by Stan Mason
‘You tell me what it’s all about,’ countered Chester abruptly. His attitude to practically everyone was rude and repulsive.
‘The fund is to prevent the rape and murder of young women in this country,’ returned the Chairman curtly.
‘How do you expect to do that?’ The question was almost insolent.
‘We have started to set up regional centres to combat any person or persons attacking women. We gain information from local people, get the assistance of the police, and counter all actions concerning the rape and murder of young women.’
‘Bully for you!’ muttered the claimant. ‘What about the people related to Amy? What do they get out of it?’
‘I think you’re on the wrong track, Mr. Chester,’ intervened another member of the committee. ‘We’re not here to farm out any of the funds to Amy’s family. That’s not the policy of the fund.’
‘Well it ought to be,’ he snarled angrily ‘I’m her bloody father! She’s been taken from me by some evil pervert! And, as you’ve got a fund, I should have part of it!’
‘You don’t understand... ,’ began the Chairman tiredly only to be interrupted rudely.
‘No... you don’t understand, Jack!’ yelled Chester at the top of his voice. ‘It’s the Amy Chester fund and I’m her father! I’m not going to sit here facing people like you... the fat cats... who use the money in the fund for their own expenses. Oh, no... I’m on to you lot! It’s not on!’
‘Mr. Chester,’ cut in another member, ‘we offer our services voluntarily and I don’t think anyone on this committee has taken one single penny from the funds in expenses.’
‘You’re all bloody liars!’ rattled Chester insultingly. The members of the board realised that it was impossible to continue the discussion. One by one they stood up to leave which inflamed the claimant. ‘That’s it, is it!’ he shouted at the top of his voice. ‘Go away with all the money! I know you’re cheating the fund.’ He paused for a moment to rally himself before continuing. ‘I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll keep my mouth shut about you robbing the fund if you let me have some of the money.’
The committee had already made their decision and, without any doubt whatsoever, they would not be offering any sums of money to Amy’s father.
He left the building to face a small crowd outside. To the forefront was Mrs. Chester who walked towards him and punched him firmly on the shoulder. He smiled at her whimsically and saluted like a soldier.
‘Hi, there, Elsie,’ he greeted, recognising her. ‘How are you these days?’
‘You bastard!’ she reproached him angrily. ‘You left me and your child when we needed you. Now, years later, you turn up out of the blue to try to get money from her fund. I would ask what kind of a man are you but I already know the answer to that! You’re a downright bastard!’
He laughed out loudly at her tirade. ‘You’re precious, Elsie, you know that!’ he retorted with amusement. ‘I don’t know how you can hold a grudge all these years. Didn’t you ever move on? No, I don’t suppose you did. You were always stupid enough to remain loyal to me.’
‘Get out of my sight,’ snapped Elsie furiously. ‘Seeing you again reminds me of what life was with you. It’s best that you crawl back under your stone and leave us alone.’
Chester tipped his cap with a grin on his face and went on his way without saying another word. He had tried and failed but he still remained undaunted. Maybe he might come back another time and try his luck again. After all, committees changed in time... and time was on his side.
3
Hunter recognised that his attitude towards Ellen needed to be revised quickly. He needed to get back into her good books again following his request to interview the pupils at the school. He had eaten humble pie at the time, having conceded by seeing the pupils act in the play Beauty and the Beast at the school but, quite clearly, it wasn’t sufficient to please her in itself. He needed to do something much more close to her heart... something far more memorable in order to please her. But how far was he ready to go? There was still the spectre of his dead wife hovering over him in the background, although her spirit failed to haunt him any more now that he lived with Ellen in her apartment. Nonetheless, Ruth was still a part of him in this world until he resolved the mystery and discovered the identity of Amy’s killers. However, he realised that if he waited until he found them, any relationship he desired to develop in his life might be ruined from the start by the extended effluxion of time. A person had to get on with his life after the death of a loved one but, in his case, it appeared that he didn’t have much choice in the matter unless he took the situation into his own hands. So what decision should he make with regard to Ellie? He was in love with her and wanted to develop their relationship to its highest level. Time was the major element. He didn’t want to lose her because years went by until he succeeded in his quest.
He drove down the High Street with no particular thought in mind trying one way and another to resolve the problem before stopping his car in a parking lot, placing a coin into the slot of a parking meter. He stared at the shops that lined the pavement to discover that he was facing a jewellery shop. It was quite clear to him that fate had driven him to that particular place. It had to be! He entered the shop and waited until the assistant behind the counter finished serving another customer.
‘I’m looking for an engagement ring,’ he ventured, hoping that he was doing the right thing.
‘Of course,’ responded the woman calmly, going to the window to remove a tray of rings. She placed them on the counter and smiled at the architect. ‘Have a look at these,’ she advanced, standing back a pace.
Hunter studied the rings in the tray and eventually pointed to one of them. ‘That’s a beauty,’ he exclaimed. ‘How much is it?’
The assistant told him the price and he reeled slightly at her reply. ‘If it’s too expensive...’ she went on.
‘No,’ he interrupted sharply. ‘It’s okay. I was just a little surprised at the price.’
