by Paul Charles
“No, I don’t think so. I’m not sure there’s much more to be learned from her at this stage. Perhaps the less we bother her the more she’ll think she’s gotten away with it and the more careless she’ll become. No, let’s not go and see her. Let’s get stuck back in John B. again. Let’s find out everything we can about him. I keep feeling if we get to know more about the man’s life this will all fall into place for us,” said Kennedy.
“Okay, we’ll start digging into Stone’s background immediately and I’ll get back to you as soon as we turn up anything of interest,” Irvine said as he left the office. Then, just as Kennedy reached for the recently delivered file, his telephone rang.
It was Castle looking for an update on the case. Well, not so much an update as confirmation that Kennedy now concurred with him, and that now they were in possession of Anderson’s statement and the confession (though limited) contained therein, surely the case was concluded.
Kennedy kept the conversation brief, barely mentioning the several loose ends he was tying up. He told only a limited version of the truth because if Castle were to become aware of the full extent of Kennedy’s recent instructions to DS Irvine he’d go off on one of his “You know everything doesn’t have to be so complicated, old son” lectures.
Kennedy hoped he would get to the file on Anna Elliot before ann rea rang him, and consequently each time the phone rang, as it did repeatedly for the next eight and a half minutes, he dreaded picking it up. None of the calls were important, however, and thankfully none of them were from ann rea.
Chapter Thirty-Three
When, eventually, Kennedy had a chance to check the file, small though it was (three pages), he had but one word to say on reaching the end of it: “JAYSUS!”
Chapter Thirty-Four
So it was at this point, late Thursday afternoon on the third day of the case, which turned out in reality to be the fourth day of the case, when everything went pear shaped, as in totally pear shaped.
Kennedy had now read the file three times and he didn’t know whether to ring ann rea - he realised in fact that this was not a possibility - or go and speak with Castle - probably a bad idea since the Super was going to be very disappointed for the second time that day - or regroup with his team immediately and continue with the investigation but in an entirely new direction.
He did none of the above. Instead he reviewed the Anna Elliot files for the fourth time.
Early, about eight a.m. on the morning of the October 20th, 1973, a young girl was discovered by a Regent’s Park gatekeeper, a Mr Stanley (Stan) O”Donnell, who was opening the park gates at Gloucester Gate. The gatekeeper thought he saw something move in a pile of autumn leaves which were caught in a wind trap at the back of the washerwoman fountain near the gate.
Stan, the statement revealed, at first couldn’t see anything, and had just about convinced himself it was merely the wind rustling through the leaves when he heard moaning. He bent over the fountain’s stone and saw a young girl lying amongst the leaves. She was, he stated, sobbing gently.
The gatekeeper helped her out with a lot of coaxing and, on not being able to extract any additional information, helped her the short distance to North Bridge House.
The girl, one seventeen-year-old Anna Elliot, had been reported missing the previous evening by a very distraught Daniel and Lila Elliot. Daniel had rang, the file showed, at 20.50, also at 21.20, and again at 21.47. He visited the station, with his wife, at 22.12 and remained at North Bridge House until 01.20 the following morning.
His daughter had gone out for a walk on Primrose Hill at 18.30 and was due to return at 19.30 to watch her favourite soap. When she failed to return the worried parents had waited a nail-biting one hour and twenty minutes before making the first of their calls to the police station.
Kennedy knew that they would have been reassured with a ‘she’d probably gone to see her friends,’ or ‘she must have met someone on the hill and chatted, forgetting the time as youngsters have a habit of doing.’ He also knew that the worried parents would have been asked questions like ‘Is she happy at home?’, ‘Did they have a row?’, ‘Has she done this before?’ and ‘Did she have a boyfriend?’ The parents would also have been advised that their daughter could not officially be classified as missing until twenty-four hours after her absence had first been reported.
Upon her discovery the following morning her parents were sent for immediately. The file showed the father as being the only parent present. During the interview with WPC Leigh, and in the requested absence of her father, Anna Elliot made a statement telling what had happened to her.
