The Atlas Murders

by John Molloy

  US English Edition first published in 2013.

  Published by The Electronic Book Company

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  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This ebook contains detailed research material, combined with the author's own subjective opinions, which are open to debate. Any offence caused to persons either living or dead is purely unintentional. Factual references may include or present the author's own interpretation, based on research and study.

  Copyright 2012 - 2013 by John Molloy

  All Rights Reserved.

  CONTENTS:

  Introduction

  Part One: London Calling

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Part Two: Ships in the Night

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Part Three: No Pleasure Cruise

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Introduction

  Detective Inspector Henry Carter’s life changes forever when his beloved niece is brutally murdered in a small town in England.

  The police investigation stalls until an inspired hunch makes him realize he’s looking in the wrong place entirely.

  Helped by Scotland Yard and his liberated lover, Vera, he prepares for one of the most audacious and unusual assignments ever undertaken by a serving officer. The manhunt spans four continents as the psychopath continues to murder at will. Despite a major failing of justice, Henry is determined to make the killer pay for his crimes.

  In his continuing quest he meets the beautiful Kerstin. Their relationship blossoms, opening up lost chapters in both their lives. Henry is stunned by a surprising revelation from a long past encounter.

  Please note: The Atlas Murders contains strong language and sexual content.

  .

  Part One

  London Calling

  Chapter One

  June 1958: Runcorn, Northern England.

  Katherine Marlow switched on the bedside lamp. It must have been the fifth time in the past half hour. She turned to her husband Denis, giving him a little nudge, “its two o’clock and Shirley hasn’t come home yet, the dance was over at one o’clock. We should have gone and collected her.”

  “You know how disappointed she was last time I collected her, and tonight she said that young Trevor Rossitor was going to be walking her home. Maybe they've just delayed a bit.”

  “Denis, would you please remember, your daughter has only just turned sixteen!”

  She jumped out of bed, eased her feet into her slippers and put on her dressing gown.

  “I’m going to go and see if she’s outside.”

  Katherine went downstairs and called in a low voice, "Shirley.” She thought she may have brought her boy into the front parlor, so she didn’t want to be a spoilsport and walk in on them unannounced. She opened the door to the room and just peeped inside knowing full well there was no one there. She unlocked the front door and stepped out into the warm summer night, a three-quarter moon and street lighting gave her a good view to the end of the street. There wasn't a sound to be heard - it was so mutedly quiet. She stood looking up and down pulling her dressing gown closer round her anxiety that made her shiver even though the night was warm. She heard footsteps along the lower end of the road, and above the very still night sounds she was able to discern two pairs of footsteps. She heard voices and a girl's laughter. Oh please God, that’s her with young Trevor. Her heart sank as the noises faded and the young couple walked on past the lower end of the street. She stood and listened, hearing little sounds coming over the rooftops, a dog howled some distance away; it was a lonely eerie cry. She walked to the gate of her little front garden. What would the neighbors think if they saw her outside in her dressing gown at this hour? Standing at the low gate she felt a strangeness envelop her whole body. She didn't realize she was gripping the top of the gate so tight her knuckles were showing white. Her mind went blank and she seemed to leave her body and travel to a dark and lonely place devoid of all joy and laughter, where weeping sorrow swept over her like a dark wave.

  "Katherine come inside you'll get cold."

  Denis took her by the hand and walked her back into the house. "Katherine what's wrong with you. You look like you've seen a ghost. Sit down and I'll make you a cup of tea."

  Her hands began to tremble. "I feel so terrible."

  "Why were you standing outside so long, it’s not that warm you know?"

  Looking at the clock it was ten minutes to three.

  "My goodness, was I outside that long?"

  Denis handed her a cup of tea. "Now drink that and it'll warm you up." Clutching his own cup he walked out to the hallway. "I'm going to phone Henry, he'll know what to do."

  "Oh Denis, it’s so late, he must be tucked up in bed fast asleep."

  "He won’t mind especially, when it’s Shirley, she's as much a daughter to him as she is to us."

  The phone rang for nearly a minute before a sleepy voice said, "Henry Carter speaking."

  "Henry, I apologize for ringing you at this hour. It’s Denis. We’re so worried. Shirley hasn't come home from the dance, you know that's not like her, here, speak to Katherine."

  "I'm so sorry to wake you at this ungodly hour, but Henry, what shall we do? We were going to call the police."

  Henry spoke with apprehension. "Go back to bed and try and get some rest. I'll go to the station. I'm on duty in a few hours anyway; just wait until I come round. It'll be daylight soon and we'll start to search immediately." He hung up and Katherine held the phone against her breast as if it gave her the only hope of finding her daughter.

