Hello listeners, and welcome back once again to Underwooden Finch Season four. As
always, I'm going to switch over to my introduction to the original Patreon recording
of this episode at a moment, and then after the Underwooden Finch story bit,
we can have a bit of chat on the other side. So now
I will fade out of twenty twenty three and re emerge in t twenty seventeen.
This episode picks up from episode seven in season four, where David escaped
from the clutches of the sect and made a telephone call using one of the
phones that he'd pinched off on one of his guards, Chap called Kendall,
and he contacted the journalist Ronnie Bishop, who was the guy who broke the
London Vampire story originally in the London Evening Courier, and arranged a meeting with
him in a pub called the Kingsway Tavern. Now, before we get into
this, you may recall from way back, though maybe you don't, that
Ronnie's source for that new story was in fact a hacked telephone message from Claire
Redman's phone, where her partner Larry Beck told her some basic details of the
London Vampire story in which he mentioned the fact they were calling him the vampire
and various things like that. But that's actually all Ronnie's got. He hasn't
got a great deal and he certainly doesn't have a real source in Scotland.
Yard. As for David, his source, inverted commas, is what Elizabeth
Daventry told him when he was, as I say, in the clutches of
the sect. Nice clutches supposedly, but nevertheless clutches as far as David Buskins
said. And so that's pretty much it. So let's just jump into the
story now and enjoy Episode thirteen Underwood and Flinch season four Underground, written and
performed for podcast by Mike Bennett. This podcast is intended for an adult audience.
Episode thirteen, David entered the King's Way tavern and inhaled the warm and
much missed aroma of an English pub. He'd avoided going into pubs for years
for precisely this reason. The smells, the sounds, the atmosphere were all
triggers to his desire to drink. Like one of Pavlov's dogs, His mind,
if not his mouth, began to salivate in anticipation of a drink stop
he told himself, just stop and get a hold of yourself. He closed
his eyes, shutting out at least the visual temptations of the bar with its
glowing optics and pumps and people all having a laugh with drinks in their hands.
You're not here to get pissed. You don't do that anymore. You're
clean and sober, or at least you usually are. Sure you've been off
the wagon lately, but circumstances have been somewhat fucking overwhelming at times. But
right now they're not. Right now, you need to keep a clear head
because that vampire that killed Lisa could come for you at any moment, and
if you're three sheets to the wind, you'll be dead or worse before you
know what's it you He opened his eyes. No, he wasn't here to
drink. He was here because he had work to do. He had to
find out what this journalist, Ronnie Bishop and knew and hopefully get a few
steps closer to finding out who had killed Lisa and the other victims of the
so called London vampire. As arranged with Ronie on the phone, he had
a copy of that evening's edition of The London Evening courier under his arm.
He dread it on a train, searching for news of the London vampire,
but there was none, save for some biographical details of the dead priest and
reassurances from Scotland Yard that everything was being done to apprehend the killer as swiftly
as possible. David noticed with interest that Ronnie Bishop was not the author of
the peace. But then, as the guy at the courier had told him
on the phone, Ronnie wasn't a staff reporter, so as a freelancer,
David reasoned Bishop would be hungry for anything that he had to offer him.
He smiled at the thought of just sitting down and confessing everything that had happened
since he first got the letter summoning himTo Spain. Now that would be a
story. He went to the bar. It was crowded, suits and ties
abounded. No one looked poor, but then they were in the city of
London. One was poor. A woman moved out of the line of bodies
at the bar carrying two drinks, and David stepped into the vacated space.
He caught the eye of the barman and ordered the pint of guinness and packet
of cheese and onion crisps that Ronnie Bishop had asked for, and a coke
for himself. Once he'd paid, he turned around to face the pub,
displaying his purchases and standing so the Evening Courier under his arm was clearly visible.
Then Candell's phone rang. He put the drinks down on the bar and
took out the phone. Ronnie's number was displayed. He answered it, Ronnie,
Where are you? You were left? Ronnie replied, far corner by
the window. David turned and saw a man holding up a hand to him
from where he sat alone at a table. I see you. He hung
up and went over, Hi, Ronnie, right, it's right, and
you must be David. That pint for me, is it? Yeah?
David put the pint of guinness down on the table beside the one Ronnie was
halfway through drinking Andy's. He held up the crisps and Ronnie reached for them.