‘What’s her finger size?’ asked the woman.
Hunter shrugged his shoulders aimlessly. ‘I have no idea,’ he explained unwittingly. ‘She’s a slender woman with kind of thin fingers, if that helps.’
‘In that case,’ returned the assistant, ‘this ring ought to fit her perfectly.’ She removed a small jewellery box from under the counter and placed the ring neatly inside. ‘Do you want it gift-wrapped?’
‘No... it’s perfect as it is,’ he told her, handing a plastic payment card to her.
He walked out of the shop holding the jewellery box tightly wondering what kind of reaction he would get when he gave Ellen the ring. She wouldn’t be expecting it so the element of surprise was on his side. When should he give it to her? He thought about taking her out to dinner to a fine restaurant in the evening but then realised she would be suspicious of his actions and the surprise would not be as great. The only alternative was to give it to her in the little cafe where they had tea after school each weekday. Yes... that would be ideal. She would not be expecting anything then and the effect would be maximised.
However, fate had other ideas and it took a turn for the worse at the end of the school day. As the architect stood outside the school waiting for Ellen to emerge, he noticed another man standing there. He hardly gave him a glance expecting him to be meeting one of the children as they ran out from class. However, when Ellen walked out, the man went directly towards her holding out his arms. Hunter was taken aback for a moment stunned to see the man hug the schoolmistress warmly. Ellen looked across at Hunter appearing extremely embarrassed at the arrival of an ex-flame.
‘This is Terry Mahoney, one of the men I dated after Alan was killed in Iraq,’ she explained awkwardly before turning back to the man. ‘Why are you here, Terry?’
He laughed at her comment and kissed her gently on the cheek. ‘
I thought I’d refresh our relationship if you’re still available. You know how much I always thought of you, sweetheart. I was on a rig in Dubai but now I’m back.’
The architect became filled with jealousy and was almost on the edge of intervening in the conversation before he restrained himself. The last thing he want on this particular day was to have to face an unwarranted rival challenging for Ellen’s hand. Consequently, he resented the presence of the man strongly.
Ellen stared at Mahoney directly and shook her head slowly. ‘I’m really flattered, Terry, but I’m afraid you’re too late,’ she advised him blandly. ‘I’m with someone else now. I’d like you to meet Jeff.’
Mahoney glanced at Hunter and screwed up his face in annoyance. ‘That damned job. I knew I’d left it too late!’ he moaned. ‘Sometimes I’m a fool to myself. i could have stayed in England and courted you! I don’t suppose you’d marry me, would you?’
‘No,’ she replied becoming even more embarrassed. ‘I don’t think I will.’
The man dwelt on whether to press his claim more firmly but after looking at the expression on Hunter’s face decided against it. Instead he turned towards the two of them with a wry grin on his face. ‘Well,’ he said finally, ‘I wish you both good luck. Look after her, man. She’s precious. Goodbye sweetheart.’ He kissed Ellen on the cheek again and walked slowly away from the school thinking it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all..
‘Poor man,’ related Ellen to the architect. ‘He never had a chance with me. We only went out twice and, as far as I was concerned, that was enough.’
Hunter was relieved to see Mahoney’s departing figure. He had expected a long discussion and a following confrontation, or perhaps something worse to happen, but the event passed without further incident. Nonetheless, the architect had been alarmed and very disturbed that Ellen might ask the man to join them for tea which would have seriously affected the architect’s plans.
They walked away from the school and he took her hand lovingly, staring into her eyes and kissing her briefly on the lips before they continued onwards to the cafe. After tea had been served, he looked across the table with mischief in his eyes and she stared at him strangely.
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ she demanded with a tinge of amusement in her voice.
‘I’m going to delight the Lady Dowager,’ he told her boldly.
‘And how are you going to do that?’ she asked with a lilt of laughter, wondering what he had in mind.
Hunter produced the small jewellery box from his pocket and opened it to reveal the ring. ‘This is for you,’ he announced proudly.
‘Are we getting engaged?’ she asked as he hadn’t told her the reason for presenting it to her.
‘Of course,’ he riposted. ‘I want you to marry me, Ellen. This is your engagement ring. Try it on.’
She took the ring out of the box and placed it on the fourth finger of her left hand admiring it. ‘It’s brilliant!’ She leaned across the table and kissed him firmly on the lips.
‘You haven’t said ‘yes’,’ he added.
‘You haven’t asked me anything,’ she retorted.
He rose and moved towards her, bending down on one knee. ‘Ellen Masters,’ he said solemnly, ‘will you marry me?’
‘You bet I will,’ she replied with fervour. ‘And you can be certain that the Lady Dowager will be delighted.’ They kissed warmly and she looked at him rather puzzled. ‘But why are you asking me now?’
‘I’ve been a bit of a bore lately,’ he confessed freely. ‘My mind’s been on the case and I’ve neglected you... which is the last thing I want to do. So, to make up for my bad behaviour, and because I love you so much, I’m asking you to marry me. It was going to happen in the long run anyway. The only concern I had is that you might want to wait a bit longer... but then that’s what engagements are all about, aren’t they?’
