by Harry Nankin
MURDERS
WITHOUT MOTIVE
Author
HARRY NANKIN
Jack the Hat had an office in the police museum, it took him to the times of the old detectives.
A well known family are murdered one by one without any apparent motive until there is only one remaining. The police are put under pressure to solve the cases. Jack the Hat a retired detective from New Scotland Yard is brought in. A mystery to the very end
The events, places and characters in this book are fictitious and it is not intended the story should bear any resemblance to reality in the police service or any incident or person living or dead or place. If so this is coincidental
All Books are Copyright
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrievable system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission of the copyright owner
PART ONE
STALKED BY THE ANGEL OF DEATH
Georgina Allen and Joey Moore, young people in their early thirties. They both worked night duty at the local Sansbury super store. They were out walking on this fine August morning. In the mid-summer of their lives, they had no thoughts of death on their minds, far from it.
“We ought to try and keep fit” she had said.
Joey on the other hand had another motive on his mind when he agreed to forgo his round of golf that morning.
He was a good player but had been refused membership at the posh members only Tarporley Golf Club.
He needed sponsors, but as he was only shelf filler, he could find none.
Unlike the store manager Mr Parkinson, who had been a member for years.
Joey always suspected that his boss had blackballed him but could never prove it. Peeved, that Joey had beaten him hands down at a charity event.
As a consolation prize Joey played his golf at the nearby council owned municipal golf course. There were obstacles, yobs racing about on three wheeler motor cycles, others on motor cross machines not to mention the catapult shooters and car scratchers in the car park.
On the last day of her life Emily Crampton, a daughter of the local wealthy Crampton family who had owned the vast rural estate around the River Dee since time immemorial.
She had no necessity to work so was of the old type of country spinster with ample time on her hands. Daddy and his ancestors before him had provided for her every need and desire. She was taking her regular walk around the family estate with its many square miles of lands, forests and numerous farms. All rented to tenants.
Her regular route was through the woods and then along the river bank. It was so warm today she decided to stop and take a swim as she had done from time to time for years.
Georgina and Joe meanwhile had stopped on the river bank farther along the towpath.
Joe took her into his arms, after a passionate kiss he then took her completely by surprise, by dropping onto one knee.
Once down, he closed his eyes and took the plunge.
He was about to utter the most important words of his life.
Taking courage, he said,
“Darling Georgina, will you please do me the honour of becoming my wife?”
With eyes closed although only an instant in time, he awaited her reply with bated breath, it seemed an eternity.
Emily Crampton meanwhile lay in the cool rippling water.
How relaxing it all was after the recent months when she had lost so many members of her family and, in such tragic circumstances.”
She lay with eyes closed now oblivious to the world around her.
In the last moment of the last day of her life here on earth she had no suspicions the angel of death was so near at hand. Neither did she hear the silent foot steps approaching ever nearer.
Without warning as she lapsed into the rhapsody of relaxation she was grabbed by the throat.
There was suddenly a deafening scream, prolonged, and then it stopped.
Joe’s instantaneous thought was “Christ I am not that bad to cause such a scream”.
He opened his eyes to see the love of his life faced towards the river, she turned, came back to reality and said
“Yes Joe, yes Joe of course I will. But what the hell was that?
Emily thrashed the water and struggled but all her efforts were in vain when in addition to the hand around her throat a heavy river stone was thrust into her face.
She instantly went limp, the grip was released, her body lay in the water momentarily, it then began to float away.
Her lifeless body turning from being positioned on its back to that of lying face down in the rippling water of the now fast flowing river.
The traces of blood on the water, dispersing into nothingness.
Georgina’s question was answered when the body of a young woman, dressed only in her panties went floating by, obviously dead.
Recovering from being momentarily stunned, they rifled their pockets scrambling to find a mobile phone.
Joe looked about and could he see no-one else around who might help.
Georgina found success, opening the phone she pressed the emergency number already keyed in. A reply was instantaneous. “Emergency which service do you require, police, fire ambulance.
“Police, we need the police”.
“Your name, address, telephone number and from where you are calling, please?” said the female operator.
“My name is Georgina from Sansbury stores, I can’t find my bloody mobile number, Christ, we need the police there has just been a murder”.
Instantaneously, came another voice”.
“Police, your name, telephone number and address please?”
“My name is Georgina, I can’t remember my telephone number, and my address is Church Street, Wenton, near Tarporley. You can find me any time at night at Sansbury super store”.
“Is is this life or death?” asked the police operator
“Its bloody murder” Georgina replied.
Just at the moment Inspector Bill Bailey, officer in charge of the control room that day and seated next to Blanch Knight pressed the loud speaker button.
“I beg you pardon madam” said Blanche the police controller.
Before Georgina could reply a male voice interceded.