Tell very much. On noticing the coke in David's hand, he said,
you want a soft desire? I thought you were looking forward to a
point. Yeah I was, But then I remember I'm on the wagon,
Ronnie, he chuckled. Yeah, it's easy to forget in it. Sit
down, thanks, David pulled out a seat opposite him, and thanks for
seeing me. I appreciate it, no problem, anything for a fan.
Ronnie's eyebrows bobbed over his black rim and the glasses as he raised his drink.
So you say you're working with the police, Yeah, kind of,
kind of, which mean kind of. Well, actually I'm not, at
least not to their knowledge. I have a contact in the police who's advising
me. Oh yeah, Well your contact's advice doesn't quite harmonize with what my
contacts been selling me. So one of us must be having their chain yanked.
And I know for a fact it ain't me, sure, no doubt.
But my information comes from a very reliable and high ranking officer, said
David, recalling what Elizabeth had told him about the sex man in Scotland Yard.
But I've been thinking about this lack of harmony you mentioned as well,
and I think it's because our sources just to have different pieces of the puzzle,
he smiled. And I'm open that between us, you and me can
put those pieces together and see if we can't get a clearer picture. Ronnie's
eyes narrowed. Interesting, So who's this saucy yours? Then? Obviously I
can't say, but I will say that, though they aren't working on the
coast personally, their rank does give them access to certain case details. Go
on, David shook his head. No. First, I want to ask
you some questions. Ronnie opened the packet of crisps and put one in his
Do you now well information don't come cheap, mate? David nodded, Yeah,
well that shouldn't be a problem, providing you've got more than you've already
written in the Courier. The sight of Ronnie's crisps gave David a twinge of
hunger. The Vodga he'd drunk earlier was probably giving him a touch of the
munshies. Can I have a crisp? Ronnie stopped chewing. He thought for
a moment, then extended the packet across the table. David took a crisp.
Thanks, Who are you? Asked Ronnie suspiciously. I told you you
can call me David. Yeah, but what's your game? Who'd you work
for? I don't work for anyone here, right. Coppers don't hand over
information to just anyone, mate, and most of them certainly don't do it
for the benefit of society. They give it the journalists, and they do
it for cash. Now you seem to be good for the latter, which
makes me think you're also the former. Who is it the Sun News of
the World. No, Ronnie, I'm just a member of the public who,
for reasons of my own, wants to find a London vampire. Oh
is that vampire singular? I thought you said there were two killers? That's
right, So which one are you after? Both of them? Why?
What's in it for you? Nothing? I'm just a concerned citizen, Barlocks.
No one goes out in serial killers because they're a concerned citizen, not
unless they're Charles Bronson. David frowned. Death Wish, said, Ronnie,
you know the film? David shook his head. No, I missed that
one. Ronnie rolled his eyes, a gesture triggered by his generally held dismay
at the younger generation's lack of interest in his generation's common knowledge. You do
know who Charles Bronson is, don't you? Yeah, he's an actor right
well. In Death Wish, Bronson plays an ordinary bloke who becomes a vigilante
shooting muggers and the around New York in the seventies. Proper film You know
nonely a free d crap? I see, so is that you? Then?
Is it fancy yourself as a vigilante? David nodded to the crisp packet?
Can I have another one? Ronnie frowned, but proffered the pack again,
because I'll tell you what. If you're going to go after least pair
of killers, then you'd better be Charles Bronson. You've got a gun,
have you look? Said David, munching on his Crisp. I thought I
was asking you the questions. Not yet, you're not. I need to
know who I'm talking to. David scratched his chin. He knew he had
to give Ronnie something if he ever hoped to get anything in return. The
question was what a fragment? But no details, just enough information to allay
Ronnie's douns. Okay, I'll tell you the truth, but this is confidential.
You understand it's not for publication. Yeah, sure, you're not recording
this, sire, of course I'm not. Ronnie his head back and shook
the last crumbs from his CRISP packet into his mouth. What kind of blow
do you take me for? Nothing? Person? Or? Ronnie? Just
that your profession isn't always known for its ethics, now being wrong with my
ethics, mate, I'm as straight as they come. David doubted that,
but he thought it best to keep it to himself. Okay, Well,
I think this killer, this slund and vampire one or maybe both of them
together, murdered a friend of mine, and now I'm worried that I may
be next. Ronnie paused and raising his glass to his lips. Really,
who was this friend of yours? Then that's not important, isn't it.
