Charlie and the Angel
~~by Bobbie Cabot~~

Jill Munroe, formerly Police Officer Charlie Townsend, had more or less adjusted to being changed by that magical mixed tape. But after finding out some very important facts about her change, had quit the force and started working at her new job as a private detective. She, along with her best friends, Sabrina and Kelly, were excited to start working on their first assignment…

-----

Jill pulled out of her parking space in her new condo building on Barrow Street, and started her drive to the new office on East 69th.

She didn’t need Waze anymore since she had memorized the route by now – down Barrow, left on Washington, right on Houston, down West and through the Battery Park Underpass and onto FDR. She eventually crossed FDR and onto East 61st, right on 1st, left on East 67th, right on Park Avenue and then eventually to East 69th.

As an LA native, she was used to driving long distances, but this route was ridiculously complicated for a five-mile drive, and she was only able to memorize it because she had been navigating the same route for a week now.

She’d started thinking that maybe her best friend, Sabrina, did the right thing by picking the less fancy apartment the company found, but which was just a ten-minute walk to the office. But no – she had to pick the fancy one just because Bosley said it was the best he found.

As for Kelly, she found her own place herself, which was a loft on West 66th near Tucker Square. She liked it for the Farmers’ Market on Saturdays, and the twenty-minute one-mile walk through Central Park to the office. Which was just as well since she had no parking and had to park her classic beige ’76 Mustang in a rented spot in a parking structure near the office.

Jill was about to go into the parking structure, too, but luckily, there was an empty spot right in front of the building.

She pulled in, just in time to see Kelly.

“Hey, Kelly!” she called. She stepped out of her mint-condition ’76 white Mustang Cobra II with the blue racing stripes, locked it and went to Kelly for a hug.

“Good morning, Jill,” Kelly said, putting an arm over her shoulders. “How was your drive?”

“Not as fun as you might think,” Jill said. They went to the front door.

“Good morning, Charlie!” they said to the friendly old doorman. This greeting was rapidly becoming a tradition, now.

“Good morning, Miss Garrett, Miss Munroe.”

“How are you this bright Monday morning, Charlie?” Jill said.

“Doin’ really great!”

“I take it Sabrina’s here already?”

“Miss Duncan’s been here since seven-thirty, Miss Munroe.”

“Damn!” She turned to the brunette. “You know, Kelly,” Jill said, “I think Bri likes doing this to us. One of these days, I’ll beat her to the office.”

Kelly giggled. “Let’s go, girlfriend. Hopefully, Bosley will have an assignment for us today.”

They went to the suite for the Charles Townsend Detective Agency’s New York office and, as usual, Sabrina was there.

“Hey!” Sabrina said and gave them a Cheshire cat smile.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jill said and gave her a hug. “You beat us to the office again.”

“Sabrina?” Kelly asked, “do we have a case today?”

“As it happens,” Tom Bosley said, “you do.” The ex-police sergeant came into the office in his now-normal suit and tie. “Good morning, girls. Please take a seat so I can start the briefing.”

The girls found seats in the well-appointed office.

“Bosley,” Jill said, “before you do: a question - why is the company called the ‘Charles Townsend Detective Agency?’ Who’s Charles Townsend?”

“Well, Jill, obviously, Charles Townsend Sr. is our employer.”

“But that was my name when I was… who exactly is… wait – you said ‘senior?’… ”

“Please, Jill,” Bosley said, “we need to start our briefing. Let’s leave that for later, okay?”

“’Kay…”

With that, Bosley dimmed the lights, turned on an LCD projector, and started telling them about their first case. And, apparently, their first case was going to be a ghost hunt…

-----

Sabrina stepped out of a limousine, dressed in a conservative but extremely expensive outfit. She exuded the image of a young, very well-to-do professional. Extremely well-to-do, actually – filthy rich, in fact. Kelly then followed, this time dressed in a very chic “secretary outfit” – a very clean-cut, form-fitting skirt and suit - and walked a few paces behind her. Their disguises were perfect.

A couple of actors playing the part of security guards in suits also stood by a few discreet yards away, with radios and prop guns in belt holsters to hide the orange muzzle (besides hiding the orange muzzle, Jill had suggested the belt holsters because, even though they didn’t look 100% authentic, the guns would be visible, and that would have a bigger impact).

The owner of the company came out to greet her.

“Good evening, Miss Duncan. I’m Aaron Bowen, owner of the Bowen House.”

“Good evening, Mr. Bowen. Thank you for meeting with me so late in the evening. Call me Sabrina. This is my personal assistant, Miss Garrett.” She gestured to Kelly. “May I call you Aaron?”

“Of course. Thank you for your interest in donating to Bowen House. I don’t mind telling you, we badly need it ever since the trouble a couple of months ago. If you will follow me…”

“I hope you don’t mind, Aaron, I’d like to have a tour of Bowen House.”

