Dark Side of Tomorrow (Ivan Bennet of Scotland Yard Book 1)

by J. R. Martin

  The man of the hour rose and offered his hand first to Ivan and then to Walt as he said. “Ray Roberts is my name, I’m glad to meet you.”

  Ivan and Walt both acknowledge him with the usual “glad to meet you.” Then they took their seats and looked at the Commander with anticipation.

  “I have briefly gone over the situation with detective Roberts. He understands your theory and he understands what he’s expected to do. Our biggest concern is getting him hired on without anyone there knowing he’s undercover. That may prove very challenging.” The Commander said.

  “I think first thing I need to do is just go to the hospital HR and apply for a job. If nothing comes about quickly then we may have to take an alternate course.” Roberts said.

  “That sounds good.” Ivan said.

  “How far is that hospital from here at headquarters?” Ray Roberts asked.

  “It’s about five miles. As the crow flies it’s only about three miles, but going the regular route it’s a good five miles.” Ivan said.

  “And how far is the White Chapel District from the hospital?” Roberts asked.

  “As the crow flies, about half a mile, around the streets a good mile and a half.” Ivan answered.

  “Detective Bennett, what makes you feel so adamantly that this Garth Simmons is the active puppeteer who steers someone to kill these women in White Chapel?” Roberts asked.

  “Because I know this low life. I know his methods, I know how he thinks. He’s truly the most evil man I’ve ever encountered. He’s brilliant with his plans, he can lie and make you believe every word, but rest assured his evilness knows no bounds.” Ivan answered.

  “Okay, I’ll go to the hospital today and apply for a job. It may take a while before I can get in. But, rest assured I will get in. Then I’ll make a point to get to know Garth Simmons.” Roberts said smiling.

  “That’s all we are asking of you.” The Commander said. “You get on and then keep us informed about Simmons.”

  “Yes sir, will do.” Roberts replied. Then he rose and shook everyone’s hand and left headquarters.

  The office soon returned to normal routine and Ivan and Walt looked over last night’s events. For the first time in weeks there were no murders. Not in White Chapel and not anywhere in the city.

  “Wouldn’t it be wonderful?” Walt said, “if the city could always have a peaceful night?”

  “Oh, yeah, that would be great.” Ivan answered. “But, I see it as the silence before the storm.”

  “You may be right, detective.” Walt answered. “You may be right.”

  ****

  Ivan could scarcely keep himself from calling HR at the insane asylum and asking if they had any openings, but he realized that would tip their hand and he couldn’t do that. He had to trust Roberts to know what he was doing. When he got on they would have meetings at least three times a week, sometimes more often if it were warranted. Then and only then would they have an inside look at the life of Garth Simmons in today’s world. Ivan thought about the suspect and once again, chills ran down his spine.

  “Damn,” he said. “I know he’s guilty. I just know it.”

  Chapter Ten

  Roberts, aka. Morris Wims, slapped the mop bucket with the side of his mop causing the water to splash on the hospital floor. He quickly and unobtrusively cleaned up the water mess and moved on down the hall.

  He stopped in front of room 501 and knocked gently on the door. From inside a voice said softly, “do come in.”

  Taking the key from his pocket he unlocked the room door and rolled the mop bucket inside.

  Sitting on the edge of his bed, Garth Simmons started at the custodian and asked,

  “Aren’t you afraid to just walk in the rooms of we insane killers?”

  “What? Did you say insane killers?”

  “Yes,” Garth answered.

  “Should I be?” Wims answered with a question.

  “Well, according to all the policemen, doctors, nurses etc. yes, you should be.” Simmons answered with a wry smile.

  “Maybe tomorrow, but today this floor has got to be mopped. So, today I will mop your floor.” After saying that, Morris Wims carefully and meticulously mopped the room’s floor.

  Watching the man with hawk like eyes Garth smiled. “Well now aren’t you just the bravest soul. You don’t look one bit afraid of me.”