She had been abducted by four youths, taken to the bushes near the St Edmunds Terrace entrance to Primrose Hill, and raped by three of the four youths. The file reported that her clothes, although dirty, were not torn.
Anna Elliot had supplied the names of three of her four abductors, who in turn had advised the police of the name of the fourth. All four had concurred that they had not raped the girl but that she willingly had sex with three of them. They all equally concurred that she didn’t have sex with the fourth because, they claimed, she wasn’t attracted to him.
This was obviously, Kennedy surmised twenty-four years later, going to be the major part of their defence.
Anna Elliot had her medical examination at 09.20 (no marks were found on her body) and left the North Bridge House at 10.12. The final note in the file stated that Daniel Elliot rang the station at 15.47 that afternoon and advised WPC Leigh that they would not be pressing charges against any of the youths.
The file was marked: “No Further Action.”
Kennedy, saddened as he always was and disappointed by the way humans behave with each other, looked once again at the names of the four youths involved in the incident with Anna Elliot on the evening of October 19th, 1973:
Mr Jerry Clive MacKane, aged 17 years. Mr John Brendan Stone, aged 17 years. Mr Rory Nash, aged 16 years. Mr Neil Robin Burton, aged 15 years.
The detective wasn’t as shocked by the second name on the list as he was by the fourth.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Kennedy made his decisions, quickly, efficiently, effortlessly. He summoned Anne Coles, James Irvine and PCs Alloway, Gaul, Shaw and Essex. He advised them of his startling (accidental) discovery.
“Okay, Jerry Mac Kane was seventeen years old, which would mean he’s now forty-one, and Rory Nash was sixteen years old which means he’s now forty. Both these people potentially are in danger.” Kennedy paused so that he, as well as those gathered, could take in the enormity of the statement. He made a fist with his left hand and as he lifted it towards his audience he freed his forefinger so that it was pointing heavenward.
“So, we have to trace both of them as soon as possible. We must be diligent and track down every possible lead. Let’s go back to all the relations and friends of both Burton and Stone; someone must have a clue as to the whereabouts of their two former friends. You tend to remember your first group of friends.”
“Yes, and your first f-” Essex wisecracked only to be cut dead by Kennedy.
“Yes, PC Essex, you were about to say?” Kennedy found himself being a bit uncharacteristically ratty, but in this case not only did they have to solve the murders and find the murderer, but until such time as they did there was also a chance that two other people’s lives were in danger.
“I was about to say,” Essex replied, shrinking at being the focus of unwanted scrutiny, twitching nervously in his seat and running a hand through his prematurely greying hair to divert attention, “that you never forget your first fling, sir.”
“Yes, well I’m sure you’ll tell us all about it when it happens to you,” Kennedy replied briskly before continuing: “Now, Anna Elliot, she’s got to move to the top of our suspect list.”
“You think we’ve found our Miss Dipstick, sir?” Irvine inquired as he stopped writing in his notebook.
“Yes, I think we can assume that there is a very good cha
nce that Anna Elliot is our lady in black.”
“What about a relation of hers, seeking revenge on her behalf?” Coles posed. Kennedy could tell that she was happy about the way Essex had been dealt with. He knew that she shared his increasing annoyance at the laddish behaviour of some of the younger members of the force. He had hoped there was going to be no room for lager louts and football hooligans in the Met.
“No, none. Well, none capable. ann rea is currently with Anna Elliot’s father, who is over seventy and in quite bad health. Her mother died about eighteen months ago and Anna was an only child. The minute I hear from ann rea I’m going to go down and interview the father, Daniel Elliot, myself. ann rea has already spent some time trying to track down Anna. For a totally different reason, mind you. She wants to put father and daughter together again before he dies. So she may have some additional information for us.” And wishing ann rea would hurry up and ring him, Kennedy then dismissed the team, sending them out on the twenty-four year old trail of Jerry MacKane, Rory Nash and Anna Elliot. He asked Irvine to remain behind.
