Mystery 1:
The Isherwood Case Files
The Mystery of the Missing Wives
By Johnny Scotland
Chapters 1 – The Uninvited Guest
“Trust is not just a matter of truthfulness, or even constancy. It is also a matter of amity and goodwill.”
Gary Hamel
Detective Charley Bradley hadn't been consulted. This irritated him. The Chief had a habit of making decisions which affected Charley's working life, without letting him in on the secret. The latest idea seemed crazy. Charley had shared it with his partner and the idea of a British detective joining their number was sneered at.
“Don't you think we've seen enough of this nonsense on TV?” he chided. “The guy is no doubt a snob and from what I hear, he isn't that sociable.”
“I thought all Brits were sociable.” laughed Robert. Robert knew his partner's temperament well enough to be able to tell when he was really upset but also well enough to tease the guy when he thought he may be a little out of line. He could at least give the guy a chance to introduce himself before condemning him to the Charley Bradley silence.
It wasn't going to be long before the introduction and as the tall stranger walked into the office next to the Chief, they all knew who he was. His reputation had arrived before him and the idea was to help the department to get better results. The Chief was not satisfied with the amount of homicides which were slipping through the net without being solved. Jon Isherwood was to be the answer to all of their problems, having come with impeccable references and a backlog of successes, unlike any other homicide detective that the chief had ever known.
“I want to introduce you all to Detective Jon Isherwood.” said the Chief.
Everyone in the office looked toward this stranger. His tall, suited body looked too neat and tidy. His hair was perfectly cut and, to top the lot, the other detectives noticed that this Brit exuded the typical “British attitude” by carrying a briefcase and an umbrella. They didn't have to say anything. These detectives knew what the others among their crew were thinking, and the smirks that greeted Jon Isherwood made it clear that he was an outsider.
“Have you cleared a desk for Jon?” the Chief asked Charley.
“I sure have.” he answered, his accent overplaying its Texas drawl. He was no longer in Texas, though occasionally, the drawl that he had grown up with came back into his voice, especially if he was being sarcastic and emphasizing his “American” pride.
He led Jon to the desk at the front of the office. This is where people came when they had complaints. Just before Jon Isherwood had entered the room, Charley had joked with his fellow detectives “If we give him the front desk, he can deal with all the neurotic women we get in here that are a waste of time.” They had all agreed and that was the state of play as Jon Isherwood hung his overcoat on the coat rack together with his umbrella and walked toward what was going to be his desk for the period he was to spend with the Los Angeles Police Department.
“What do we call you?” asked Robert, trying at least to be friendly to the guy.
“Most people call me Isherwood.” he said. “It's been like that since I was a child.” he explained.
“Then Isherwood it is!” said Robert, walking over to shake the man's hand.
The rest of the office followed suit though Charley was last in line. He didn't need some Brit to clean up the departments error ratio. If they didn't catch a killer, it was because it was not possible, not because they were inefficient. He had worked in this department for a long time and was a little irked that the Chief should feel it necessary to inject a little British logic into the picture. Sure, the Brits had the reputation for being thorough, though Charley resented the presence of Isherwood more than even he could have explained. Tied to his position as detective for so long, it always seemed that others got the promotion, while he sat here waiting to take dead men's shoes. Now he had to contend with babysitting a Brit who had no idea of the territory at all.
He looked across the room toward Isherwood with a kind of disdain. Isherwood was indeed a smooth looking character, but there was something dated about his appearance. It was like he had stepped off the shelves of a library from the times of Sherlock Holmes and the accent was what American women described as “cute” while Charley found it irriratingly upper class.
All that was missing from the picture was the pipe and the deerstalker hat.
Chapter 2 – A Plea for Help
“Fear does not shut you down, it wakes you up.”
Veronica Roth
When the well dressed, middle aged woman entered the office, it was to be Isherwood that greeted her. Charley and boys saw her as just another annoyance. Often, women would turn up in the homicide department because they had no drama in their lives and had found some kind of solace in inventing dramas that turned out to be dead leads. This lady seemed to be no exception. She had read in the newspaper that the Los Angeles Police department were working in conjunction with Isherwood from Scotland Yard. Being impressed with his track record, Jessica Randall approached him with expectations all of her own.
“I understand that you are helping the homicide department.” she said after the initial introduction. “I am certainly glad of that.”
“Do take a seat, madam.” said Isherwood, moving around the desk to make sure that her seat was correctly placed to receive her. There were sniggers from the back of the office. This took chivalry a little too far.