  “I’ll be out of your hair in just a minute. Is there anything I can get for you?” Morris asked Simmons.

  “Well, not unless you can let me out of this hell hole.” Simmons replied.

  “We both know I can’t do that, but I can bring you a cold drink, or perhaps a candy bar?” Wims offered.

  “No, if you can’t give me freedom then the other things don’t appeal to me.” Garth answered.

  “Well, should you change your mind just give me a shout.” Wims said as he rolled the mop bucket out of the room and locked the door.

  He glanced back through the peep hole in the door and saw that Simmons was still sitting on the side of his bed with a look of curiosity about him. He had a sly smile on his face.

  Wims went down the corridor doing the chores of a normal custodian. No one could tell by looking that he wasn’t exactly what he appeared to be. Little did they know that he watched everyone that entered the room of Garth Simmons, be it doctor, friend or nurse with the eyes of an eagle.

  Big Ben struck eleven p.m. with slow and steady beats. Each strike boomed the hour with authority. A shadowy figure stood for a brief moment on the fifth floor and then silently made its way to room 501, unlocking the door without hesitating. But, Wims was already off duty and missed seeing the late night caller.

  ****

  The next morning the two detectives, Ivan and Walt, waded through the torrential downpour, trying to get to the shelter of headquarters. They came through the doors brushing their heads and jackets off, knocking the rainwater to the floor. Then they went to their desks and looked about the room filled with lawmen.

  “What’s up?” Walt asked acknowledging the others.

  “Another murder in White Chapel,” the night Sargent who was leaving his night post said. “It came in about five this morning.”

  Picking up the phone Ivan dialed Morris Wims phone. He answered with, “Yeah.”

  “Heard there was another murder in White Chapel last night. Did you see anything out of the ordinary yesterday?” Ivan asked.

  “Nope sure didn’t. Think I’m going to change my hours to the graveyard shift. Eleven till seven in the morning. I don’t believe anyone out of the ordinary, or even in the ordinary, will visit Simmons during daylight.” Wims commented.

  “Do you think you can do that without raising suspension?” Ivan asked.

  “Oh, I think so. I’ll cook up a good excuse.” Wims said.

  Sure enough, the next day the Commander called Ivan and Walt in to tell them Wims now was working deep nights.

  “If you need him just remember he’s working those late night hours and he may not can just drop everything and leave without raising suspicion.” The Commander said.

  “Yes, he told me this morning he was going to do that.” Ivan said.

  “Commander,” Ivan said. “Was last night’s MO the same for that murder in White Chapel?”

  “Yep, exactly.” The Commander answered.

  “I think it’s time Walt and I do a stake out.” Ivan said.

  “Well, be my guests. But, it may be a dry run because the times of the murders have happened at all different hours.” The Commander stated.

  “Is tonight too soon to start?” Ivan questioned.

  “No, not if that’s what you want to do, but I doubt seriously there will be another murder this close to the last one.” The Commander stated.

  ****

  Walt and Ivan sit in the unmarked vehicle which was parked slightly inside an alley. They were consuming a thermos of coffee and Ivan said,

  “I think this will give us a chance to see who comes a
nd goes on these White Chapel streets at all hours of the night.”

  “Yeah, I really don’t understand why anyone would be out on these streets considering the killings that have been going on, especially the women.” Walt said.

  “Human mentality thinks, ‘it won’t happen to me.’ Ivan concluded.

  “It can happen to anyone when crazy people are on the loose.” Walt contributed.

  “Ivan, do you really believe with all your detective mindset that Garth Simmons is truly behind these murders?” Walt asked.

  “I truly believe he is.” Ivan said looking Walt directly in the eye. “I know he’s not directly the killer but I think he has a mini-me who acts out the murders that he conceives in his sick mind.”

  “Man, we truly are dealing with some lunatics, aren’t we?”

  “I’m afraid so, my friend, I’m afraid so.”

  Both men fell into silence, each lost in their thoughts. The windshield was soon covered in the late night London fog, obstructing a good view of the street.