I reckon your friend might disagree with that. Come on, who is it?
David had been referring to Lisa's murder, but now he saw the need
to veer off into half truths and lies. It was a long time ago.
The police never caught the person who did it. But from what I've
learned from my contact on the force, the killer in the church might well
be the same person who killed my friend. Did the story make the papers?
Look, Ronnie, I'm not saying any more about that, all right.
I only told you this much so as you'd know why I'm interested,
and I'm not working for the bloody news of the world. Now it's your
turn to answer some of my questions. Okay, Ronnie scowled into his beer,
then took a drink. You are right. Go on, in your
story in the Courier, you said the victims had had their throats cut.
Did your contact tell you that? Not exactly? I took a bit of
license there. Superintendent Carrolridge said in his statement that both of them got stabbed.
My contact told me that they're calling the killer the vampire. So I
figured if he was using a knife and they're calling him the vampire, chances
are extremely high he's been cutting their throats. Wait, you mean you made
it up. No, I extrapolated it from the known facts, and since
now one, when the police has come out to contradict anything I wrote,
it looks as if I was on the money done it. Ronnie smiled.
You don't survive in this business as long as I have unless you got a
pretty good instinct for what's really going on beyond police statements. So to name
the vampire that wasn't your invention. They were already calling him that. Yeah,
but you don't know whether or not they think it's a real vampire.
Ronnie frowned. He what You're not serious, David smiled, Of course,
not I was just checking, you know, checking. Yeah, Look,
forget about it. Let's just go back to my question, shall we in
a minute. See, I don't understand why you'd even ask a question like
that. Look, I'm only doing what you're doing, extrapolating, trying to
put it all together somehow. I mean, there are people up there who
think they're vampires, aren't now, people who get off on drinking blood.
It's a fetish, in't it, is it? Yeah? Sure of course
it is. Says that what happens to your friend Nan is it killed by
some vampire fetishists. Look, this isn't about my friend, Ronnie. It's
about the London victims. But you've said them or your friend's killer was similar
to the killer at the church, that it might be the same person.
Yeah, so let's talk about that, shall we. What do you know
about the murder at the church? Fac or compared to you? It seems
Ronnie took a drink. Seriously, what do you know? Not a lot,
said Ronnie, wiping white foam from his lip. I know. The
detective at the scene was DCI Claire Redmond. She and her ds blackfellow called
Larry Beck were at the scene when Coleridge turned up and relieved him of it.
Interestingly, Redmond and Beck were the detectives on duty that morning in an
area that covered both murders, and Coleridge took him off for both of them.
And that's not normal. Why did he do that? You'd have to
ask him, wouldn't you? So it was investigating them now, I'm not
sure. My source told me Falconbridge at it, but I've been down there
and it's shut, possibly for good, going by the look of it,
Falconbridge Police Station. Maybe you should give your source a cool could be the
situation's changed. I don't call him, he calls me. You know what
I mean? Yeah, David nodded, as if such things were a commonplace
in his life. Yeah, I know what you mean. Yeah. We
all have their ways and means, don't we, Dave. But listen,
I still want to know why you asked me if the police thought it was
a real vampire. That's what you said, A real vampire, not some
fetish nut job. But that is what I meant, Ronnie, a fetish
nut job. David smiled. Why don't tell me you believe in real vampires.
I never ruled nothing at me, said Ronnie, I've been a reporter
in this city for nearly forty years. I've seen more weird shit than you've
had hot dinner's mate, including vampires. Ronnie took a long drink, his
eyes scrutinizing David over the rim of his glass. He said his drink down
and wiped his mouth with a finger. Seen not personally, No, but
I've heard things, stories, rumors like what Nothing particularly relevant to your little
inquiry, my friend. Okay, said David, but still I'd be interested
to hear them. Ronnie sat back in his seat and David could feel his
eyes weighing him up, getting the measure of him. Then, as if
coming to a decision, Ronnie nodded slowly. All right. So one I
remember, and remember well was when I was just starting out in this game,
back in nineteen seventy one, I was a cub reporter on a local
rag called the Clark and Well and Finsbury Leader. You ever read it?
