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Authors: John Molloy

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BOOK: The Atlas Murders
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Chapter Two

 

The family got through the next
five days swimming back and forth from cruel reality to relative comfort from
the pills prescribed by the doctor. It was fear and trepidation and a nagging
sense of outrage that accompanied Henry as he went back to his heart-rending
duty to find and convict this monster.

 The station was a hive of
activity as Henry arrived at his desk. A sergeant handed him the mug shots of
four known sex offenders. He glanced at them, all familiar faces.

"I want these four
brought in for questioning
as soon as possible."

He tore open a large brown
manila envelope containing the results of the post mortem. The photograph was
plainly of Shirley. She was clearly identifiable in spite of the effects of
strangulation and bruising from a blunt instrument or fist. There was swelling
and cyanosis; her tongue was protruding between her teeth. In death she had
stared at the camera with the same degree of incredulity and horror as she did
at the face of her cruel cold killer. She had been sexually assaulted and
violently raped; her clothes had been ripped from her young body. The bruising
on her arms and legs showed she had put up a brave struggle. Henry noticed that
a ring she wore on her left hand was missing. This was a present he had bought
for her on her sixteenth birthday.  A search of the scene had failed to recover
it, so it was assumed the killer had taken it. Henry felt sick and horrified at
such barbarity. Looking at the photographs of his beloved niece, he realized
that the killer had also violated her beautiful memory. He pushed the file back
into its folder and locked it away in his drawer. No one was to look at his
precious girl as she appeared naked and vulnerable before the camera.

Sergeant Tim Bulliard entered
his office.

“Henry, we've got our first
suspect outside in the interview room, would you like to let Inspector Moore
interview him, or do you want to sit in on it with him?"

"I'll speak to Edward,
which of them have you brought in?"

"Sam Gaines."

"Where did you pick him
up?"

"He was picked up at an
address in Liverpool. He maintains he was staying there the last four
days."

 "He normally lives in
his parent’s house only two hundred yards from where Shirley was found.”

 “Were they questioned about
his whereabouts?"

 "I was at the house to
arrest him. Both his parents were there and they knew what we wanted to
question him about. His mother actually told me she thought it terrible that the
young girl’s body was found so close to her house. She said she was relieved
that her son wasn’t in town at the time of the murder.”

"Right Tim, I'll speak
to Edward."

Edward Moore was the senior officer
at the station. He was in his late fifties and looking forward to an early
retirement. Serious crime was rare in the small town of Runcorn, situated on
the banks of the Manchester Ship Canal, a short bus ride from Liverpool. With a
population of approximately twenty thousand, most of the local criminals were
known to the small police force and the closely knit community. The Gaines
family had a reputation for petty criminality going back a number of years. The
father, Joey was a fence for stolen property but did most of his business in
Liverpool and seldom did anything out of the way locally. His eldest son,
Thomas was in prison, serving time for burglary, along with a Liverpool gang
who were caught red handed in a bonded store relieving its owners of hundreds
of thousands of cigarettes. Sam, who was waiting to be questioned in the
interview room, was released from prison five months earlier having been
convicted for sexual assault. If it wasn’t for a passer-by who rescued the
unfortunate sixteen year old victim, his prison term would certainly have been
much longer. That particular case had been Henry's first serious investigation.
He conducted and presented his evidence meticulously, getting Sam five years.
Henry was convinced he was also responsible for the violent rape of another
sixteen year old. But the victim's family, who intended to immigrate to
Australia, became afraid that any adverse publicity might affect their application
for free passage to Sydney, so they adopted an indifferent attitude to their
daughter's plight. She refused to testify on the grounds that because the
attack happened in a dimly lit area, she wasn't sure of her attacker's
identity. Henry bore a deep-rooted dislike, bordering on hatred for Sam Gaines,
who he regarded as arrogant, worthless scum.

 Inspector Moore was leafing
through some papers on his desk when Henry walked into his office.