  ****

  The graveyard shift at the Insane Asylum was truly a bewitching time at a very forbidding place. That was what Morris Wims was thinking as he mopped the hall floor of the hospital quietly. The only drawback with this shift was he wouldn’t have the chance to visit with Garth Simmons, unless of course Garth was awake this late.

  When he reached Garth’s room he peeped in the window of the door. To his surprise, Garth was sitting up reading.

  I wonder what that kind of books or magazine a man like Simmons, reads? Morris thought.

  As if by osmosis, Garth sensed someone was looking at him through the door. He said,

  “If that’s you out there Mr. Wims, do come in.”

  Morris picked the key from the ring of keys and inserted it into the lock. When the lock turned he opened the door. Garth was sitting quietly in a chair with the reading lamp on and he looked up at Morris when he entered the room.

  “Changed the hours you work, I see.” Garth said. “I’ve never understood why anyone would want to work this graveyard shift. Unless, of course, they find there’s not as many demands on them because most patients are sound asleep by now.”

  “That’s correct.” Morris Wims said, smiling.

  “And not as many complaints from the supervisors.” Morris added.

  Garth laughed a big belly laugh as though that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard and then he said, “Is that why you changed shifts, Mr. Wims?”

  “Exactly.” Morris smiled.

  “Well I can’t say as I blame you for that.” Garth smiled. “How do you like London’s Hospital for the Criminal Insane?”

  “It’s a job.” Morris said as dispassionately as he could.

  “Why would an intelligent man like you choose this line of work?” Garth asked.

  “When you’ve served time, you are lucky to find any kind of work.” Morris said.

  “Oh, you’re a felon? How interesting.” Garth said.

  “I’m afraid so.” Morris lied.

  “Well, well, do they know that here?” Garth continued with interest.

  “Yes, but they give felon’s second chances, according to the HR director. It depends on the offense.”

  “That’s good to know. And what was your offense?” Garth smiled. “Have a seat.” He continued.

  “Oh, no sir, I can’t do that. They pay me to work. Can I get you anything?” Morris innocently inquired, purposely neglecting to answer the question about his offense. He had already looked to see what Garth was reading and found it to be yesterday’s newspaper.

  “As a matter of fact you can, how about a nice Coke and a candy bar?” Garth smiled.

  “I’ll see what I can find in the break room.” Morris answered.

  He rolled his mop bucket out of the room, locked the door and closed the door window. He went to the breakroom and got a coke out of the machine and a candy bar of his liking as he had forgot to ask Garth which he preferred. Then he made his way back to room 501.

  Once more he opened the door’s window only to see Garth lying in bed this time. It looked as though he was asleep, so Morris didn’t disturb him. He quietly and quickly closed the door window and went about his business.

  ****

  It had been a week since Ray Roberts aka. Morris Wims and Detectives Bennett and Graham had started out on the stake outs, Morris at the Insane Asylum and the detectives on the streets of the White Chapel District. Up until now nothing remarkable had happened. Wims had made acquaintances with Garth Simmons and the detectives had become well acquainted with the streets. Other than that, it had been quiet.

  Ivan said, “I’m going to go across the street and get a snack to go with this coffee. I’m about coffee’d out and my brain is saying sugar, sugar, sugar. Can I get you something Garth?”

  “Yeah, bring me back a chocolate bar.” Walt said.

  Ivan got out of the unmarked car and walked slowly across the street. A misty fog engulfed everything making vision hard at even a close distance. Ivan walked in the store, ambled through the offerings of sweets and finally decided on a Hersey bar for both. The chocolate would give a great energy boost. He paid for the candy, and discussed what a miserably night it was with the store clerk, before he went back out and walked across the deserted street.

  When he opened the car door his eyes could not believe what they saw. Walt was slumped over in the seat, his throat had been slashed. Ivan forgot for a moment he was a detective and he screamed, “Oh, no, someone call the police.”