  "Denis, I'm going to ring Trevor's parents’. Maybe she stayed there for some unknown reason."

  "I cannot see her staying there without phoning to tell us."

  He opened the little phone book and written in Shirley's hand was Trevor's number.

  "I'll speak to them."

  Taking the phone he nervously dialed. It rang and rang.

  "They're sound sleepers, they're not answering."

  Just as he was about to hang up, he heard a faint voice. "Hello."

 
He almost shouted into the phone. "Hello Mrs. Rossitor. I'm terribly sorry to wake you at this hour; this is Shirley Marlow's dad."

  "Yes, I know Shirley."

  "We're terribly worried. She hasn't come home after the dance and we were just wondering if Trevor might have been in her company."

  "Trevor has been in bed for the last two days, he's got bronchitis. He has a weak chest. I'm sorry I can’t be of more help mister, er."

  "Denis Marlow."

  "Sorry, Denis I'd forgotten your Christian name."

  In the background he could hear a voice. "Who is it darling?"

  "Thank you Mrs. Rossitor. I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep."

  "And I’m sorry I couldn't be of more help."

  He put the phone onto its cradle and turned to Katherine. Pulling her to him, he held her tightly. He buried his face in her silky blonde hair and felt her shiver like a frightened kitten. He never knew what fear was until now.

  Denis made more tea and they sat and stared into their cups.

  Several minutes’ later Katherine stood up. "I'll go dress and tidy myself up."

  Denis moved around the kitchen, his hands automatically going through the motions of shifting cups and crockery from the table. Henry, a frequent visitor to his sister's house, arrived through the back door into the kitchen. Denis was pottering around with some dishes at the sink when he turned to face Henry. Goodness me, Denis thought to himself, he looks ghastly. Then he instinctively knew the worst.

  Henry's voice wavered as he spoke.

  "Denis, where is she?"

  At that moment Katherine appeared at the door, as pale as the white robe she wore.

  "Did you find her?"

  Henry caught her in his arms and seated her as she fainted. He motioned to Denis to sit beside her. He then knelt down holding her hands in his. He stared into her unbelieving green eyes. "We've found Shirley. I’m so sorry, she's dead." Katherine slumped into Henry's arms.

  "Call a doctor Denis."

  Chapter Two

  The family got through the next five days swimming back and forth from cruel reality to relative comfort from the pills prescribed by the doctor. It was fear and trepidation and a nagging sense of outrage that accompanied Henry as he went back to his heart-rending duty to find and convict this monster.

  The station was a hive of activity as Henry arrived at his desk. A sergeant handed him the mug shots of four known sex offenders. He glanced at them, all familiar faces.

  "I want these four brought in for questioning as soon as possible."

  He tore open a large brown manila envelope containing the results of the post mortem. The photograph was plainly of Shirley. She was clearly identifiable in spite of the effects of strangulation and bruising from a blunt instrument or fist. There was swelling and cyanosis; her tongue was protruding between her teeth. In death she had stared at the camera with the same degree of incredulity and horror as she did at the face of her cruel cold killer. She had been sexually assaulted and violently raped; her clothes had been ripped from her young body. The bruising on her arms and legs showed she had put up a brave struggle. Henry noticed that a ring she wore on her left hand was missing. This was a present he had bought for her on her sixteenth birthday. A search of the scene had failed to recover it, so it was assumed the killer had taken it. Henry felt sick and horrified at such barbarity. Looking at the photographs of his beloved niece, he realized that the killer had also violated her beautiful memory. He pushed the file back into its folder and locked it away in his drawer. No one was to look at his precious girl as she appeared naked and vulnerable before the camera.

  Sergeant Tim Bulliard entered his office.

  “Henry, we've got our first suspect outside in the interview room, would you like to let Inspector Moore interview him, or do you want to sit in on it with him?"

  "I'll speak to Edward, which of them have you brought in?"

  "Sam Gaines."

  "Where did you pick him up?"

  "He was picked up at an address in Liverpool. He maintains he was staying there the last four days."

  "He normally lives in his parent’s house only two hundred yards from where Shirley was found.”

  “Were they questioned about his whereabouts?"

  "I was at the house to arrest him. Both his parents were there and they knew what we wanted to question him about. His mother actually told me she thought it terrible that the young girl’s body was found so close to her house. She said she was relieved that her son wasn’t in town at the time of the murder.”

  "Right Tim, I'll speak to Edward."

