Quincy enlists help of mysterious detective agency to solve local ghost story scam

Article by Beak Wilder and Heather Wilder / Photos courtesy of the World Wide Web

A mysterious detective team was enlisted by City Hall to help solve a local ghost story involving the abandoned Tide Mill on Southern Artery the other day, which led to the arrest of an evil real estate developer.

The detective agency, known on the street as "The South Shore Gang," has been in operation since late-2006, and has been said to have solved dozens of mysteries in the Quincy area since their inception.

First in the gang is Beak Wilder, a socially prominent know-how with a knack for noticing details, and an appreciation for divide-and-conquer clue searching tactics. Shouting, "Let's split up, gang" in his signature loud and abrasive voice, Beak's capacity for keen detective work is surpassed by very few.

Next is Beak's wife, Heather Wilder, an equally socially prominent detective, known for her good looks, so-so detective skills, and her ability to get into the most dangerous situation possible, as quickly as possible. Heather once got into a confrontation at Hennessy's in Faneuil Hall that made The Bride fighting O-Ren Ishii and the Crazy 88 in Kill Bill: Vol. 1 look like an Atlantic Middle School fist fight.

Third on the roster is Audrey Baloney, Boston's eighth highest regarded rooftop criminal analyst, who joined the team in an effort to solve mysteries no matter what elevation they occur at. Audrey is known for her sharp insight during investigations, especially while investigating any of the multiple forms of rooftop crime.

Fourth on the list is Shawnie Brando, a scruffy loner type who is known for performing his detective duties away from the majority of group. Shawnie reportedly took on the job as a way to impress what he referred to as the "reinvigorated Seattle grunge scene," although decided to stick with the group when it was determined that grunge rock was, in fact, a dead art.

Last on the team is Neal Diamondz, a part-time rap star who dresses like a Great Dane, allowing him to get in close and find clues while remaining unnoticed by those around him. Neal is a businessman at heart, who understands that "time is money up in this world." And it is with this thinking that compels Neal to solve each case as quickly, and as thoroughly, as possible.

It was this team that Mayor Koch called in to solve the "Mystery of the Tide Mill Ghost," which has plagued Quincy for years, causing real estate prices in the surrounding areas to drop significantly, triggering mayoral aide Joe Schlopp to think that "something may be amiss."


Barbara Cuetown, a former employee of the old Tide Mill, which is now abandoned.

Upon arriving at the mayor's office, The South Shore Gang were presented with several large meat lover's pizzas. These, as many Quincy residents know, are a favorite of the mayor's, and were mostly consumed by him, while The South Shore Gang received the necessary instructions and back-story needed to solve the case.

As legend states, the Mystery of the Tide Mill Ghost began in 2005, when local old-timer, Alf Nelson, attempted to spend the night there after what he described as "the most insane domestic dispute Quincy has ever seen."

Three hours into his stay, Alf Nelson reportedly began hearing strange noises from inside the mill, as well as seeing moving shadows in the rooms across from him.

Immediately reporting these sightings to authorities using his Nextel i870 cell phone, Mr. Nelson then collapsed from a ghost-induced heart attack, or possibly old age.

Since then, multiple accounts of ghost sightings have been reported, each of them causing residents of the area to begin moving from their homes, all of them claiming to be "all fucking set" with dealing with "any type of ghost shit."


The South Shore Gang, hard at work in their top secret headquarters on Beale Street.
Left to right: Audrey Baloney, Heather Wilder, and Beak Wilder.

After taking the case and agreeing on a reported $100-per-hour, plus expenses, The South Shore Gang wasted no time getting to the bottom of The Mystery of the Tide Mill. Right off the bat, Beak Wilder sensed that something wasn't right about these ghost stories, although Shawnie Brando remained unsurprisingly nervous.

"Let's split up, gang," shouted Beak Wilder, as he took to the second floor with both Heather and Audrey at his side.

Sticking to the lower level of the mill, Brando and Diamondz began searching for clues, each of them secretly fearing the fact that they may stumble upon a sign that these legendary Quincy ghost stories were real.

Falling into a trap door, Brando and Diamondz then found themselves traveling down an old coal chute into a secret underground mineshaft, where they were then chased through a maze of tunnels by what appeared to be an undead spectre.

Realizing they had lost track of the rest of the gang, Baloney and the Wilders took to the Mystery Beater, a 1994 Lexus ES 300, which is filled with gadgets, detective equipment, and beer cans, to call on reinforcements.


The Mystery Beater, parked awkwardly on somebody else's lawn on Putnam Street.

Calling upon their old friend, Mark "Scrappy-Dood" Doherty, Baloney and the Wilders went back into the Tide Mill to retrieve the remainder of their gang.

No matter what ghoulish noise or sight surrounded them, the gang continued on without fear, aside from Brando and Diamondz, that is, who basically just ran like little bitches and screamed.

Arriving just in time, Scrappy-Dood Doherty entered the mineshaft, eager to assist his friends in need. Also dressed like a Great Dane, except significantly smaller than Diamondz, Scrappy-Dood was able to dive head-first into the leg of the so-called spectre, biting it's knee cap with the durable and accurately sized teeth of his impressively realistic costume.


An artist's depiction of Mark "Scrappy-Dood" Doherty when in costume.

Tackling the ghost to the ground, The South Shore Gang then began unleashing a most furious beat down upon it, all while Thin Lizzy's "The Boys are Back in Town" mysteriously played through the abandoned mill's Bose speaker system.

After a few vicious kicks to the teeth, the gang realized that what they were fighting was merely a human disguised as a ghost. Taking off it's mask and exposing corrupt real estate developer Partiana Tarter, the gang immediately alerted authorities, informing them of the hoax, and demanding payment for their services.

Partiana Tarter, who has been said to work for real estate mogul Sandy Pants, former beneficiary of the Maurice the Pants Man dynasty, was then taken in for questioning, where she was charged with multiple counts of faking ghost stories, implementing real estate scams, faulty business practices, fucking around inside abandoned mills, and stealing ideas from cartoons.

"I'm just glad that The South Shore Gang was here to stop this madness," remarked Neal Diamondz, as he casually sipped on a Presidente margarita at Acapulcos in Quincy Center. "Due to our diligent efforts, we were able to determine that Partiana Tarter had been creating a back-story about ghost hauntings in the Tide Mill, in an effort to lower property values in the area, and then buy out all the businesses and homes in that area. It's our understanding that she had the intentions of building Quincy's largest high-end condominium complex in this section of Quincy, reaping the benefits between her and Sandy Pants, and leaving those who used to live in that area to fend for themselves in the seedy underbelly of Quincy Point, or possibly even West Quincy. All I can say is, it's a damn good thing I was dressed like a dog for this. If I hadn't been, we may have never been able to get as close as we did."

Partiana Tarter's mugshot, taken by Officer Nico Haylen just after her arrest.

"I could have been the richest woman in Quincy," claimed an obviously defeated Tarter, even after being explained several times that she had the right to remain silent. "I was going to build the largest real estate development this city has ever seen, and the profits would have been all mine. I was going to have a plumber install a pinot grigio faucet in every room of my brand new mansion, and I would have hired a personal McDonald's Bacon Angus Third Pounder chef to work for me, so that I could have one any time I wanted. My plan was flawless and perfectly crafted. With the money I would have gotten from this, I could have purchased all of Squantum. And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn't for those goddamn kids!"