  Normally, Ivan was calm, cool and collected. Rarely did anything upset him so severely that he forgot what he was doing and in fact, who he was. When the City Police arrived they found a weeping broken man holding his partner in his arms, crying, “Oh, no. Walt. Oh, no.”

  The Paramedics pulled Walt’s body from Ivan’s arms and gave Ivan a shot to calm him down. Then the cops started questioning him.

  “Where were you when this happened?” They asked.

  “Across the street, I went over to get us a candy bar. We had been here so long we both were hungry and had far too much coffee.” Between sobs, Ivan said.

  “Detective Bennett, I’ve called someone from your headquarters to come and get you. You need to go to the hospital and get checked over and get something else to calm you down.” The Lieutenant said.

  What seemed like forever to Ivan, finally a car from Scotland Yard appeared and the Commander himself stepped out. He walked over to Ivan and said, “What happened here, Detective?”

  “I don’t know, Commander. I went to get us a candy bar and when I returned, poor Walt was dead.” Ivan said.

  The paramedic who had been assisting Ivan said to the Commander,

  “Sir, he’s in shock. You need to take him to the hospital and get him checked out. He needs something to make him relax. I’m fearful he’s going to have a heart attack.”

  ****

  It was almost two o’clock the next day before Ivan woke up enough to ask, “What’s going on?”

  The nurse smiled at him and said, “you’re awake. How do you feel?”

  “My head hurts and where am I?” Ivan asked.

  “Sir, you are in St. Mary Francis. You came in late last night. Hold on one minute and I’ll get the Policeman outside your door.”

  “The policeman outside my door? What are you talking about?”

  Chapter Eleven

  When the policeman came in Ivan asked, “What’s going on? Why am I in the hospital and why are you standing guard over me?”

  “Detective Bennett, your partner, Walt Graham was murdered last night in the White Chapel District. You had gone across the street to get something to eat and when you returned, someone had slashed his throat. You went into shock and they brought you to the hospital. They are afraid that whoever killed him might be after you as well.” The Policeman explained, as gently as he could.

  “Walt is dead? Oh, my God. Walt is dead?” Ivan kept asking.

 
“Yes, sir, I’m afraid so. I’m so sorry.”

  After the policeman left his room, Ivan got out of bed and walked to the window.

  I can’t believe I’ve lost another person I loved so much. Why does this keep happening to me? Why are people around me always dying? Ivan thought.

  In his mind his thoughts continued to agonize, maybe you are a unlucky charm. Maybe you bring bad luck to anyone that’s around you.

  Not until the young nurse came in with his meds did Ivan break his gaze out the window. He accepted the pills and swallowed them all at once. Then he asked the nurse to send the policeman outside back in.

  When the policeman entered, Ivan asked, “Do you know when Walt’s funeral will be?”

  “From what I’m told sir, it will be tomorrow.”

  “Thanks,” Ivan said and went back to lie down in bed. He closed his eyes and let the effects of the pill wash over his body. Maybe he could sleep and not have nightmares. When not dreaming he could escape the bounds of reality. Life had become almost more than he could endure. Once more Ivan wished he was lying next to Eve in West Minister Abby’s graveyard, at peace, not having to deal with life.

  Finally, Ivan slept.

  ****

  The funeral possession wound through London’s streets until it reached the cemetery where Walt would be laid to rest. Ivan rode in the car directly behind Walt’s grieving family. His wife and children’s grief bore on Ivan’s heart until he felt he would keel over from the sheer weight of the sorrow.

  When the cars stopped outside the cemetery, Ivan walked with the others down to the gravesite. He stood at attention while taps were played and when the twenty one gun salute sounded through the quiet tombstones of the aging plots, Ivan’s body jerked with emotion.

  The sound of Walt’s sobbing family could be heard above the cold wind that blew from the north. It was a miserable day in London in all aspects. Ivan gazed at the policemen in full dress uniform. There were so many people in attendance. Walt would have loved that. He was a very sociable person, unlike Ivan who preferred his own company over having lots of people around.