  Edward Moore was the senior officer at the station. He was in his late fifties and looking forward to an early retirement. Serious crime was rare in the small town of Runcorn, situated on the banks of the Manchester Ship Canal, a short bus ride from Liverpool. With a population of approximately twenty thousand, most of the local criminals were known to the small police force and the closely knit community. The Gaines family had a reputation for petty criminality going back a number of years. The father, Joey was a fence for stolen property but did most of his business in Liverpool and seldom did anything out of the way locally. His eldest son, Thomas was in prison, serving time for burglary, along with a Liverpool gang who were caught red handed in a bonded store relieving its owners of hundreds of thousands of cigarettes. Sam, who was waiting to be questioned in the interview room, was released from prison five months earlier having been convicted for sexual assault. If it wasn’t for a passer-by who rescued the unfortunate sixteen year old victim, his prison term would certainly have been much longer. That particular case had been Henry's first serious investigation. He conducted and presented his evidence meticulously, getting Sam five years. Henry was convinced he was also responsible for the violent rape of another sixteen year old. But the victim's family, who intended to immigrate to Australia, became afraid that any adverse publicity might affect their application for free passage to Sydney, so they adopted an indifferent attitude to their daughter's plight. She refused to testify on the grounds that because the attack happened in a dimly lit area, she wasn't sure of her attacker's identity. Henry bore a deep-rooted dislike, bordering on hatred for Sam Gaines, who he regarded as arrogant, worthless scum.

  Inspector Moore was leafing through some papers on his desk when Henry walked into his office.

  "Sit down Henry. I was just going over the case files of Sam Gaines before I question him, but you know his track record better than anyone."

  "I'd like to sit in on the interview with you Edward."

  "Do you think it wise Henry? It could be very traumatic for you so soon after such this tragedy, but if you feel you can handle the hurt, I'll go along with you."

  "I'll just act as observer and take notes."

  "Right Henry. I have a list of questions here. Look at them and see if you want to add anything."

  Henry read the set questions.

  "Yes they look ok. We’ll see as we go along if there's anything we might add. He not the most co-operative of people and can also be downright abusive."

  The interview room was small, bare and lit by a single light bulb. It contained three chairs and a table. When they entered the smoke-filled room, Gaines was seated at the table a cigarette between his lips. He didn't lift his head - he seemed to be gazing at something in the half full ashtray.

  Edward sat at the table opposite Gaines. Henry stood with his back to the wall almost facing Edward but to the side of Gaines.

  Without looking up at Edward, he stubbed out his cigarette. Edward called out the time and date and wrote it on the top of a blank sheet of A4 paper.

  "Now Gaines, where were you last Saturday night from the hour of nine o’clock until eight o’clock the next morning?"

  "That the night the young tart got it?" leered, the suspect.

  He looked around and up to where Henry was standing; he had a lecherous grin on his pocked marked face and a few days of black stubble lent an evil look to
his unpleasant features.

  Henry could feel bile rising in his throat but showed no emotion.

  "I was with my beloved girl in Liverpool, she's a real sex machine."

  "Just answer the questions. What is the name and address of this girl?"

  "I've already given that to one of yer buddies. No wonder ye can’t solve crime when ye can’t even co-operate between yourselves. Tis I should be in yer job, I'd find the lucky bloke that screwed that delicious bit of fluff."

  "Just answer the questions. Where did you spend the night?"

  "Well, at about nine o’clock I screwed her. You could hear squealing in the next street. Then we went out for a well-deserved drink - that screwing takes a bit out of yer."

  "What pubs did you go to?”

  "The Stag's Head. Ever been there? Plenty of spare fluff, you'd like it. Especially Carter there, he might even get his end away."

  "Did you meet or speak to anyone in that pub who can vouch for you being there?"

  "Yeah, Stamps Lowry, he's me girl’s brother, and a few of his pals. Carter knows most of them. He tried to send them down but they were just too smart for him."

  "Just answer the questions." Edward's face was flushed and a vein on his right temple pulsed a purple glow.

  "Why aren’t I not doing good? I can’t tell you who screwed the little tart, but the fancy prick teasers get what they deserve."

  Henry leaped across the room and grabbed Gaines around the throat. He knocked him to the ground and pressing his knee into his chest, he began to tighten his hands around his sinewy neck.

  "Stop, Stop, Henry, Stop!"

  Edward fell over the struggling pair; his seventeen stone weight knocking Henry off his victim. Henry heard the loud gasps as Edward rolled over striking his head on the table leg. Edward lay on his back, his purple lips framing a desperate gasp as his upper dentures were gagging in his throat. Henry pulled the dentures from his mouth and lifted his head.

  "Edward, Edward!”

  There was no recognition in the protruding eyes. Henry laid his head back and an exhalation of breath came from the dark orifice of a face; congealing blood was slowly coloring his cheeks from bright red to dark blue. Henry jumped up and ran from the room to the front desk. He shouted at the duty constable who was attending to a middle-aged woman's complaint about some youths playing ball outside her home.