No, I'm not from round here. There's nothing fancy, just a weekly
paper with a small local distribution. Went to the wall about fifteen years ago.
But I've got a lot of happy memories, you know, greatlier times
back then anyway, I was just a youngster fresh out of school. I
was an errand boy most of the time. But every now and then I'd
get sent out to cover a local human interest story. You know, local
woman wins five pounds in knitting competition, that kind of thing. Anyway,
one day I've got sent out to interview an old deer who just got the
proverbial telegram from the Queen, congratulating on a one hundredth birthday. I expected
i'd hear the usual centenaria and stuff about rationing dead husbands and are everything round
here used to be field? But it turned out to be a bit more
interesting than that. She was the owner of an occult bookshop. Big place
too, covered two floors. She lived in the flat on the top.
Law spinster lived there all her life. Florence Cole was her name, flow
to her friends. Still had all her marbles, bright as a button.
She was so. I asked her about the shop, whether it had always
been an occult bookshop, and she said no. When she was a girl,
back in Victorian times, it had been a coffee shop, her dad's
place, and it was at that time that her fascination of the occult began.
And all because of a story or her old man told her to try
and frighten her off. Varney the Vampire. Off What Varney the Vampire.
It's an old vampire book written back before Dracula, one of them, Penny
dreadfuls, you know. David shook his head. No, sorry, Ronnie
rolled his eyes, but continued, Well, it was a book anyway,
and her old man didn't think it was a kind of thing a young lady
ought to be reading, so he tried to scare her off it by telling
her what he claimed was a true story about vampires that happened right there in
Clark Gunwell back in the eighteen sixties, eighteen sixty three to be exact.
I'll never forget the details because I included it as part of a piece I
did on Flow to add a bit of spice to the thing that was my
first really successful article. Actually, everyone at the Leader read it and said
I had real talent, and how right they were a he chuckled, then
went on anyway. According to flows Dad, back in eighteen sixty three,
there was a group of moral crusaders that used to meet once a week in
the room above the coffee shop. They called themselves the Malleus Society, and
they were dedicated to ridding Landon of witchcraft and Satanism and all that kind of
thing. Flows old man used to take him up their coffee, and then
after he'd left the room, he listened at the door to their meetings,
which I imagine must have been quite entertaining in an age before TV and radio.
Anyway, one night, Flows Dad hears them talking about how they think
they're onto a real live vampire, what's living in London. Apparently he was
the head of a Satanic circle called the Sect, and they called him the
Lord. So Ronnie stopped. He stared at David, his face suddenly concerned.
Yeah you all right? David was trying hard not to react to how
the hares had just risen all over his body. Uh yeah, yeah,
just a bit startled. It's all, you know, real live vampires.
You say, they called him the Lord? Yes, right, Lord?
What No, now, that was all they called him, just the Lord,
right? David raised his eyebrows. Fancies had anyway go on? Yeah,
So, as I was saying this Mallius crowd they decided to hunt him
down, the Lord, and do whatever they needed to do, you know,
bang a steak through his art whatever. But it didn't go quite according
to plan. One of them was shot trying to gather intel on him,
supposedly called burglaring the country estate of one of the Sex's members. Of course,
there was no investigation. The police took the word of the aristocrat and
his servants and that was the end of that. But then the Malius got
another lead on this Lord character. It was shortly after the London Underground opened,
and he'd been spotted a couple of times at Baker Street station. Two
Mallius blokes were sent along to stake it out. No pun intended, and
they were never seen again. Ronnie said the last words with an air of
theatrical mystery. They died, No one knows, But the following week was
their last time. The Mallius ever met at flows Dead's coffee shop or anywhere
else. And what happened all of em bar one committed suicide? What together?
No, but all on the same night, in different parts of town
and in different ways. Did they plan it together? Maybe at their last
meeting, not according to Flow's dad, But apparently at that last meeting they
were scared. They believed the Lord had murdered their mates in the underground.
The Metropolitan Railway denied it. They said there had been an incident where a
train had broken down, but all passengers were accounted for, and there was
certainly no sign of any dead bodies in the tunnels, and none of the
passengers saw anything unusual. What like a big vampire bat. Yeah, like
a big vampire bat, Ronnie smiled. Nah, not at a flow mentioned,
and I reckon she would of if they had seen something like that.
