by John Molloy
"Quick Reg, call an ambulance."
Edward Moore was laid to rest in the little cemetery of his home town where he had hoped to retire. He had dreamed about fishing and the happy days of his youth. But as the mist rolled in off the tranquil waters of Cardigan Bay, his return to the little Welsh coastal town of Aberaeron was to be his final journey.
Chapter Three
The days and weeks that followed seemed to blur and blot like spilt ink in Henry's brain. All the suspects were brought in and questioned and all had cast iron alibis. Sam Gaines lodged a formal complaint against Henry.
Henry knew his habits and times of coming and going to a virtual ‘T’. After leaving the pub, Gaines would go for a fish and chip supper then make his way across the waste ground near the new building site where Shirley's body had been found, and through a narrow dark alleyway to the street where he lived. This is where Henry confronted him. He grabbed his shirt just under his chin shoving him into a small recess in the old building.
Gaines started babbling. "I'll report you if you touch me I'm warning you Carter."
His fish and chip supper fell to the ground between them. Henry put his face close into his quarry's head, the stale smell of beer and body odor nearly made him gag. "I'll tell you this Gaines, once and only once; if you don’t go to the station tomorrow and retract the complaint against me I'm going to file charges against you for assault against Detective Inspector Moore, causing his death. With your record you'll get fifteen years."
"But! but! I didn't touch him, he fell himself when you tried to choke me."
"You try telling that to a jury when I am the only witness who saw you. I'll have no bother getting you sent down."
"That's against the law, I'm innocent."
"What would you know about the law you thieving rapist scum? Where the law doesn't fit justice reaps revenge." Henry turned his strong lean frame and left the sniveling man down on his knees groveling for his spilled supper.
The case against Henry was formally dropped next morning, but a new twist to his career emerged when Edward Moore's replacement arrived from Scotland Yard, London. Stanley Knight was the new Chief Inspector. A youthful looking man in his late forties with a big reputation.
His first task was to meet Henry. He had been briefed on the case of Shirley's death, and Henry's reaction while following up the investigation. As Henry entered his office, the chief inspector stood up from his desk and looking into Henry’s piercing blue eyes, they shook hands.
"I'm very sorry to hear about your sad loss. I'm sure you’ve known of my posting for some time, I’m the new replacement for Edward."
“Yes Sir, we were expecting you, but I must say I thought you'd be much older.”
"Well Henry, I suppose this new posting will add its quota of gray hairs. My first task is to solve the case of your niece. I've already gone over all the information to date and it looks like it could have been someone from outside the area. And from my briefing, whoever it was they'll surely strike again. Our man in London, who is our most senior authority on this type of crime, believes we are dealing with a psychopath. There's an urgency coming from the top brass to get this fellow before he strikes again. We've searched the records going back ten years and didn't come up with anything resembling this pattern, so it may be a first off, which would suggest a youngish fellow with some kind of abnormal sexual behavior."
"Sir, we've checked all the known sex offenders within a fifty mile radius and have come up with nothing substantial, or at least nothing to warrant an arrest or serious suspicion. I've even gone so far as to check if there were any commercial travelers or truck drivers staying over in any of the local guest houses that night, and came up with nothing I could go with."
"I'm afraid Henry, we need a break and sooner than later. We’ll make another appeal to the public and see if anyone can remember anything. Surely there’s someone out there knows or suspects someone and can give us a lead."
Stanley leaned over and handed Henry an envelope with his name typed on it. "You probably know what this is; I've been given the job of breaking the news to you, but at the end of the day, this break might be just what you need after all the trauma. When you're this close to a serious crime, sometimes things can become a bit distorted. Your altercation with this man Gaines, even though no one could blame you, especially when dealing with scum like that, was not the deciding factor in this six months compassionate leave. It’s with full pay I might add. It is also the established rules that men in the force cannot take an active part in investigating crimes involving their own families or close relatives."
Henry had been expecting to be taken off the case, but could not believe he was being given six months compassionate leave. Brushing his blonde hair from his face with his hand, he replied, "will you keep me up to date on any developments and if possible let me assist you in anything where I might be of help?"
"Henry, you will be first to know when the slightest break comes, and hopefully that will be sooner rather than later. In the short term would you consider a vacation, maybe even with your sister and her husband, do you think it might help? You know that if there’s anything I or any of your colleagues here can do to help, we'll be only too glad to do."
Henry stood up to leave he put the envelope into his pocket and shook hands again with the new chief. "I'll call in from time to time and see how things are progressing. I might see if Katherine and Denis would like to join me on a short break to the countryside. I'm going to have to find some way of occupying my time. Maybe I'll catch up on a bit of fishing."
There was no persuading Katherine to go on with him on a break. She spent part of everyday at Shirley's grave, and Denis who had gone back to his job, would often have to call to the cemetery on his way home from work to collect her. Henry began to spend more time with her when Denis was away at work. They’d often go to a café down near the canal for morning coffee. Here, he'd distract her by reading the feature stories from the daily papers. They'd sit by the canal and watch the ships sail up to Manchester with their cargoes from faraway lands. "I wonder what country she has come from and what kind of cargo is she carrying?" he asked Katherine as a big Harrison Line ship sailed up the murky canal. She’d remain silent and he’d answer for her.
