by John Molloy
After Vera had finished her account they left the restaurant and Henry walked her back to the shipping office and then headed for Scotland Yard.
He was hoping Vincent might have the file on the Oswyn Welland case. He thought there might be a lot more that Vera hadn’t told him. He climbed two flights of stairs to Vincent's office. It was a small room tucked away at the back of the building with an unremarkable view of a drab office block. He knocked and walked in. Vincent was reclining in a leather armchair alongside the open window dozing fitfully. Henry coughed loudly, waking him with a start.
“You could give a man a heart attack doing things like that!”
“Sorry to disturb your siesta.”
“You’re forgiven, but you must realize,” he said jocularly, “us old retired chaps need our little afternoon nap.”
“I thought I’d drop by and say hello. I know it’s a bit soon to expect any developments from Tom, but would you think there is any chance of seeing the file on the Oswyn Welland case?”
Vincent tapped a red folder lying on the desk. “Here it is. I’ve been going through it since early morning and cannot see anything that could connect it to your Shirley’s murder. Now I’d like you to study it and see can you come up with anything I might have missed.” He handed the file to Henry and stood up stretching himself. “I’m going out for a little constitutional stroll, will be about an hour; would you like me to send you up a cup of coffee or tea?”
“No thanks, I’ve only just had lunch.”
It wasn’t a large file and it took Henry less than half an hour to read through it thoroughly. There was nothing he could find even if it were proved Oswyn had pushed her, to connect this to Shirley's murder. Alice Whittle had been in the early stages of pregnancy according to the autopsy report. She had fallen onto railings and suffered terrible injuries, but nothing to suggest they were anything similar to the injuries on Shirley’s body. The verdict was accidental death through misadventure. This is amazing how it could have suggested she might have been climbing around the roof parapet and fallen off. My goodness he thought as he closed the file, some of these coroner’s conclusions would test the most fertile imagination. He looked at the small clock on Vincent’s desk. He had been here about an hour. Then the door opened.
“Well, have we finished?”
“Yes Vincent and like you I couldn’t find anything to connect the two.”
He hadn’t shown Vincent the file on Shirley or told him about the way she had been defiled; all he knew was she had been strangled. He knew he must give him the file soon even though it was so upsetting to let other people witness the horrors of her death.
“I expect to have some information on two of the suspects tomorrow. The Irish lad may take a bit more time. While I was out I called into Tom and he has sent inquiries to five of the large port cities, so we can expect to have news from some of them in a few days. There is still a bit of colonial influence in Togo West Africa, Pakistan, Mauritius and Egypt. These, off the top of my head, are some of the countries of her ports of call.”
Henry stood up to let Vincent sit back on his chair. “I’ll be into the shipping office tomorrow and get as much information on the whereabouts of the ship at present. While there, I’ll ask what will be the procedure if I was to train as a crew member and ship out to replace one of her present crew. It could take a complicated bit of maneuvering to get a particular crew member home to make way for me.”
Vincent lifted the window open a little more and wiped some drops of perspiration off his forehead with a large handkerchief. “There’s no air circulating around here.” He walked over and put his hand on Henry’s shoulder. “I don’t know much about ships or shipping, but I’m sure we have some personnel who will help us out when the time comes, should it come to that. We still have a very active network of British agents across the civilized world and the top brass here can call up special favors if and when we might need them.”
“Good. Knowing that kind of backup was available would be a huge confidence booster for me.”
“Yes Henry, as your communications back to us here will be very limited and infrequent and if its airmail post, very slow, so you’ll need direct access through our diplomatic channels.”
Henry shook his head and looked down at the floor.
“If I do have to sail on that ship, knowing yourself and Tom are my backup will give me all the confidence I’ll need.”
“Yes Henry, a few days now will tell a tale.”
Henry glanced at his watch and said with a little anxious surprise in his voice. “I’ll have time to go to the shipping office. They don’t close for another hour and a half, I’ll see you tomorrow Vincent.
There was a man seated in the office when Henry arrived. Vera wasn’t anywhere to be seen. This man with dark brilliantine hair was in his early forties. A healthy suntan slotted him into a role as surely one of the company's seaman. Henry immediately realized he had blundered into something that could jeopardize his investigation.
“Are you for the Kowloon, she’s signing on tomorrow?”
Henry felt a knot in his stomach as apprehension began to build into panic, as the harmless questions this man would surely ask could blow his planned cover as a seaman to pieces.
“I’m applying for a job but I don’t suppose I’ll get on the Kowloon. They’ve probably got her crew already.”
“Yeah you’re right I’ve just come in to know what dock she’s in and what time she’s signing on. Won’t be sorry to ship out. I have had a good spell with the old lady. She’s getting a bit fed up with me now and the cash is getting scarce too. I’ll have to put the hard word on Miss Twist for a few quid advance. She’s a good old scout and wouldn’t see a fellow stuck. Have you ever met her?"
Before Henry could answer, Vera appeared from Captain Leavy-Hobbs’ room. She gave Henry a surprised and severe look.
Despite her demeanor, he felt relieved to see her. Now his friendly inquisitor would be cut short.
