by John Molloy
“Good.” Vincent rubbed his hands before opening the car door.
“We’ll get the bastard, don’t you worry, Henry.”
Henry went home to Runcorn to visit Denis, and to his great relief he found a somewhat structured normal family life had arisen out of the trauma and sadness. He visited the graves of his two loved ones and knelt on the cold limestone surround. He prayed to them both that he would be successful in having their killer convicted, because indirectly he had also killed Katherine. A chill reality began to grow as the days went by and he began piecing the evidence together - was it conclusive? The Rangoon was due in London in a few days. Vera would get in touch and let him know the day before she arrived. He visited his work mates and they welcomed him and shook his hand as if he was some kind of celebrity. You know your name is all over the country, on every newsletter in the force. What you did was unheard of, were typical of the comments he received. His bleached hair and tanned face reflected to his friends the extent of his travels. Just imagine, one was heard saying; living with a serial killer on the same ship. His celebrity status had spread to his local pub and everyone wanted to buy him a drink. He was feted and fawned on, with drinks arriving before him; so many that he couldn’t possibly drink them all. He went home merry if not three quarter drunk on both nights he went to the pub, and woke with headaches he’d willingly swap with anyone!
The morning was bright and he could hear a birdsong permeating his fuzzy head. He was halfway through breakfast when the phone rang; it was Vera’s very controlled and perfectly worded voice. “Is that you Henry?”
“Yes Vera, I presume you have news.”
“You presume right dear, the Rangoon is due in tomorrow so if you are in town I’ll arrange for a meeting with her captain.”
“Vera that’s very kind of you. I’ll travel today and call to see you at the office in the morning.”
“Very good Henry, bye.”
Henry made an appointment to meet the captain of the Rangoon in the company’s offices; he asked Vincent to come along.
Vera showed them into the office of marine superintendent, Captain Leavy-Hobbs, he was seated at his desk and the captain of the Rangoon who had arrived just ahead of them was standing talking to his superior.
“Sit down gentlemen.”
Vera addressed Captain Leavy-Hobbs. “Is there anything you want from files?”
“Not that I can think of Miss Twist, but if there is anything, I’ll call you.”
“Now gentleman, I want to welcome Henry our undercover detective and formally introduce you to Captain John Morsbey.”
“I’m so pleased to meet you, and Henry I must congratulate you on a successful job carried out under very trying circumstances. Here is the box I recovered from under your bunk mattress. Your discharge book is in this envelope, I’m sure you’ll hardly need it again, but it will be a reminder of your very trying experiences as a merchant marine.”
Henry was so impressed by this quite spoken man who wielded such authority as master on his ship.
“Thank you sir. It was a pleasure sailing under your command.”
He turned and laid a hand on Vincent’s arm.
“I’d like to introduce my good friend who organized a huge amount of the overseas contacts and undercover work without which I couldn’t have operated; this is Detective Superintendent Vincent Benedict.”
They shook his hand.
Captain Leavy-Hobbs suggested they should continue on first name terms.
“I’m Bob and our captain is John, Vincent and Henry.”
“Now gentlemen, to start I would like to ask Henry to tell us what the latest is on this man Tukola.”
Henry sat forward on his chair and nervously gave a small cough.
“As you probably know, he’s in custody on suspicion of the murder and rape of Shirley Marlow a sixteen year old girl, who also, as you know, happened to be my niece.”
The captain stood up and put an arm around Henry’s shoulder. “You have my heartfelt sympathies.”
“Thank you sir….er… John.”
“As Vincent will verify, the judge who remanded him in custody did so only until further evidence could be produced to strengthen the case against him. The crimes he committed out of this jurisdiction, he cannot be tried for them here, so we have only the one to hold him on – my niece’s murder. In that box,” he said, turning to the captain,” I don’t know if you’ve looked inside, is a ring belonging to my niece, Shirley. I bought it for her as a sixteenth birthday present. Also there’s the ring the young stowaway girl Pippa wore on a chain around her neck. And there is other gruesome evidence from some of his victims.”
Vincent leaned over and took the box which was wrapped in brown paper. He opened the paper and laid the box on the desk. The men stood up to get a closer look.
The captain said in a quite voice, “I have never opened it. I thought it might be too upsetting.”
No one spoke as Vincent lifted the lid. He took out the ring belonging to Shirley and with a pencil that was lying on the desk he lifted out the chain with the ring. The two men looked aghast, the captain’s voice was faltering when he spoke.
“That’s Pippa’s chain and ring. Someday when this is all over, could I have it to take back to her mother in Colombo?”
Vincent looked at him as he would a child who had lost a dear one.
“I’m sure that can be arranged.”
Henry explained that the rest of the evidence was mainly small pieces of the victims’ bodies that will have to go to forensics to be examined.
Then Vincent held up Shirley’s ring.
“On this ring will rest the whole case against him, and Henry can prove this is the ring he purchased and gave to her.”