“Hello caller this is Inspector Bailey, officer in charge of the police control room. Officers are on their way to assist you. Please remain calm. Help with soon be with you.”
He leaned over to Blanche and whispered, “Get BT on the other line, get them to see if they can trace this call, send all available units to the scene, a red call”.
“We, that is my boyfriend, no, my future husband and myself have just heard a scream and the body of a lady has just floated passed on down the river towards Chester Inspector”.
I see” replied Bailey, “officers will soon be with you stay calm”.
“Where are you exactly?”
“We are along side the river Dee about half a mile lower down from Crampton Hall”.
“I see” said Bailey, “yes, I know the area”.
With that Joey came on the line, “We are not far up from Stanton River Bridge that is the nearest way”.
“Thank you” replied Bailey, “now please remain where you are, leave the telephone line open Officers are on their way”.
He leaned over and asked “Is the force helicopter live?”
“Yes” called Eric the other civilian on duty in the information room. Adding, “I have called them already skipper, they are just airborne now, I take it they are looking for a body in the river?”
“No, a high sweep around the area please. The bloody body is dead; we need
to catch the bastard that put it there, all eyes for anyone in the area please”
“I see” called Eric.
Coming back Bailey called, “Get the river patrol at Chester to look for the body it should take over an hour to reach the weir, they normally do”.
“I will contact Chester and get the cavalry down there”. he said.
“Hello Chester police, Sergeant Striker, station officer”.
“Hello Sergeant Striker, this is Inspector Bailey Communications Room, there is a report of a drowning, no, a murder, on the river Dee between Crampton Hall and Stanton Bridge. Mobile officers and helicopter en route. Please inform divisional CID, scenes of crime and forensics. I will inform the Chief Super.
He replaced the telephone without waiting for a response. He knew Striker realised what he wanted done and all could be left in the safe the hands of Striker.
“Switchboard, Mary speaking, can I help?”
“Mary, Inspector Bailey communications room here, give me the Chief Super, a red call”
“Jinton speaking who is this?”
“It is Inspector Bailey, information room, Sir, there is a report of a possible murder on the river Dee, near Crampton Hall, it may well be another Sir”
“Jesus not another, what this time?” said Jinton.
“A young couple have just called it in. I don’t have all the details as yet but it seems they heard a scream and saw a body floating by. Officers are on their way, the chopper is up, and CID officers are being briefed as I speak. The river patrol has been alerted to check for the body. I will update you as soon as I know anything further”.
“Thank you Inspector, I will update the Chief immediately, no doubt we will visit the scene”.
Tabo Jinton, the Chief Superintendent of Chester police immediately updated the Chief Constable. As anticipated she had said she would pick him up and visit the scene forthwith.
He recalled her words
“Jesus, let us hope it is not yet another of the Crampton family, that is, if there are any left to murder?”
He also recalled how she had said. “No bloody proforma. Get the witnesses into the nick and interviewed properly. After that last charade with the headless Reverends”.
The scene had been visited, the various departments carried out their respective tasks.
Photographs taken, video made, samples seized.
The force helicopter crews reported only that a man had been seen in woodland adjacent to the Hall, he had walked into the grounds. Although carrying a firearm he appeared to be the estate game keeper, this would be checked out immediately by officers on the ground.
Detective Inspector Richard Pearson and Detective Sergeant Jonathon Gibson had been allocated to deal with the case; he was already dealing with the others.
It was early evening that day when officers of the Chester river patrol had recovered the dead body of a young female dressed only in her pants. She bore serious injuries to her face. A large flat blue mark was already beginning to show at the front of her neck as the hallmarks of death began to set in.
The body recovered, it was transported to Chester City hospital and handed into the care of the Mortuary attendant known to police officers and hospital staff alike as, Fred the Dead.
The next stage would be in the hands of Professor Hallam the area Home Office Pathologist.
It now only remained for the police to commence enquiries.
“Well now Mr Jinton and Inspector Pearson. I think we ought to visit Crampton Hall, in view of the other cases I mean.” The Chief announced obviously intending to go herself.
“I agree Ma`am” replied Jinton.
Pearson looked at Gibson and winked, old man Crampton had been the Lord Lieutenant of the county at the time of his death. He and the family had Royal connections not only in his role as Her Majesty’s direct representative in the county, but rumour had it he was close to members of Royal families, both at home and abroad.
The two police cars arrived at the entrance to Crampton Hall, when the telephone allocated to Pearson rang. He answered, it was Inspector Bailey.
“Is that you Pearson?”
“Bill Bailey here at information room, we just had a missing person report from Crampton Hall, Jessop, the Butler reporting Miss Emily Crampton is missing”.