"Sit down Henry. I was
just going over the case files of Sam Gaines before I question him, but you
know his track record better than anyone."

 "I'd like to sit in on
the interview with you Edward."

"Do you think it wise
Henry? It could be very traumatic for you so soon after such this tragedy, but
if you feel you can handle the hurt, I'll go along with you."

"I'll just act as
observer and take notes."

"Right Henry. I have a
list of questions here. Look at them and see if you want to add anything."

Henry read the set questions.

"Yes they look ok. We’ll
see as we go along if there's anything we might add. He not the most
co-operative of people and can also be downright abusive."

 The interview room was
small, bare and lit by a single light bulb. It contained three chairs and a table.
When they entered the smoke-filled room, Gaines was seated at the table a
cigarette between his lips. He didn't lift his head - he seemed to be gazing at
something in the half full ashtray.

Edward sat at the table
opposite Gaines. Henry stood with his back to the wall almost facing Edward but
to the side of Gaines.

Without looking up at Edward,
he stubbed out his cigarette. Edward called out the time and date and wrote it
on the top of a blank sheet of A4 paper.

"Now Gaines, where were
you last Saturday night from the hour of nine o’clock until eight o’clock the next
morning?"

 "That the night the
young tart got it?" leered, the suspect.

He looked around and up to
where Henry was standing; he had a lecherous grin on his pocked marked face and
a few days of black stubble lent an evil look to his unpleasant features.

Henry could feel bile rising
in his throat but showed no emotion.

 "I was with my beloved
girl in Liverpool, she's a real sex machine."

"Just answer the
questions. What is the name and address of this girl?"

"I've already given that
to one of yer buddies. No wonder ye can’t solve crime when ye can’t even
co-operate between yourselves. Tis I should be in yer job, I'd find the lucky
bloke that screwed that delicious bit of fluff."

"Just answer the
questions. Where did you spend the night?"

"Well, at about nine o’clock
I screwed her. You could hear squealing in the next street. Then we went out
for a well-deserved drink - that screwing takes a bit out of yer."

"What pubs did you go
to?”

 "The Stag's Head. Ever
been there? Plenty of spare fluff, you'd like it. Especially Carter there, he might
even get his end away."

"Did you meet or speak
to anyone in that pub who can vouch for you being there?"

"Yeah, Stamps Lowry,
he's me girl’s brother, and a few of his pals. Carter knows most of them. He
tried to send them down but they were just too smart for him."

"Just answer the
questions." Edward's face was flushed and a vein on his right temple
pulsed a purple glow.

"Why aren’t I not doing
good? I can’t tell you who screwed the little tart, but the fancy prick teasers
get what they deserve."

Henry leaped across the room
and grabbed Gaines around the throat. He knocked him to the ground and pressing
his knee into his chest, he began to tighten his hands around his sinewy neck.

"Stop, Stop, Henry,
Stop!"

Edward fell over the
struggling pair; his seventeen stone weight knocking Henry off his victim.
Henry heard the loud gasps as Edward rolled over striking his head on the table
leg. Edward lay on his back, his purple lips framing a desperate gasp as his
upper dentures were gagging in his throat. Henry pulled the dentures from his
mouth and lifted his head.

 "Edward, Edward!”

 There was no recognition in
the protruding eyes. Henry laid his head back and an exhalation of breath came from
the dark orifice of a face; congealing blood was slowly coloring his cheeks
from bright red to dark blue. Henry jumped up and ran from the room to the
front desk. He shouted at the duty constable who was attending to a middle-aged
woman's complaint about some youths playing ball outside her home.

 "Quick Reg, call an
ambulance."

 

 Edward Moore was laid to
rest in the little cemetery of his home town where he had hoped to retire. He
had dreamed about fishing and the happy days of his youth. But as the mist rolled
in off the tranquil waters of Cardigan Bay, his return to the little Welsh coastal
town of Aberaeron was to be his final journey.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

The days and weeks that
followed seemed to blur and blot like spilt ink in Henry's brain. All the
suspects were brought in and questioned and all had cast iron alibis. Sam
Gaines lodged a formal complaint against Henry.