The four men just stared silently at the contents in the box.
Vincent broke the silence like a crystal glass cracking.
“He cut parts of the anatomy from his victims. Although the flesh is now withered, you can imagine where it was cut from. The other bangles and trinkets were also taken from these unfortunate girls.”
Henry was disconsolate as he lamented, “we cannot charge him with any of these murders which is sickening knowing he’s such a guilty brute. You know John, he killed both those girls on the Rangoon and we also have a finger print to prove he was in Pippa’s cabin.”
Vincent closed the box and re-wrapped it in the paper.
“I am pushing to have him tried for the murder of Pippa if we can’t convict him on Shirley’s murder. It was on a British ship even if it was in International waters. The laws governing this type of crime are so complicated and challenges to them so infuriatingly futile as to be maddeningly frustrating to say the least.”
The captain looked at Vincent with a quizzical expression.
“My God that’s absolutely negative. Is it really that bad?”
“I’m afraid so, unless our Crown Prosecutor can come up with something new. I’m not an authority on these cases but I do know of a few that we’d tried to prosecute and failed.”
Captain Leavy-Hobbs was surprised at the negativity of the detective.
“I hope you’re not a prophet of doom after all the work and danger Henry has gone through.”
Henry sat silent, deep in his thoughts.
Vincent noticed the effect his limited knowledge of legal proceedings had had on the men.
“I’m painting the worst scenario, but let’s hope our first prosecution will be enough to convict him.”
He took the box and stood up. “I think we’ve gone over everything but if there’s anything I can help with you can get in touch with me or Henry who will be working with me. Right, I must get this evidence to headquarters as soon as possible and help them build a case to keep this monster in jail. He’s coming before the magistrate in a few days and his defense will be looking for bail. We want him kept in jail until his trial.”
Henry accompanied Vincent as he took the box to the Deputy Commissioner at Scotlan
d Yard. While they were there he called the younger man who had helped in the early stages of the case.
Tom Frazer walked in and gave Henry a big welcome.
“I haven’t seen you since you arrived back. I was up country, but I have the report profiling our prisoner.” He opened a folder on the desk and handed each of them a copy which they read in silence and when they had finished, Henry looked at them with a knowing look, indicating that the report held no surprises for him.
Tom took it up. “His birth place the Celebes Islands, as you may or may not know are home to a very primitive people with customs and traditions going back thousands of years. One of these fits his behavior in the way he treated the bodies of his victims; filling their orifices with clothing or whatever he had at hand, putting fish hooks around their faces especially their nose, mouth and ears. This practice still goes on today among the peoples of these islands. They believe that when someone dies their spirit is released from their body through these orifices, and also their rectum and vagina. If the person has been murdered then these spirits will harbor evil for the perpetrator and cause them much harm. They will suffer sickness and excruciating pain and eventually a crippling epileptic death. To avoid this they must stop the spirits escaping and if they do escape the fish hooks will catch them and prevent their entry to the person who killed the victim. This seems to fit the practice of Hadar Tukola.”
The Deputy Commissioner looked up from the paper, his fresh pink complexion and stern face showing no emotion or concern.
“I’ll submit this to the Crown Prosecution. With all the evidence we have here in this box, I must say it is a very bizarre development and one I hope can be presented in court without seeming to be going back to the Spanish Inquisition.”
Tom looked at him and spoke with the confidence of a man who had done his research thoroughly.
“The reference to this study can be found in the book by James Frazer, “The Golden Bough” and I will supply you a copy with the passages marked to give to the Crown Prosecutor.”
“Thank you Tom. That would be a big help and save them time on researching. If that’s all gentlemen I’ll let you go, but I might want to see you Henry tomorrow.”
Tom and Henry accompanied Vincent to his office where he ordered a pot of tea and biscuits to be brought up to them. Tom asked his two friends if they thought he should tone down the report he compiled for the Crown Prosecution. They both thought the more shocking it sounded the more a jury was likely to find him guilty.
Vincent was still a little non-committal when he said they would have to have a case ready in a few days in time for Tukola’s bail hearing. “I hope we get a different magistrate than that old fossil we had last time; he couldn’t see wrong in Jack the Ripper.”
Tom laughed a somewhat nervous laugh.
Vincent stood up and looked at the clock hanging crooked on the wall; it was nearly five.
“Come on me hearties, next stop The Black Lion and the drinks are on me.”
Next morning Vincent was asked to go to the Deputy Commissioner’s office. He had the file for the case on his desk and was going over some points he wanted to emphasize to the Crown Prosecution when he gave them the file later that day. He was studying some of the crucial evidence when Henry knocked and walked in.
“Please sit down Henry. I’ve been going over the file. The ring is a crucial bit of evidence and I want you to give me as much information as possible about it.”
He took a sheaf of paper and pen and wrote something on the top corner.
“Could you give me the exact date you bought the ring?”