So, as I say, Amalis were all scared. They thought they'd all
be getting a visit from the Lord themselves, and maybe if they really believed
he was a vampire, maybe they just couldn't stand the fear. They're constantly
looking over their shoulders for death. So they all topped themselves. Yeah,
or maybe the Lord actually existed and he topped them one by one, Yeah,
said David. But not all of them, you said, all of
them by one? Ronnie nodded. That's right. Their leader, Edward Christie,
apparently he was away on business the night they had that last meeting,
and as soon as he found out what had happened to his mates, he
was off like a whippet. Him and his family packed up lock stock and
barrel and moved to the US. Did he make it? Flow said he
did? Yeah, you didn't check. How was I going to do that?
He was nineteen seventy one. There was none of a Google back then,
mate. Sure I could have mounted some big investigation, but not on
the leader's time, and and not on my neither. No. I kept
it small, A little part of a short biography of an old deer who'd
reached her undredth birthday, not some big bleeding Watergate story. But you never
forgot it, No, and neither would you have if you'd heard Old Flow
telling it. She had no doubt that it was completely true, and it
changed her for ever. So as I say her old man's planned to turn
her off, the occult had the opposite effect, And when he died she
turned a coffee shop into the occult bookstore. Is it still there, Nah,
it's a betting shop. Shame. It's a shame she's not still around
too. I'd like to have spoken to her about it. Why you think
the Lord could be the London Vampire? I don't know. I suppose he
could be. They lived for one hundreds of years, apparently, if such
things really existed. Ronnie gave a wry smile. Yeah, right, So
the lord did the one in the skip, and what Varney the vampire did
the one in the church? That is, assuming you're right and there are
two of them. He sat back, seemingly satisfied with himself, but then
he cocked a raised finger at David from the armrest of his chair. But
I'll tell you something that is interesting and what may be relevant to this London
vampire case of airs. What's that, flows, Dad said? Every member
of the Mallius Society used to wear a silver ring on the third finger of
their right hand, were four to show they were members, presumably, Ronnie
shrugged. These rings were custom made and each one had a little raised cross
set in the middle of a circle. Okay, David nodded thoughtfully, But
why is this relevant to those murders now? It's not something you see every
day, is it? I suppose not. When was the last time you
saw a man with a silver ring on a third finger of his right hand?
I don't hope, can't say I've ever been looking out for one,
all right, Probably this way, When was the last time you saw two
men together, each of them with a silver ring on the third finger of
his right hand, I'd say probably never. Yeah, exactly, But again
you likely wouldn't notice it, would you. But me, I've got that
story of flows up in my head, and being a reporter a trained observer,
if I see something like that, I notice it. Are you saying
you have? Ronnie nodded, I have. When one nine in nineteen eighty
two, I've got the ship kicked out of me by two detectives down by
the Regent's Canal, Both of them, on the third finger of their right
hands were wearing silver rings. Okay, but again, why is this relevance
of the London Vampire? Because I knew the name of one of them.
I've been into his station just a few days before it to have a word
with him concerning a miss in person story I was working on. Who was
he? Ronnie leaned in across the table and said, in a confidential tone,
his name was Charles Coleridge, who's now Detective Chief Superintendent Coleridge, the
man who's leading the investigation into the London Vampire, and so listeners from disturbing
the Devil to underground. Another thread from the Underwood and Flinch universe ties into
our story. Join me for episode of fourteen when that story continues. The
music you're listening to, as you know, is a'mad Armor by Farried Fajard
courtesy of Taranna Records and our good friend Fawa's Al Maloud. If you want
to buy the album, maybe on vinyl, there's a thought it is available
and is called an Bruiser Volume four, or of course you could just stream
it from Spotify or any of the usual music streaming services. And so there
we are listeners. That was Underwooden Finch season four, episode thirteen, and
I hope you enjoyed it. David's encounter with Ronnie Bishop will continue in our
next episode, so do be sure to join me for that one. Okay,
So what's new in my world? Well, as always, not a
lot. I'm writing the next book in the Underwooden Finch saga, which in
podcast terms will be season eight, and in fact that is the working title
of the novel at the moment, just season eight. I'm not going to
give it a proper title yet, not until it's completely finished, because the
last time I named an Underwooden Flinch book when it was still in the process
of being written and podcast, I came up with a better title halfway through
the podcast, and so I had to change it, which was, as
you can imagine, very frustrating. The book in question is the story that
comes after Underwooden Flinch Underground at Patreon. So when you listen to the last
episode of Underwood Lynch Underground episode sixty, you then go straight into what was
originally called Underwooden Flinch Legion. But then what happened is about halfway through,
as I say, I realized that the book should actually be called something else.