Henry knew his habits and
times of coming and going to a virtual ‘T’. After leaving the pub, Gaines would
go for a fish and chip supper then make his way across the waste ground near
the new building site where Shirley's body had been found, and through a narrow
dark alleyway to the street where he lived. This is where Henry confronted him.
He grabbed his shirt just under his chin shoving him into a small recess in the
old building.

Gaines started babbling.
"I'll report you if you touch me I'm warning you Carter."

His fish and chip supper fell
to the ground between them. Henry put his face close into his quarry's head,
the stale smell of beer and body odor nearly made him gag. "I'll tell you
this Gaines, once and only once; if you don’t go to the station tomorrow and
retract the complaint against me I'm going to file charges against you for
assault against Detective Inspector Moore, causing his death. With your record
you'll get fifteen years."

"But! but! I didn't
touch him, he fell himself when you tried to choke me."

"You try telling that to
a jury when I am the only witness who saw you. I'll have no bother getting you
sent down."

"That's against the law,
I'm innocent."

"What would you know
about the law you thieving rapist scum? Where the law doesn't fit justice reaps
revenge." Henry turned his strong lean frame and left the sniveling man
down on his knees groveling for his spilled supper.

 The case against Henry was
formally dropped next morning, but a new twist to his career emerged when
Edward Moore's replacement arrived from Scotland Yard, London. Stanley Knight
was the new Chief Inspector. A youthful looking man in his late forties with a
big reputation.

His first task was to meet
Henry. He had been briefed on the case of Shirley's death, and Henry's reaction
while following up the investigation. As Henry entered his office, the chief
inspector stood up from his desk and looking into Henry’s piercing blue eyes,
they shook hands.

"I'm very sorry to hear
about your sad loss. I'm sure you’ve known of my posting for some time, I’m the
new replacement for Edward."

“Yes Sir, we were expecting
you, but I must say I thought you'd be much older.”

 "Well Henry, I suppose
this new posting will add its quota of gray hairs. My first task is to solve
the case of your niece. I've already gone over all the information to date and
it looks like it could have been someone from outside the area. And from my
briefing, whoever it was they'll surely strike again. Our man in London, who is
our most senior authority on this type of crime, believes we are dealing with a
psychopath. There's an urgency coming from the top brass to get this fellow
before he strikes again. We've searched the records going back ten years and
didn't come up with anything resembling this pattern, so it may be a first off,
which would suggest a youngish fellow with some kind of abnormal sexual behavior."

"Sir, we've checked all
the known sex offenders within a fifty mile radius and have come up with nothing
substantial, or at least nothing to warrant an arrest or serious suspicion.
I've even gone so far as to check if there were any commercial travelers or
truck drivers staying over in any of the local guest houses that night, and
came up with nothing I could go with."

 "I'm afraid Henry, we
need a break and sooner than later. We’ll make another appeal to the public and
see if anyone can remember anything. Surely there’s someone out there knows or
suspects someone and can give us a lead."

Stanley leaned over and
handed Henry an envelope with his name typed on it. "You probably know
what this is; I've been given the job of breaking the news to you, but at the
end of the day, this break might be just what you need after all the trauma.
When you're this close to a serious crime, sometimes things can become a bit
distorted. Your altercation with this man Gaines, even though no one could
blame you, especially when dealing with scum like that, was not the deciding
factor in this six months compassionate leave. It’s with full pay I might add. It
is also the established rules that men in the force cannot take an active part
in investigating crimes involving their own families or close relatives."

Henry had been expecting to
be taken off the case, but could not believe he was being given six months
compassionate leave.  Brushing his blonde hair from his face with his hand, he
replied, "will you keep me up to date on any developments and if possible
let me assist you in anything where I might be of help?"