"Probably she has come all the way from India or Pakistan with a cargo of jute for our clothes industry."
Suddenly, they were startled by the resonant sound of a ship's horn. Both turned to look up the canal and steaming down to the lock was a big ship outward bound to the Far East. She was resplendent with her gleaming painted sides and her blue funnel. They watched and waved to her crew as she slowly made her way down to enter the locks to take her out onto the River Mersey like some huge animal that would soon be free to sail the vast oceans of the world.
"It must be a great life for a young man to sail to the four corners of the world and see and experience life on all the mighty continents. It’s a life I often thought I might have liked if I hadn't joined the police force."
Katherine turned smiling. "Look at all the nice girls you might meet, especially some of those beautiful oriental girls. I believe they make wonderful wives."
"Will you ever stop trying to get me married. Although yes, I could fall for one of those beauties, he said with a faraway look in his eyes.
“Life on the ocean waves.”
He thought to himself that Katherine seemed to be coming back a little to herself. It was the first day she hadn't mentioned going to visit Shirley's grave. He was going to suggest going for a drive into Liverpool after lunch, and hopefully, little by little, break her cycle of mourning.
They spent a pleasant afternoon wandering around Liverpool. At Katherine’s insistence, Henry visited shops he would never have dreamed of going into. Once inside, Katherine insisted on rigging him out with an assortment of new shirts, underwear, socks, shoes and ties he knew he'd never wear.
"You could do with a nice new suit, or maybe a sports coat and sla
cks would be nice."
"Yes my dearest sister, but I didn't bring that amount of cash so we'll have to leave it for another day."
Out on the street again he stopped to look in a jewelers shop window and spotting a beautiful cameo brooch he turned to Katherine. "Come on in here a minute." He always had a thing about cameo jewelry. His mother wore a cameo brooch on a silk scarf around her neck. This more than anything was his fondest memory of her as she'd hug him close to her and kiss him on the cheek when she was going out, telling him to be a good boy. The cameo brooch was also the last thing he remembered as she said goodbye to him when she was leaving with his father to go to hospital. He was too small to be told how seriously ill she was, and shortly after he was told she had gone to heaven. He didn't understand.
"Could I see that cameo brooch you have displayed in the window?"
A pretty blonde girl with a navy blue skirt and white blouse smiled. "I have the same one here." She took it out of the showcase then placed it on the glass counter top.
"Yes, that's the very one. Look Katherine, do you like it?”
“But Henry you shouldn't buy that for me."
"Yes I should." He turned to the girl. "Could you please wrap it for me?"
When they reached the car he asked Katherine if she'd wear it. She took it out of the box and he pinned it to the front of her blouse. "There you are, you look beautiful."
Chapter Four
There was brilliance in the early summer morning as Henry lay restless in bed; he glanced at the bedside clock. Good grief, he thought, it was only six o’clock. The birdsong from the surrounding gardens was symphonic. He’d never taken time to listen and enjoy this wonderful side of nature, always too busy rushing here or there. He jumped out of bed and while the kettle was boiling, he shaved.
The streets were quiet and empty as he strolled towards the canal. He could see over the rooftops the masts of a ship tied up at the small dock. He rounded onto the canal bank and could hear the orders being shouted on the ship as her mooring ropes were let go and heaved on board. ‘All clear forward sir.’ Then the same from the stern, ‘all clear aft.’ He stood watching as the crew busied themselves on deck. The pilot with the captain were on the wing of the bridge looking over to see she was clearing the quay as the propellers were slowly moving her out into the canal. Bloody hell, he thought. Could it be possible that the ship was not there at seven o’clock last night? He had never noticed the shipping before; it wasn't until he took time with Katherine to stroll along the canal that he became aware of ships tying up at the dock for short intervals.
He went along to the lock master. The man looked like the ancient mariner with his uniform and peak cap, with wisps of gray hair protruding beneath the band around his ears and neck.
"Good morning sir." Henry saluted him, as the lock master stood watching the big Maersk Line ship heading up the canal to Manchester.
His smile was amiable. "It’s going to be another very hot day. It reminds me a bit when we sailed around the Mediterranean trading into the North African ports. Ah, I was young then… didn't mind the heat."
Henry extended his hand. "Henry Carter, I'm a detective with our local police here."
"Geoffrey Latham, lock master with just about a month to go to retirement, and looking forward to it."
"Well Geoffrey, there's a small favor you might be able to do for me."
"If at all possible I'll be of assistance. What is the nature of this favor?"
"About five weeks ago on the night of June third, could you tell me if there was a ship tied up here for the night?"
"Come along with me now and we'll look up the log.