It should be called The Devil of Claverton. You know, I kind
of realized the title in the process of writing the book, but because I
was podcasting the book as I was writing it, you can see the complication.
Oh no, I thought, I can't go back through all of these
previous episodes changing every single reference in the recordings from Legion to the Devil of
Claverton. It'll take forever, and so I didn't. So when you get
to Patreon. Now, if you if you go to Patreon, you'll see
the episodes are listed as Underwood and Finch The Devil of Claverton. But when
you listen to them on the audio, you will hear me announced the title
as Underwood and Flinch Legion, and then about halfway through the series, you
will understand why if you if you listen to the you know these bumpers that
I do, because that is when I explain that I'm going to change the
title and why. So, yeah, this is just one of the many
perils of podcasting a novel while you're in the pre of writing it. And
incidentally, that's how the book you're listening to at the moment, this one
Underwooden Flinch Underground, that this was written in the same way, write a
chapter and then podcast it one episode of months for five years at Patreon,
and only now am I in the process of editing the whole thing for an
eventual print and audiobook release. So you may wonder, then, is this
podcast that you're listening to now is this the edited version of Underground or is
it the original? It's the original version, you're what you're listening to now
is the original recording as released at Patreon. But the changes I'm making to
the text at the moment will be in the book and audiobook versions of Underground
when it is released, So you may ask, will I then make changes
to the podcast episodes to reflect the new book and audiobook version. Yes,
I will. So what you're hearing now is the original, but eventually I
will change these podcasts to match the ultimate book and audiobook recordings. Are you
with me good? Yes? You seem like a bright person. I'm sure
you can keep up. When will this be, you may wonder, I
don't know. I really don't know. One day, hopefully before Underwoodenfinch Season
five starts next year. I see. The thing is. The problem is
I have so much to do at the moment, and I'm kind of panicking
a bit because if this Underwooden Finch television series happens, then I've got no
idea how that's going to affect me and my workload. I certainly imagine that
my download numbers are going to go up, possibly considerably, I don't know,
as will sales of ebooks and audiobooks. So then there's going to be
a pressure to get more audio books and books and what have you out as
soon as possible. While that, you know, any kind of new passing
fad interest in Underwooden Finch is there, Like say, the TV show comes
out in I don't know, twenty twenty four late twenty twenty four if it
comes out then, but I've still not got the audio books out, and
I eventually get the audiobook any book versions out in twenty twenty five, everyone's
going to have lost interest and so I missed the boat, so I've got
to get those out as soon as possible. But at the same time,
I also need to get the next book written season eight because well for the
same reason basically, so all these things need to be done. All these
things need to be done. They need to be done now. In fact,
they need to be done yesterday, my goodness. But then again,
let's not forget that there is still a chance that the Underwooden Finch TV series
won't actually happen. You know, just because it's got big stars attached to
it and a top show runner in place to write and head up the show,
that doesn't mean that streamers or networks will necessarily want to take it on.
You know, There's a there's a lot of good shows out there,
and there's there's only so much time to run shows and money to make shows.
So I don't know, We'll just have to wait and see things are
moving. I hasten to add though, and I've got a pretty good idea
what's happening, but I can't say for absolutely sure, and I certainly don't
want to speculate on this podcast. But as soon as I do know,
as soon as I'm told what's going on, and I'm told that I'm allowed
to disclose to you what is going on, then rest assured, ladies and
gentlemen, I will. And that's about it. Then, from me for
this week. That's about all I've got for you, so I I guess
I should take my leave of you once again. Thank you as always for
listening, ladies and gentlemen, but from me for now, until the moon
rises again, over Underwood and Flinch, take care and farewell