 "Henry, you will be
first to know when the slightest break comes, and hopefully that will be sooner
rather than later. In the short term would you consider a vacation, maybe even
with your sister and her husband, do you think it might help? You know that if
there’s anything I or any of your colleagues here can do to help, we'll be only
too glad to do."

Henry stood up to leave he
put the envelope into his pocket and shook hands again with the new chief.
"I'll call in from time to time and see how things are progressing. I
might see if Katherine and Denis would like to join me on a short break to the
countryside. I'm going to have to find some way of occupying my time. Maybe I'll
catch up on a bit of fishing."

 

There was no persuading
Katherine to go on with him on a break. She spent part of everyday at Shirley's
grave, and Denis who had gone back to his job, would often have to call to the
cemetery on his way home from work to collect her. Henry began to spend more
time with her when Denis was away at work. They’d often go to a café down near
the canal for morning coffee. Here, he'd distract her by reading the feature
stories from the daily papers. They'd sit by the canal and watch the ships sail
up to Manchester with their cargoes from faraway lands. "I wonder what
country she has come from and what kind of cargo is she carrying?" he
asked Katherine as a big Harrison Line ship sailed up the murky canal. She’d
remain silent and he’d answer for her.

 "Probably she has come
all the way from India or Pakistan with a cargo of jute for our clothes
industry."

Suddenly, they were startled
by the resonant sound of a ship's horn. Both turned to look up the canal and
steaming down to the lock was a big ship outward bound to the Far East. She was
resplendent with her gleaming painted sides and her blue funnel. They watched
and waved to her crew as she slowly made her way down to enter the locks to
take her out onto the River Mersey like some huge animal that would soon be
free to sail the vast oceans of the world.

"It must be a great life
for a young man to sail to the four corners of the world and see and experience
life on all the mighty continents. It’s a life I often thought I might have
liked if I hadn't joined the police force."

Katherine turned smiling.
"Look at all the nice girls you might meet, especially some of those
beautiful oriental girls. I believe they make wonderful wives."

"Will you ever stop
trying to get me married. Although yes, I could fall for one of those beauties,
he said with a faraway look in his eyes.

 “Life on the ocean waves.”

He thought to himself that
Katherine seemed to be coming back a little to herself. It was the first day
she hadn't mentioned going to visit Shirley's grave. He was going to suggest
going for a drive into Liverpool after lunch, and hopefully, little by little,
break her cycle of mourning.

 

They spent a pleasant
afternoon wandering around Liverpool. At Katherine’s insistence, Henry visited
shops he would never have dreamed of going into. Once inside, Katherine
insisted on rigging him out with an assortment of new shirts, underwear, socks,
shoes and ties he knew he'd never wear.

"You could do with a
nice new suit, or maybe a sports coat and slacks would be nice."

"Yes my dearest sister,
but I didn't bring that amount of cash so we'll have to leave it for another
day."

Out on the street again he
stopped to look in a jewelers shop window and spotting a beautiful cameo brooch
he turned to Katherine. "Come on in here a minute." He always had a
thing about cameo jewelry. His mother wore a cameo brooch on a silk scarf
around her neck. This more than anything was his fondest memory of her as she'd
hug him close to her and kiss him on the cheek when she was going out, telling
him to be a good boy. The cameo brooch was also the last thing he remembered as
she said goodbye to him when she was leaving with his father to go to hospital.
He was too small to be told how seriously ill she was, and shortly after he was
told she had gone to heaven. He didn't understand.

"Could I see that cameo
brooch you have displayed in the window?"

A pretty blonde girl with a
navy blue skirt and white blouse smiled. "I have the same one here."
She took it out of the showcase then placed it on the glass counter top.

 "Yes, that's the very
one. Look Katherine, do you like it?”

“But Henry you shouldn't buy
that for me."

"Yes I should." He
turned to the girl. "Could you please wrap it for me?"

 When they reached the car he
asked Katherine if she'd wear it. She took it out of the box and he pinned it
to the front of her blouse. "There you are, you look beautiful."

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