Henry followed him into his little office. It was dark like a sorcerer's cave and little lights spun round before him until his eyes adjusted from the bright sunlight. He saw an old table with a worn chair and cabinet behind it, the smoothness of its timber doors revealing it had been opened and closed some thousands of times. The lock master pulled a large ledger from a drawer and laid it on the table.
"What date did you say again?"
"The third of June."
As he leafed through the big pages, Henry had moved around the table and was looking over his shoulder. He could feel a knot in his stomach and felt as if some celestial force was guiding him. The page for the third of June flopped open, and written in bold black ink was the name: S.S. RANGOON.
"Here we are, the S.S. Rangoon tied up at seventeen hundred hours on June third and sailed at six hundred hours on June fourth."
Henry pulled over the old chair and sat by the table. Taking out his note pad and pen he began to write. He could feel his heart thumping against his chest - he had that gut feeling you get when you know you are onto something definite. He’d gotten the same feeling on numerous occasions when investigating crime.
"Geoffrey, could you give me some details about this ship?"
"Yes, let me see now.” He squinted and stared across the top of the ledger. “She is owned by a London company called… let me see now.” He pulled out another smaller book and leafed through the pages alphabetically. "Ah here it is, Carlisle Brent Shipping, London, their address is 64 Belgrave Street.”
"What size ship is she?”
“She'd be twelve-thousand tons steam job. Trades mostly east of Suez, India, Pakistan, Mauritius, for sugar and Australia for grain. These ships pick up cargoes wherever they can."
"What type of crew - I mean would they be all British?"
"No, not likely, she could have a very mixed crew; British officers and probably a few Scottish engineers, maybe a few Irish lads and also a few Indians or Pakistanis."
"How many crewmen would she be likely to carry?"
The lock master took off his cap and with a stained handkerchief, wiped the beads of perspiration across his forehead. “She’d have a compliment of about forty.”
“As many as that?”
"Yes, that would be about average for these up and down jobs. That’s what these old steam ships are known as."
"Thanks Geoffrey, you've been a great help."
After saying goodbye, Henry made his way to the police station and told his full story to Stanley Knight.
"It’s a distinct possibility Henry, and one that should be followed up. But how to go about it is another day’s work. I've never come across a case involving a ship that has gone to sea with a suspect on her. The only time I came across anything remotely like that was in the movie with John Mills and his daughter Haley - called Tiger Bay."
"Yes, I've seen that movie - one of my favorite actors, John Mills."
"Have you anything in mind as to what way we should go about this business?"
"With your permission, I was going to travel to London and talk with some of the senior men at the ship's company, and try and get a profile of the ship and her crew."
"I see Henry; I'll clear it with my seniors in London and then let you know what they think of the whole business. They may be able to give you some assistance when you arrive in London."
Henry spoke to Katherine and Denis about this new twist in the investigation and his impending visit to London. Katherine sat on the couch upright and tense, holding Denis's hand in hers, cradled in her lap. She opened her mouth to speak but no sound uttered forth. Denis stared with incredulity at Henry, then he spoke, his voice was almost a whisper. "Who would ever have thought of a ship's crewman, it's just so feasible and yet so incredible and the more you think about it the more it seems so possible."
Katherine jerked forward almost touching Henry who was sitting close to her. "Imagine Henry, this monster could be doing the same with other little girls in places all around the world. He must be caught," she exclaimed.
He gently touched her arm. "Whoever he is or wherever he is, he must be caught, but we're a long way before we'll know for certain if he is a crew member on that ship. We'll know a lot more when I get back from London. Hopefully, I should know in a couple of days if I have permission to go and follow u
p the investigation. Especially after being relieved of duty."
Katherine stood up and walked over to the bay window, she seemed to be staring at the privet hedge at the bottom of the garden, but in reality she was gazing across the oceans of the world. Her vision was in lands she'd only heard of, but the scene was the same, young girls mutilated and murdered - their innocent bodies subjected to unspeakable acts of abuse. Her voice was haunted when she spoke. "You'll have to catch him Henry. Whether they sanction your duty or not; he is the devil.”
Two days later, Stanley asked Henry to meet him for a drink in their local pub. Stanley was sipping a pint of bitter when Henry walked up to the bar.
"What will it be Henry?"
"A pint of bitter. It’s been a hot day and the body could do with a bit of fluid. Mowing that grass is thirsty work.”
Stanley looked around and took stock of the other customers. At seven o’clock the pub was usually quiet, and this evening was no exception. Two senior citizens were just finishing their pints and were readying their selves for leaving. Stanley motioned to a table in an alcove by the stained glass window; the sun shone through and colored the area in purples, blues, amber and reds. They sat down and Henry looked at his pint as a rainbow shaft of sunlight shone through it, forming an artistic prism affect.
Stanley spoke in a low monotone. "I've been on to our seniors in London and they want you to call in when you're in town, and could you let them know the day before as they want some of their senior men to meet with you. I think the theory of a seaman being the main suspect has captured their attention - big time."
"Will I go to the shipping company first or should I report to the Scotland Yard Offices?"