“Thank you Bill, we are actually driving up to the Hall front door, so I will update the Chief and Jinton, thanks Bill”
The call ended as the two police cars came to a stand still.
Once alighted, Pearson approached both the Chiefs and updated them, simultaneously the main door at the front entrance of the Hall opened. A man dressed in a dark morning suit stood waiting”.
“Are you the police?” asked the man.
“We certainly are, I am Joanne Watkiss, the Chief Constable, and this is Chief Superintendent Jinton, head of the Chester Division. These officers are Detective Inspector Bailey and Detective Sergeant Gibson.
“You are, Sir?” asked Jinton
“I, gentlemen, am Jessop the Butler. I have been here for forty years. The Colonels` batman, and then later the Butler. Boy and man so to speak”
He was clearly a Jessop and a butler.
A man in his late sixties, tall, well built but not of portly proportions. He sported a clipped head of hair and an accompanying handlebar moustache. Dressed in a morning suit, he fitted the description of a Butler as all would conceive a butler would look like.
His manner, stature and speech confirmed the first impression of any visitor.
“You are reporting the disappearance of Miss Emily Crampton, I believe?” said Pearson
“That is correct, she went walking this morning as she does daily but has not returned. We are all very concerned”.
“May we please come in” said the Chief.
“You may indeed”
They walked forward and into the large high hall-way.
The police, though had all been inside there before, too often in fact in recent weeks.
A high hall, with a large wide oak staircase lined with oil paintings of previous family members. Most of the males were dressed in military uniform. The pride of place went to one of the late Colonel in company with Her Majesty the Queen, clearly taken inside Buckingham Palace. There was another obviously a leader but of Arabic appearance.
Gibson being of lowly rank stepped out of protocol by asking. “Who is the person with the Colonel there in that oil painting?”
Jessop looked him up and down then replied.
“That Sir is no less a man than The Sultan of Daram.”
Gibson had never heard of the Sultan of Daram said nothing further. Obviously he was a man of some distinguished rank and country.
The party would soon come to learn of the relevance of the Sultan of Daram and of what powers he could command. To quote police jargon, “Pull”
“Do you have a photograph of the missing person, Miss Emily?”
“I have one here”
Jessop produced a photograph. The lady featured appeared to be in her early thirties, slim build but small, very beautiful, with bright ginger hair, blue eyes and an adorable smile.
This caused Pearson to look up at the Colonel also with similar hair, as did persons in several other photographs around the hall way.
They proceeded into a room; it was, from the vast numbers of books, a library.
There were other family photographs adorned within, many of which the persons had bright ginger hair. There was however another large portrait upon the wall of the Colonel and a lady.
Jessop seeing Pearson gazing at the portrait said, “That Mr Pearson is the Colonel with the mistress Henrietta. A wonderful couple, yes indeed they are sadly missed as are the others. A nice family let us hope you find Miss Emily safe and well.
“There was silence from the visitors then Gibson jumped in to announce, “I regret Sir that a body has been recovered from the river Dee some hours ago. We suspect that this body is that of Miss Emily Crampton�
�.
“Oh Lord no, not another murder surely Heaven forbid”.
Jessop obviously taken aback flopped back into a chair.
Most unlike a Butler thought Gibson.
Pearson then spoke. “We will make further enquiries tomorrow; post-mortem etc and we will update you then. Until then sir, I have to tell you that in view of the previous deaths and the circumstances of this death as we are of to date. Two uniformed police officers will be stationed within the house overnight to preserve the scene”.
“Good heavens” said Jessop. “I must inform the other staff and of course Master Wilson Crampton”.
“Master Wilson Crampton?” asked Joanne Watkiss.
“Yes indeed young Master Wilson is now the only surviving member of this great family. The Estate will now pass to him and him alone”, said Jessop, in a very down hearted way.
“Where is this young Master, Jessop?” asked Jinton.
“Oh” replied Jessop. “He is far away in Daram; being the ward of the Sultan there. Master Wilson is being privately educated. He has a private tutor employed by the Sultan to educate Wilson with the Royal children. Craig Richards. His father is or was a police officer. A detective at New Scotland Yard”, I doubt you would know him”.
Chief Watkiss and Super Jinton looked at each but made no reply.
PART TWO
THE ART OF POLITICAL PRESSURE
The following morning, 11.30am there was a knock on the door of Joanne Watkiss, Chief Constable.
“Come in” she called
The door opened it was Mildred Renton her Secretary. “Chief Superintendent Jinton is here Ma`am, with another officer”.
“Admit them” she said with a smile.
Not a Freemason being a woman, she was however now a member of a ladies group which emulated the male secret society. The phrase was used in their lodge meetings as with the men, she thought she might try it out.
Jinton walked in smiling, he was a Freemason and knew the phrase but said nothing.