TEMPUS INVESTIGATIONS 

A Fictional TV-show

By Claus Holm

Attributions: The artwork of this book uses
photographs released under the Creative
Commons license from photographers
James Daisa (on Flickr), Naotake Murayama
(on Flickr) and a screenshot of a scene from the
trailer for the motion picture The Big Combo
(also in the public domain).

Copyright © By Claus Holm 2016
All Rights Reserved
ISBN: 978-1534876293
First Edition, Published 2016
Cover by Stefan Kiel Nielsen
Layout by Lotte Lund

Claus Holm asserts his moral right to be identified as the author of this 
book. 

“That which is alive hath known death, and that which is 

dead can never die, for in the Circle of the Spirit life is naught 

and death is naught. Yea, all things live forever, though at 

times they sleep and are forgotten.” 

― H. Rider Haggard, She

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The TV Show That Never Was

Every year, people all over the world wait for the renewal sched-

ule with a fearful kind of anticipation. In an age where TV means 

more to us than ever before, there are more and more fans who 

every year wonder if their favorite show will re-appear after the 

summer, or if it will join the hundreds of other shows that each 

year are cancelled and forgotten.

Many people, frustrated with losing their favorite show, take 

to imagining what would have happened if the show they love 

had been kept on the air. Some of them go one step further, and 

begin writing stories, scripts or even novels about their favorite 

characters. This is generally referred to as fan fiction.

But what if your show never existed in the first place? What if 

you made up the show from the beginning?

Tempus Investigations never aired on any channel and it most 

likely never will. When you read it though – try to imagine you’re 

sitting down to watch a new show, with all the anticipation and 

excitement offered to the fall schedule every year. Imagine the 

first chapter of each story as “the teaser” – the short piece of 

show that comes before the first block of commercials. Imagine 

an intro, with a catchy theme playing somewhere between chap-

ters one and two. Imagine every chapter break ending with ex-

citing music as the screen fades to black for another quick word 

from the sponsors. Imagine credits rolling at the end, showing 

you who helped produce the episode. And imagine every episode 

with a different director, giving it a slightly different feel than 

the others.

Put your feet up. Are you sitting comfortably? Then turn on 

your mental TV and let’s begin.

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T e m p u s  I n v e s t i g a t i o n s

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T e m p u s  I n v e s t i g a t i o n s

How Like A Fallen Angel

“When angels go bad they are worse than anyone else.  

Remember Lucifer used to be an angel.” 

― Neil Gaiman, Neverwhere

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T e m p u s  I n v e s t i g a t i o n s

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Winter

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T e m p u s  I n v e s t i g a t i o n s

1.

Jim Corrigan lit a cigarette and thought about death.

The office was quiet, as it usually was at two in the morning. 

He was sitting behind his desk, legs propped up on the edge of 

it, and leaned back in his office chair. The smoke from his cig-

arette curled up towards the ceiling in a slow spiral, and when 

he exhaled, the blue puff seemed to float in the lamplight like 

fog.

He had spent a lot of nights like this, for a long time. Sleep 

often eluded him for days, and he spent the time smoking, 

sometimes drinking, and usually reading. He almost never 

watched TV – the mindless chatter of it gave him a headache. 

The  dark  corners  outside  the  lamplight  were  filled  with 

spirits. They tended to slide in and out between each other, 

making it difficult to say exactly how many there were. It was 

only when he called them by name, or spoke directly to one, 

that it would take a more permanent and identifiable shape. 

At this moment, they were no more tangible than his cigarette 

smoke. Right now, he hadn’t called any of them. They were 

simply drawn to him, to a place where they knew they could 

be seen. Most times, he tried to ignore them.

Death was on his mind a lot, and not just because of the 

spirits filling up every corner of his house and office. It seemed 

to always come in the winter, when the anniversary of his 

own death – if you could call it that – was nearing. He got de-

pressed, and tended to ignore his secretary Mercedes advice to 

eat, sleep and cut back on his smoking. He always chuckled at