The sailor jumped to his feet.
“Good afternoon Miss Twist,” he said in the jolliest of voices.
This seemed to smooth the situation and restore Henry’s blood pressure to something approaching normal!
“Good day Mr. Leach.”
“I came in to know what time the Kowloon is signing on tomorrow.”
“She’s in the Royal Albert dock and signing on at eleven hundred hours.”
“Thank you Miss.” He leaned in over the counter and spoke in a little above a whisper. “Could you arrange for an advance for me? You know yourself how the cash gets scarce when you’re on the beach for a couple of months.”
“Of course I do Mr. Leach.”
She went to her desk and took out a small book, and came back to the counter. “Would five pounds be alright?”
“Could you make it seven; you know, five for the missus and a couple for meself.”
“Seven it is Mr. Leach.” She handed him the chit. “Take this down to the accounts department, and Mr. Leach, have a good voyage.”
“Thank you Miss I will.
See you again sometime.” he said to Henry as he breezed out the door and gave the little piece of paper a kiss.
Vera was standing at the counter and as she spoke to Henry she kept looking at the door. “Henry, as pleased as I am to see you, I can’t imagine why you decided to come here without ringing me first. You see that man just gone out? I could have ten or twenty more like him in today. It’s always like this on the day before one of our ships signs articles. Captain Leavy-Hobbs is away on board the Kowloon so you better come into his office.” She opened the big teak grained door and led Henry through.
“I never realized the seriousness of meeting crewmen from the company’s ships and how inquisitive their friendly questions could be.”
“Yes Henry, it would be all so innocent but you could be caught in a tricky situation concerning your non-existent seafaring career.”
He sat in the captain�
��s large desk chair. He was joined by Vera who sat on his lap, two arms around his neck and her mouth on his. He wanted her there and then as they both sought hungrily for each other. Suddenly Vera pulled away and stood up. She was flushed and trembling as she pulled her skirt down to cover her exposed thighs.
“Wipe that lipstick off your mouth. I so want you Henry, but it will have to wait”
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the evidence of lust off his lips. She moved around the large desk and sat on its outer side. “I’ll stay this side to avoid temptation. Now, what’s so urgent to bring you here, Henry?”
“I’ve just left the Yard and they are getting on with their inquiries to the ports of call of the Rangoon for her previous twelve months voyage. If we turn up any crimes that fall into the same category as Shirley’s murder, then I will have to consider seriously about sailing as a crew member.”
Vera crossed her shapely legs to make herself more comfortable on the large desktop.
“Yes, I agree with you that it’s the only way to catch this murderer, if in fact your theory is correct. How long will it take for you to know for sure?”
“We should have some information in two or three days. The larger ports authorities will understand how urgent it is and if they find anything, they should contact our embassies without delay.”
“Have you thought about what department of a ship’s crew you could best fit into?
“I have done some time in H.M. navy reserve fleet, so I have some ship’s experience.”
“That’s going to save a lot of time, so it will be a case of getting you the proper papers and discharge book.
“I realize that, and that’s why I’m here now with you to get your advice and help, without you this whole exercise would be impossible.”
“Now, a ship’s crew is divided into three categories. I am of the firm belief that you cannot fit into either the deck section or the engine room. I believe the catering department would be the most suitable.”
“How long do you think it would take before I could join the Rangoon?”
“My conservative estimation,” she wrinkled up her nose and upper lip and looked up at the corniced ceiling as if in calculated concentration, “I’d say really pushing it, two to three weeks.”
“That’s pretty good.”
Just then, the outside door opened, and closed.
“There is someone in the outside office; just wait here.” She went to the outer office. Henry could hear her telling someone about the arrangements to sign on the S.S.Kowloon. He looked at the beautiful brass ship's clock on the wall. It showed five minutes to five. They finish up here at five o’clock, he thought. He walked around the dark timber paneled room admiring the paintings of the old company ships. He began to realize he would be living with crew members who had sailed on these ships for years and realized he was looking at one of his future homes. Vera was now standing behind him; he hadn’t heard her come in.
“There’s a lot of history on those bulkheads.” she said.
“Yes, I was just admiring the old steamers.”
She gave him a peck on the cheek.
“We’ll have to leave the building now as our trusted night watchman comes round to lock up. Henry, will you phone before coming to see me or Captain Leavy-Hobbs. I think we should meet outside this office to be on the right side of caution. I cannot ask you to my house because I have relatives staying overnight, but could you call tomorrow evening to see if you have further news.”
"Thanks again Vera, I'll call you in a day or two."
Chapter Ten
Henry decided to go home for a couple of days and see Katherine and Denis; he was anxious about Katherine.
He went straight to their house and sure enough, when he met them he found Katherine had slipped back into her quiet and unresponsive state.
She reminded him of his mother as she slowly sank into a state of senile dementia. He told her of the progress he had made in London. She seemed unimpressed and uninterested. She turned to him and smiled.
"I saw Shirley last night she came to me in a dream."