He nervously looked at his watch. “Ahh, perhaps it would be better to get a tour of the house tomorrow morning? It’s pretty late…”

“I prefer to do it now, please? I have heard about the, ummm, ‘trouble’ you have been having.”

“You have?” He looked worried.

“Yes, and I’d like to get a look at this “new” ghost of yours that have been making trouble. Frankly speaking, I doubt the existence of ghosts, especially one that causes so much trouble. So, before committing to donating a couple of million, I insist on seeing this troublemaker ghost for myself.”

“But…”

“It comes out at around ten, right?”

“Well…”

“Great! That means we’re early.”

Aaron looked sad. “Well, if you insist.”

“If you don’t mind waiting for a few minutes, we are short one person. And, ah! Here she is!”

A beat-up Toyota pulled up, and a disheveled blonde got out. She went to the back, got out a bunch of equipment and walked up to them. It was Jill, in full disguise, but despite the unkempt look, her beauty shone through.

“Ahh! Miss Munroe,” Sabrina said in practiced, high-class snootiness. “Aaron, let me introduce you to Dr. Jill Munroe – parapsychologist and ghost hunter extraordinaire.”

“Pleased to make yo’ acquaintance,” Jill said in a very pleasing southern accent, and shook Aaron’s hand.

“You’re a ghost hunter?” Aaron asked.

“Ah prefeh the term ‘para-psychologist,’ mahself.”

“I have hired the services of Miss Munroe so that we can get to the bottom of this haunting,” Sabrina said.

“Well,” Aaron sighed, “if you insist…”

-----

“So, anyway,” Aaron said as he led Sabrina, Kelly and Jill into the inside of the building to begin his tour.

“As you know,” he said, while they walked, “the Bowen House Foundation supports pro-LGBT and pro-minority organizing and advocacy. We mostly provide legal defense and representation for disadvantaged or unrepresented sections of our community, including the LGBT community.

“Donations from private citizens provide funds, but what mostly funds the foundation is tourist trade from the Bowen Mystery House. The house is one of the most famous mansions in the state of New York, and was once the residence of my great-great-grandmother, Jillian Mae Bowen, a famous Civil War-era figure, who was later found to actually be a man. This fact has become the basis for the popularity of the house, and, of course, the ghosts.

“The house is a Queen Anne-style Victorian mansion from the late 1800s, renowned for its size and its architectural curiosities and, ever since its construction, it has been reputed to be haunted by ghosts from the Civil War. Many visitors say they’ve seen the ghosts, but I and my staff haven’t seen any, except for the one that started appearing two months ago.”

“Ah see,” Jill said as she played the role of ghostbuster, waving around little blinking props and buzzing devices. “Why do you think this ghost came out now?”

“We don’t really know.”

“Did anything happen recently?”

“Well, there was this company. We’ve always been at the edge, financially speaking, and then there was this guy from Tate Holdings, a large land and real estate developer based out of Manhattan, who offered to buy the entire property. They’re planning to build a large hotel and this is the only property in the area large enough.”

“Ahnd?”

“And… a week after we turned down his offer, that’s when the ghost started making trouble.”

“That’s a big coincidence…” Sabrina said.

“Can you tell us what this ghost has been doing since it showed up?” Jill asked.

“Basically, it just scares visitors by making sounds or appearing out of nowhere. It never did hurt any of our visitors when it first showed up, but in the past weeks, eight visitors were hurt. Some of them claimed they were pushed down the stairs and falling objects hurt several others. Last week, though, someone almost died.”

“What!”

“Yeah… It seemed that our ghost tried to push someone from the balcony. It was a miracle that man didn’t die.”

“That doesn’t sound like a ghost,” Jill said.

“Is that your expert opinion as a ghostbuster? Sorry, Miss Munroe. I’m not exactly in the best of moods.”

“It’s all right. What does this ghost look like?”

“Those that see it say that it’s a pale blonde wearing a turn-of-the-century evening gown with short sleeves, short gloves and a very wide skirt with hoops and petticoats. If the accounts are to be believed, the ghost sounds like how Jillian Mae is supposed to look like. The ghost also wears a large necklace of pearls, just like Jillian Mae.”

“Part of the controversy, Ah suppose.”

“Yes.”

“So, is this where the ghost comes out?” Jill gestured to the surrounding area.

“Around this hallway, yes.” He pointed to a door in a secluded end of the hall. “It… she… usually comes out from that part of the hall, and then walks across to the other side. She’s usually glimpsed from the window gliding from one side to the other.” He pointed to the large window. “That window, in fact.”

Jill tried the door.

“It’s locked,” she said.

“That’s strange,” Aaron said as he unlocked it. “This is usually left unlocked.”