Returning to his seat, Isherwood observed the woman. Observation was the most vital asset he had in his fight against crime. She was unpretentious, lacked dramatic indulgence and spoke with a sincerity which endeared her to him.
“I am worried about my sister. She is involved with someone whom I believe you need to investigate.”
Isherwood looked into her eyes and observed that this was more than a gesture of sisterly love. The woman was afraid and the fear showed in the dilation of her pupils. This wasn't someone seeking attention.
“Tell me about why you are so concerned.” he said. “Presumably she is a woman above the age of consent?” he added.
“She is a grown woman and of course can make her own choices, though I believe those choices may be putting her in danger. The truth is that the man she has just announced as being her fiancé is a man of dubious character. I believe he has been married several times and my instincts tell me that he isn't leveling with her about the demise of these women. I also believe him to be trying to poison her though of course is eager to marry her before she dies.” she added.
“In what way do you believe he is deceiving her?” he asked, although the other detectives in the office had by now become disinterested in his interrogation techniques and certainly in any story the woman was spinning.
“I believe he murdered his former wives.” she said.
“I have been checking out records of deaths, and there appear to be no records on the last two wives, although clearly the man was married to each of the women on this list.”
She handed him the paper with the names on it. It seemed a little excessive for a man to have killed three wives though Isherwood had known worse cases. In this day and age, divorce always seemed to be an easier way out of a relationship, although there would have to be other motives, such as financial gain which proved to be too risky in the case of divorce.
“How well off is this gentleman?” Isher
wood asked.
Jessica Randall looked into his eyes. There she could see a man who was genuinely interested in what she had to say. She had spoken to others about her doubts, but they had sneered at the notion and told her that she had too vivid an imagination.
“He is extremely rich.” she said with a house to match the image.” she added.
“And how rich is your sister?” he asked.
From her blush, he could tell that she had no need to answer. Rich people don't generally like to boast their position to strangers, especially those whose fortune was hereditary. Those who came into money were always pleased to show off their wealth, though the upper classes didn't do that. He apologised for the question, knowing it had made her very uncomfortable. Having taken the name and address of the gentleman in question, Isherwood assured her that this would be investigated and that she could rest assured that her complaint had been taken seriously.
Chapter 3 – Suspicion
“We are always paid for our suspicion by finding what we expect”
Henry David Thoreau
The Chief had told Charley and Robert to accompany Isherwood in his inquiries, at least until he had found his feet in the area. The case seemed a waste of time as far as Charley was concerned and although Robert was happy to go along with Isherwood for the ride, he had his doubts whether this case would lead to anything.
In the squad car on the way to the address the woman had given, Isherwood asked the others how long it would take to arrive. “About two minutes.” said Charley. With that, Isherwood dialled the number of the suspect, William Walters, and they could hear him conversing with the man. As soon as he put the phone down, they showed their amazement. “We don't usually telephone suspects to tell them we are arriving.” said Charley.
“Then you miss a great opportunity.” said Isherwood. The silence that followed showed their disapproval. When they turned up outside the house of the suspect, Isherwood was quick to press the doorbell and Charley and Robert followed him into the suspect's house. It was a beautiful building and obviously owned by someone with money. This was clear to all of them, though what wasn't clear was what Isherwood was going to say to the man. You don't walk in and ask someone if they murdered their ex wives. Instead of the usual, Isherwood got into conversation with the man, complimenting him on his taste in literature.
“We are investigating a missing person report.” he said. “We just wondered if you could help us.”
“Of course.” said the man. “I will be glad to do anything that I can.”
“I believe you used to be married to a woman by the name of Mary Wellesley.” said Isherwood. At that the man looked decidedly uncomfortable. That had been the name of his first wife and he hadn't heard her name for a while.
“Yes.” he said, mocking distress. “She died in 1992.”
“What I need from you, sir” said Isherwood. “is the name of her brother, as we believe he may be able to help us to locate the person in question.”
The detectives looked slightly surprised by this statement as did Mr. William Walters. He went to his bureau and pulled out his address book. As he went through the book, Isherwood watched him very carefully.
“Here's the address that you need.” he said.
“Is he married?” asked Isherwood.
“No.” scowled Walters. “He's got more sense.”
Leaving the house, the detectives walked side by side toward the squad car. They would have to write up a report and that's what irritated Charley. It was a waste of time and a waste of paper and he really thought that the interview had achieved nothing at all.
As he finished writing up his report and Robert did his, Isherwood sat writing wildly onto the report sheet as if frantically trying to remember details that seemed to the others to be irrelevant.
“So you think you have this case busted?” joked Charley.