Katherine looked away, turning her face up towards the ceiling; her eyes were glazed over in dreamlike stare. “She was in a beautiful garden, the sun shone warm on her hair and she laughed, calling out to me with outstretched arms, but I couldn't reach her. She kept moving away and then she faded into a bright silvery mist in the garden, but I know I'll see her again soon."
Henry held her hands in his and looked into her beautiful but disturbed, azure eyes. "Katherine, I see Shirley all the time; her lovely happy face is part of my everyday existence. We have to be strong and live with the memories and try to bear the pain of her loss. She will always be with us looking down from her place in heaven."
"Yes Henry, that's where I saw her, it was heaven. It was so peaceful and beautiful."
Denis shouted in from the kitchen. "Tea’s ready."
Henry gently pulled her up from the armchair. "Come on, we'll have a cup of tea."
He was shocked by her severe weight loss as he pulled her up. She must have lost around 30 pounds since he last saw her. I'll have to talk to Denis about her when I get him alone, he thought.
In the kitchen, Henry tried to engage her in conversation, searching for a bit of local gossip, but she seemed remote and uninterested.
Katherine decided to retire to bed early making an excuse she had a headache.
"But Katherine, I'll be going away again in the morning. Could you not stay and keep us company for a little longer?"
"I'll see you in the morning before you go."
When she was out of earshot, Denis turned to Henry, he had tears in his eyes and his lips trembled. "I don't know how to say this, but she's fading away before our very eyes, and there seems to be nothing we can do to help her."
"What did the doctor say, what medication is she on?"
"He's been wonderful. He calls at least every three days and does his best to assess her medication. If he thinks it’s not working he'll leave her on it for about a week and then change to something else. He's done this about three times now and nothing seems to be helping her. Her appetite is gone. The doctor has put her on a tonic to try to get her eating, but she won't take the tonic; she says it makes her feel sick. She's also taking sleeping tablets so I must go and give her one now. I don’t allow her to keep them. I have to be careful that she doesn’t accidently overdose on them."
Denis left the room to go to Katherine. Henry sat lonely and disconsolate staring at a large photograph of Shirley, her bright happy smile lighting up a world of youth and dreams. He began to visualize a ship sailing through a dark sea with heavy thunder and lightning all round and this evil monster lurking along the deck and peeping out from behind the bulwarks. He saw a beautiful girl in a cage with golden bars. The monster was trying to reach and snatch her from the safety of her gilded prison. Then Denis came back into the room.
"Denis, could you pour me a stiff scotch, my nerves seem to be running riot with me."
As they sat and drank their scotches, the silence between the two men was palpable.
Denis broke the silence.
"Henry, the doctor says she has gone into an incurable state of self-destruction, and if it cannot be checked, she will extinguish her life. He suggested to her to go for counseling but she refused. I wanted the two of us to go together but she wouldn't hear of it. You see Henry, it's tearing my insides out watching her dying before my very eyes and not being able to do anything to help her." Henry covered his face with his hands and laid his head onto his knees. Denis had never seen a grown man cry or sob so heart-brokenly, a shy private person, he floundered in the slipstream of henry’s sorrow.
He refilled the glasses of scotch.
"Have another drop of scotch Henry."
He lifted his head and with a large check handkerchief he wiped the tears. "I'm so sorry Denis; it's just the helplessness that seems to have me trapped. It’s like being
in a straight-jacket and watching a tragedy unfold before you.”
The train journey back to London gave Henry space and time to fill. The monumental task to somehow apprehend the evil killer evoked a momentary feeling of despair. He was glad when he arrived at Euston Station. By this time he had shaken off any negative thoughts as he purposefully made his way to Scotland Yard to see what developments there were.
Vincent and Tom were already in the office.
Tom laid a folder on the desk. Vincent opened a drawer and took out some sheets of A4 settled on his horn rimmed glasses and took up page one. "Now Henry, we've been busy little beavers since we last met. If it's alright with you Tom, I'll start."
"Go ahead."
"Well, we'll leave out Oswyn Welland; we've already gone through his background. So I'll start with Gary Conrad, assistant steward. He is twenty-five years of age, born in Hastings East Sussex, was married to a Mary Hayden when he was twenty-one. He has been divorced one and a half years and lives back home with his parents in Hastings. Now one of the reasons cited by Mary Hayden in her divorce case was mental cruelty and physical abuse. I have a report here from the local hospital of injuries she received from her husband; injuries that kept her hospitalized for three days. This abuse was very deliberate and akin to torture. He bound her hands behind her back and her legs. Tied to a bedpost, he stripped her naked, gagged her and systematically beat her with his fists and a leather belt. During the initial beatings he'd have sex with her, and proceed then to abuse her verbally. He would leave her tied like this for maybe four or five hours, going out to his local pub to get drunk. On returning he would beat and maybe burn her with his lighted cigarette, before sodomizing her. He put up no defense at the divorce hearing, and the judge asked Mary Hayden's legal team if they were pursuing a prosecution against this man on the grounds of criminal abuse. As yet, there hasn’t been any charges brought against him, but maybe this is one reason he doesn't take leave when the ship arrives back here in Britain."