Jill opened the door and noted something on the floor. She also noted the small access door.

“What is that?” she asked.

“That’s the fire escape door. There’s a small fire escape ladder outside that leads to the back lawn.”

“Ah see.” She went to the window and peeked outside. “Sabrina?”

“Yes, Jill?”

“Ah need you and Kelly to go to the back lawn. Wait for mah signal, okay?”

Sabrina nodded and they walked downstairs.

“What was that about?” Aaron said.

“Oh, nuthin,’” Jill said. “By any chance, do you have any rope?”

-----

Jill and Aaron had retreated downstairs, had coffee in the sitting room just below the hall, and chatted. Jill was hard put to invent enough details of her fictitious ghost hunter job, but talking to Aaron was fun.

After a few minutes, they started to hear a moan.

“Oh, my God!” Aaron whispered, and stood up. “It’s true! There’s a ghost!”

Jill pulled him down.

“Jus’ stay calm, Aaron,” she said, pulling him back down on his seat. “We jus’ need to wait.”

Jill sipped her coffee while Aaron fidgeted.

“Wooooo….” they heard the ghost moan.

Aaron was about ready to jump out of his skin, but Jill calmed him down and held his hand.

“It’ll be over in jus’ a sec.”

“Wooooo…” the ghost moaned even louder. Jill giggled.

“Wooooo…” the ghost seemed to moan at the top of its lungs (that sounded weird but that was how it sounded).

“Wooooo… oh!”

After that exclamation, they heard the loud sound of someone tripping, and then a scream.

Behind them, someone in a period costume fell.

Calmly, Jill raised her walkie-talkie.

“Okay, Sabrina,” she said into the radio, “you can go to their car, now. Aaron? Can you call the police, and ask them to send an ambulance, too?”

Jill calmly finished her coffee, stood up and walked to where the person fell. She brought out her little revolver and pointed it at the moaning man in the 1800s evening dress and blonde wig.

“My God,” Aaron said in recognition, “that’s the guy from Tate Holdings!”

“Ah know,” Jill said, pulled back her gun’s hammer, and pointed it at him. “Sorry, dude,” she said in her normal voice and accent. “But you’re busted.” She turned to Aaron. “I wonder if this counts as ghostbusting,” she giggled.

-----

Later, Jill, Sabrina and Kelly came clean, and explained to Aaron who they were, and that they were investigating this supposed haunting. They were glad they were able to unmask the “ghost.”

Apparently, the man was doing all he could to force the owners of the Bowen House to sell, so his company could start construction on their hotel. Tate Holdings had disavowed the actions of their employee, and said they would start their own prosecution of the man.

Aaron nodded. “But I don’t understand how you pieced it together, Jill.”

“Well, the fact that the ghost only came out after you turned down the offer was a big clue, but what clinched it was what I saw in the little storage room, and out back.”

“What did you see?”

“I saw a car with a driver parked outside, conveniently hidden under a tree, and a skateboard in the storage room.”

“A skateboard!”

“Yep! It’s what he used to smoothly ‘drift’ from one side of the hall to the other, and make people think it’s a ghost.”

“And…”

“And, he got tripped up by the rope we stretched across the hallway.” And everyone laughed.

-----

Jill turned over the two million dollar check that was promised, but it was actually in the name of the Charles Townsend Detective Agency. Aaron gratefully accepted the check. Sabrina said that their boss was very interested in helping the Bowen House Foundation in its work and, besides, this was tax deductible. Aaron laughed.

Aaron asked who had hired them, and Sabrina explained that it was someone from the Bowen House Foundation’s board, but he asked his identity to be kept confidential.

As Aaron walked them to their cars, he pulled Jill back a little.

“Jill,” he said, “I cannot say how much I appreciate what you girls have done.”

Jill shrugged. “It was nothing, Aaron. It’s our job.”

“But also, I’m curious - your name…”

“My name?”

“Did you know that Munroe is actually a Scottish name?”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yes. Jillian Mae’s family was from Scotland. And the reason I know is because her full female name, before she got married, was ‘Jillian Mae Munroe.’ I guess her husband didn’t know she was really a man.”

“Huh?”

“I’m saying my great-great-grandmother was also named Jill Munroe.”

“Jill!” Sabrina called from the limo. “Look!” She pointed back to Bowen House.

In the moonlight, they could see the silhouette of a woman in a period dress standing on the roof.

In moments, she spread a pair of wings and flew away.

“What was that!?” Jill exclaimed. “A ghost?”

“It was an angel,” Aaron said, “an angel named Jill.”

---end---

Note - The pictures were collages made from publicly accessible pictures of the Charlie’s Angels movies and TV shows, and other pictures. No ownerhip is claimed. No IP infringement is intended.

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