“Actually, I think I do.” said Isherwood who had by now finished writing the report. As he read over the final statements in his report, he was satisfied that Jessica Randall had indeed been telling the truth and that this man was a murderer. The short conversation that they had experienced had given him enough ammunition to actually know the man's guilt, though proving this would be the difficult thing, since American laws were quite complex. If they couldn't prove the link between the deaths and the man, or indeed that the man was attempting to murder Jessica's sister in time, then Jessica's life was indeed in danger.
Action had to be taken pretty soon and ignoring the apathy of the two detectives he had been working with, he presented his report to the Chief. The Chief peered over both his own detective's reports and that of Isherwood and was astounded at the discrepancies.
Chapter 4 – The Effects of Slow Poison
“Trust your instincts, and make judgements on what your heart tells you. The heart will not betray you.”
David Gemmell
It wasn't easy to sit back and watch her sister suffering. Jessica Randall knew that her sister, Ruth, was in danger. It hadn't been coincidental that Ruth had been so ill. She had seen the rings around her eyes, and yet her sister was so besotted with William Walters. She had known the name because somewhere in her past, she recalled reading about the guy having lost his wife. That was an age ago and since then, he had married twice and both wives had seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth. The police could check now and see that it wasn't her imagination.
The end of the summer was coming, and they had planned an early Autumn wedding. She was just hoping that she could persuade her sister to hold back for a while, and thought of a way to do this.
“Hi sis.” she said to the answering machine.
“I've been called away with work and have to be abroad for your wedding date. Is there any way that you can put it off a couple of weeks?”
She actually had providence on her side, since she knew that her sister would never agree to getting married without her there. Since the death of their parents, Ruth had depended upon her to be there for her. She was the sister that looked after her through the grief that she had felt at the loss of her mother. Her father's death had been somewhat easier to swallow because he had suffered from so much pain that death was almost a relief. As for her mother, that was a different matter. Neither of them had had time to digest that properly, since her mother died of a heart attack, having had no previous record of health problems concerning the heart. It just packed up.
She felt the instinct to warn her sister about her intended husband, though when she had shown any form of disapproval her sister had been so upset that this was not a way to gain points in her sister's eyes, and certainly not a good way to win her over to putting off the wedding. As it was, perhaps she could stall things long enough for the police to make inquiries. The policeman she had spoken to seemed very sincere and she hoped that he would have news for her in the near future.
When Isherwood did telephone her, he confirmed that she should indeed try to stall the wedding. He had telephoned on impulse and she had known that what he said made good sense. The family money was safe until rings were exchanged. Then, Walter would have the advantage of being married to a very wealthy woman indeed.
There was a bright sun in the sky above, as Jessica Randall made that call to her sister. She didn't like lying. It wasn't her nature, and it was because of this that she knew her sister would postpone the wedding until her return. For the time being, she had to stay out of the limelight so that Ruth didn't get a chance to try and talk her out of a business trip which was supposedly happening at the time of the wedding. Of course, positive dates had not been set, but she knew her sister well enough to know the dates that she would choose. These were significant dates in her family. The first two weeks of September were special to Ruth because they were dates when their parents had celebrated several family events. Their own wedding anniversary and the birth of Ruth were both within that time frame.
Delay gave the police time to check out the guy's backgrou
nd and check what had happened to his previous wives. Although Ruth was convinced that they had died abroad, that didn't account for there being no record in the United States of their deaths. That was strange to say the least and it was this information that had prompted her to ask for the help of the police in the first place.
Now, all that she could do was wait and hope that her sister had enough loyalty to her to agree to the postponement. She telephoned Isherwood to let him know what she had done. Keeping him in the loop seemed very important, especially since this was his first case in the States and he was out to gain a reputation for himself, even though his reputation from overseas had been very impressive. Luck had struck right and the time when she needed it and she thought herself very fortunate indeed to have been greeted by a Detective that actually cared about the fate of her sister, even if the facts were speculative at best.
Chapter 5 – The Findings of Isherwood
“Trust instinct to the end, even if you can give no reason.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson
The Chief was frustrated with the results of his department. The idea of employing Isherwood was to teach old dogs new tricks. Today, he would show the team of detectives in the homicide squad how detective work should be done. He had arranged a meeting with all of them, and had asked Isherwood to attend as a speaker. The comparison between Isherwood's report and the report of his detectives told different stories. It was time to show them how detective work should be done.
Mystery: The Isherwood Case Files (Mystery, Suspense, Crime, Murder, Detectives, Fiction, Unsolved Mysteries, Mysteries, Thriller, Intense, Drama) Page 1