‘The pupils at the school will be confused. They’ll have to start calling me Mrs. Hunter.’
‘And so will I,’ he joked, laughing as he did so.
‘Hold on,’ she told him. ‘I must ring mother to tell her the news.’ She took a mobile telephone from her handbag and dialled a number. ‘Mother!’ she exclaimed when the call was answered. ‘I’m engaged. Jeff asked me to marry him.’
‘Well about time!’ rattled the Lady Dowager in mock anger. ‘What took him so long?’
‘Well you know what men are like,’ returned Ellen in amusement. ‘I didn’t push him, I promise.’
‘Congratulations, my dear,’ said her mother jubilantly. ‘My wish is that you have a rich and happy life together.’ The conversation continued a little longer before it ended, then Ellen turned to her fiance. ‘It may not surprise you,’ she laughed, ‘but mother approves. She wants us to go there this weekend for a small celebration party.’
‘I look forward to that,’ he returned readily. ‘Mind you, I’m always wary when I attend my future boss’s parties.’
She gave him a playful slap on his arm and looked directly into his eyes. ‘To be honest, I foresaw myself as an old maid never meeting anyone of the opposite sex after Alan was killed in Iraq, let alone getting married. But it’s all different now I’m going to be Mrs. Hunter.’
‘You like saying that, don’t you,’ he uttered delighted at her response. ‘Mrs. Hunter. Yes... I think it suits you.’
‘As long as you never call me the second Mrs. Hunter,’ she chided gently. ‘I don’t think I could stand that.’
‘It’ll never happen,’ he concluded, taking her hand and staring at the large diamond ring set in a Whitechapel setting.
‘Yes,’ she mused. ‘I’d rather be called Mrs. Hunter than Mrs. Maloney. I mean it’s not every day a woman gets two proposals of marriage within fifteen minutes.’
He shook his head although he was less than amused by her comment. However, he knew he had done the right thing to please her. All the guilt that had built up inside him was suddenly vanquished. He had won over the woman of his dreams and could hold his head up high.
***
At the first opportunity, Hunter went to his car to find his road atlas, turning to the page of a map of London. He placed an ‘X’ on the location of the police station, found a protractor and drew a circle seven and a half inches in diameter around the spot. He knew that the area might be ten inches in diameter but that would widen the search considerably. It was possible that the building in which the killers carried out their deed was somewhere within the circle... a property with a permanent canopy over the front door held up by two thick columns. The two killers had worn paramedic’s jackets but there was doubt in the architect’s mind whether they worked at a hospital. The jackets were more likely to be a cover for their activities, especially when they abducted a woman in daylight.
To get into the mind of the killers he analysed the facts slowly. They wore paramedic jackets but underneath the man wore a smart grey suit, a shirt and a tie. It indicated that he worked in an office or was perhaps employed as a salesman. The culprits were both in their early twenties and they had ready access to the third floor of a building. They preyed on young women but there was no obvious connection between the victims as yet. No connection whatsoever. He struck the steering-wheel with his fist in frustration before realising there were three things he had to do as soon as possible. The first was to revisit the pathologist to determine whether the body of Inge Carlson, the Swedish student, had the mark made by a hypodermic needle. The second was to tour the area to try to find the building where Sophie Taffler, and the other women, had been taken. There couldn’t be too many places with a permanent canopy on two thick major columns. The third task was to go to the hospital within the circle to find out the names and ages of the paramedics in case the killers were employed there.
When he arrived at the morgue, the
pathologist turned up her nose as soon as she recognised him. He noted the expression on her face which showed her resentment at having to answer his questions or re-examine one of the bodies.
‘I just wanted to check whether Inge Carlson had the mark of a hypodermic needle on her body.’
‘I didn’t see one,’ she retorted with a tinge of anger in her voice.
‘Can I ask you to look at the body again?’ he demanded, although his tone was gentle.
She shrugged her shoulders as though it was a burden and took him into the morgue where she pulled out the drawer that contained the woman’s body.
‘See for yourself,’ she challenged. ‘There’s no marks of that kind on the body. Did you think she was taking drugs?’
Hunter looked at one of the arms of the dead woman and then touched it. The flesh was cold and clammy and he felt revulsion for a moment. Pulling himself together he lifted the right arm with one hand and pointed with his other hand to a tiny puncture at the edge of the armpit.
‘What’s that?’ he asked, knowing what the answer would be full well.
‘I never noticed that,’ gasped the woman, shocked to note the puncture.
‘There’s one more thing,’ advanced the architect. ‘Can you tell me whether she had an abortion.’
‘Look,’ stated the pathologist. ‘This was a simple rape and murder. There was no reason for me to check whether she had an abortion.’
‘It could be important to the case,’ returned Hunter, with a new idea focussing in his mind. Thinking like the killers, he recognised that Amy Chester had had an abortion. What if Inge Carlson did the same thing? There would certainly be a connection between the women in the case if that were so. Unfortunately, the body of Elspeth Dainty was too decomposed to check whether that had taken place. However, if it was proved that Inge Carlson had had an abortion it was almost certain that the same thing applied to Elspeth Dainty.