“Listen, Jimmy, could you go over and see Miss Forsythe again?” “Mrs, sir,” Irvine interrupted. “What?” “Mrs, sir. She was married once, a long time ago when she lived inthe Midlands. They separated but she kept her married name, although she did go to great pains to point out that she likes to be addressed as Doctor,” Irvine replied carefully so as not to stress his badly bruised jaw.
“Oh. Yes, I see, Mrs., yes, Doctor, of course. I had forgotten you had a date with her. How did it go?” At this stage Kennedy didn’t really give a rat’s arse about how the date went, but he was too polite not to make some kind of inquiry.
“Well, we had a drink, then another drink, and then we had another drink, and then we sat down and had a few drinks more. And then I was drunk and she still seemed to be sober and she went home and I went home and that was it. But the next day she said she’d had a great time and that we should do it again,” Irvine replied, trying hard to force a smile out of his face. He could feel the dried blood around the bridge of his nose crack a little; he twitched in discomfort and continued,
“But I’m not sure I’m capable of keeping up with her to be honest. Good heavens, I’ve just thought, sir, is there any chance Anna Elliot could have changed her name to Jean, to Jean - what’s Jean Stone’s maiden name?”
“To be honest we don’t know, but definitely a line worth checking, well worth checking, Jimmy. That would make a lot of sense.”
“Well, maybe some professional interfacing, as our computer experts would put it, will give you a chance for some less stressful and more sociable evenings. So why don’t you go and see her and she if she could re-examine Neil Burton: get her to go through all the autopsy notes and find out if there is any way, any way at all, that Burton’s injuries could have been caused byŠ well, I don’t know really. How would it be possible to kill someone but do it in such a way that you could persuade a professional, like herself for instance, that a dog was responsible?”
“I see what you mean. It sounds like one for Sherlock Holmes, doesn’t it, sir?”
“What?” Kennedy said as his phone rang and he picked up the receiver, then, “ann rea. Am I glad to hear from you. Hang on, could you excuse me for just a second?” He pressed the mute button and addressed Irvine, “Okay Jimmy, if you could go and see the Doctor, I’m off to Climping shortly but I’ll ring in later for an update.”
Irvine nodded and left the office.
“Listen,” Kennedy said to ann rea, “you’ll never guess what has just happened up her?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Kennedy was correct. ann rea would not have, even in a month of Sundays, guessed the developments which had taken place up in Camden Town.
The Detective Inspector wasn’t used to being surprised on his own cases. Surprised? Shocked would be more apt. Yes, occasionally some one or something would throw you a curve, but they were mostly curves whose arcs you could contain and the bearing was rarely as much a shock as a refreshing change of direction.
But this, ann rea’s landlord’s daughter being involved in a double murder, this was slightly surreal. Not to mention the fact that ann rea was chasing up a few leads as to the current whereabouts of Anna Elliot, leads which could, and hopefully would, prove invaluable to Kennedy’s case. However, if he was ever to get any closer to solving this case, then he was surely in for another bombshell. In the meantime he was composing himself for his meeting with ann rea and the frail Daniel Elliot.
Kennedy caught the 17.22 train from Victoria, arriving in Worthing at 18.40. ann rea was at the shabby station to meet him. The Ulsterman and his lover then cabbed it the seven miles to Climping, where she had booked him a room at the Black Horse, right next door to Daniel Elliot.
The journey from station to pub was quiet, neither wishing to share their news with the talkative taxi driver, “the Rolling Stones stayed there you know, Climping - at the Bailiffscourt Hotel.”
“Really?” ann rea replied indifferently, and before the driver had a chance to expand she said, “Kennedy, do you know when you’re going to go back?”
“Yes. I’m catching the six fifty-four, it gets me into Victoria at eight sixteen, means I’ll be back in North Bridge House at eight forty-five,” Kennedy replied, uneasily in the back seat. He wasn’t sure whether or not to hold ann rea’s hand.
“Remember to book your cab tonight, you’ll not be able to get one easily at that time of the morning,” ann rea suggested. She stroked his temple a few times as they travelled the remainder of their journey in silence. The cabbie, not the local expert he claimed to be, took a few wrong turns before pulling up outside the Black Horse.
“Let’s have a bite before we go over and see Daniel,” ann rea said as the friendly (very friendly) landlady showed Kennedy to his small but clean room.
“So this is a bit of a case, isn’t it?” Kennedy said as he tucked into his cod, peas and chips, passable except for the disappointing soggy fish, washed down with a glass of the house white wine (excellent).
“God, I can’t believe it, I really can’t. I mean you don’t really believe that Daniel’s daughter is involved in the murder of these two men?”
“Well, it kinda looks that way, I suppose,” Kennedy replied.
“But I thought you had a confession for the estate agent’s murder. And this other guy, wasn’t he mauled by a dog?”
“Yes, but here’s the thing,” Kennedy replied between bites, “Hugh Anderson, the guy who beat up John B. Stone, claimed he was paid by a woman, dressed all in black, black wig, long black coat and black lipstick, to do it. He further claims that he left Stone alive. Burton’s death, the autopsy revealed, was caused by a savage attack from a dog. Now, if we are to believe that Anna Elliot did this in revenge for the rape then it’s possible she hired a thug to beat up Stone; perhaps she hired another one with a dog for Burton. Irvine is checking it with Dr Forsythe to see if there is any way Burton’s death could have been caused by someone trying to make the death appear to be a mauling.”
Kennedy washed down the last of his food with the remainder of the wine.
“So,” he continued as he wiped his mouth and chin with his paper napkin, “what progress have you been making in tracking Anna down?”
“Good, really. I mean I haven’t found her yet but a mate at the Camden News Journal knew Anna’s best friend at the time of the rape. There wasn’t too much information on the incident except for, surprisingly, or so they all thought at the time, she wasn’t bruised or marked or anything, and none of her clothes were torn,” said ann rea.
“So what are they all saying? She wasn’t raped, just because she wasn’t beaten up?” Kennedy replied in disbelief.
“No. No, not at all. I mean, I think not at all. I think that was offered as some kind of explanation as to why no charges were ever brought: too hard a case to prove, too traumatic for Anna to have to go through a court case with four people swearing that she
asked for it, she wanted it. But for the short time she remained in London after the incident she was a changed person. Withdrawn, very quiet, wouldn’t go out and mix with her friends any more. Then she moved to Wolverhampton to continue her education.”
Kennedy thought for a moment. Here he was sitting with ann rea, the woman of his dreams, and certainly since her absence very much present in his dreams, and all they were talking was business. He could hardly believe it.
“Look, we’d better go over and see Daniel, I told him you were coming down to see me. I also told him that you are going to help me find Anna. I did not tell him about your suspicions. Honestly Christy, it could be the final straw. He’s barely got the will to live as it is.” ann rea checked her watch. “It’s nearly eight o’clock, we’ll stay with him till about nine, he usually goes to bed about then. Then you and I can go for a walk along the beach, it’s only five minutes away, and by the look of your furrowed brow a bit of a distraction just might be exactly what the doctor ordered. I’ll go and buy Daniel his nightly pint and we’ll be off.”
Christy Kennedy and Daniel Elliot had never met before, although Kennedy had heard a lot about Daniel from ann rea. Kennedy was shocked at how fragile the once-proud Irish Guard looked. His eyes were soulless and disinterested. Kennedy wasn’t even sure he had either energy or enthusiasm, or cared enough to help track down his own daughter.
Daniel, did however, show some enthusiasm for his nightly pint and after his first, generous gulp he apologised to Kennedy. “I’ve heard so much about you,” he said, “I’m sorry not to be in better health to greet you.”