“Yes, it was two days before her birthday and that would make it the fourteenth of March, 1958.”
“Fine, and the name and address of the jeweler’s shop you purchased the ring from, I don’t suppose you have a receipt?”
He gave him the name and address of the jewelers in Liverpool but said he hadn’t kept the receipt.
“I will have to do a bit of research on the ring to see how many were manufactured and by whom. I’m sure you understand. We don’t want the defense council tearing our case to pieces.”
“Yes I understand. We want the best case possible and the ring is such a crucial bit of evidence.”.
The Deputy Commissioner was reading through the paper Tom had given him, he leaned back in his chair and looked at Henry.
“Henry, I’ve read this extraordinary report of Tom’s, but I just can’t seem to get it into reality that voodoo is still in existence and happening in this day and age. I’m trying to imagine the reaction of a jury when this is put to them. Will they dismiss it out of hand as ridiculous, or take it seriously and see the defendant for what he is - a cruel monster. It’s a shame we can’t use any of the other murders to paint a picture of how evil he is.”
Henry moved around nervously on his chair.
“Could you give me an honest opinion sir, on what you think the chances of a conviction are?”
The Deputy brushed his blonde hair back off his forehead and he frowned.
“It’s a knife edge case and the ring is going to decide it. The defense council will have a dozen explanations how the ring came into his possession. Also he shared a cabin I believe with another crewman, so he could plead that the box belonged to him. Also that other crewman was on the ship the night Shirley was murdered. We have a lot of loose ends that need to be tied up if it’s possible. The anatomy parts won’t be admissible in this case unless we can prove beyond doubt at least one of them came from Shirley, and that’s not going to be easy. I’m going to submit all the evidence tomorrow to the big wigs; all except the ring. I’m having a man go to Liverpool to track down the manufacturers and get as much information as possible on it. You take a few days off and try to wind down a bit. You’ve had a hard few months.”
“Thanks sir, I’ll do that and Vincent will no doubt keep me updated.”
“Fine, we’ll leave it at that for the present and I’ll let you know as soon as I have information on the ring.”
There was a cold north-easterly wind blowing as he walked to meet Vera. He had arranged to meet her outside a pub on Connaught Street. She arrived walking briskly and not in a taxi as he expected. She was muffled up with a knitted hat and scarf, and wearing a knee length tweed coat and fur boots.
“Good evening madam, this is where Ernest Shackelton’s crew are assembling for our Antarctic expedition.”
She brushed his face with her large fur mittens.
“You look cold and your sarcasm doesn’t become you young man.”
He kissed her on her cold little nose.
“Come inside out of the cold, fair maid and let me treat you to a hot glass of port.”
He helped her peel off the heavy outer clothes and they sat and stared at one another for half a minute, she broke into laughter. “My hot glass of port please.” The waiter brought them their drinks and they sat warming their hands on the glasses and sipping the sweet rich ruby nectar. She looked provocatively over her glass. “Would you like to discuss the case or would you prefer to have a rest from police work?”
He smiled at her pouting lips and red tipped nose and felt an overwhelming desire to take her teasing body and lovingly caress it. “Five minutes question time and then back to the Kama Sutra and the newest way to make love with you tonight.”
She put her hand across the table and held his, “agreed.”
His demeanor changed like a Jekyll and Hyde character, as he went over the case step by step and knew by her demeanor she wasn’t very impressed with their strength of evidence.
“Now what do you think of our chances of a conviction?”
She held his hands across the table looking into his eyes and spoke with a soft comforting tone.
“Besides the ring, the case is not overwhelming strong and a good defense council could throw doubt all over it. The ring is our best hope and surely that will convince a jury.”
“I need some little reassurance Ver
a. The doubts are surfacing far too frequently over the last couple of days.”
He asked her if she wanted to know the details of the girl murdered on the orders of Lord Welland. Her eyes lit up at the prospect of this great scandal and humiliation of the demon Lord.
“Henry you’re not to omit one morsel. I want to hear all.”
He related the whole episode from start to finish and watched her expression change from incredulous to hatred. She felt sincere remorse for the young girl, then with a triumphal attitude she exclaimed in a breathless gasp: “Will he be charged under Indian law with procuring and financing a heinous crime?”
“I’m going to try my best to have co-operation between our Crown Prosecution and the Indian police to bring charges against him. It might not be successful but he daren’t go back to India or he’ll be arrested.”
The pleasure at the thought of him being arrested and tried gave her such an elated feeling she felt sexually aroused.
“Henry we’ll go now and I’ll make you a night cap among my other little surprises I have for you.”
As he helped her on with her coat he leaned over and kissed her ear and whispered.
“Little surprises, I absolutely treasure.”
Her house was warm and wonderfully cozy from out of the cold biting wind. The lamps in the hallway threw soft shadows around the door frames and pictures. In the lounge a fire was glowing in the big marble fireplace.
“Henry please tend to the fire.”
She lit some scented candles standing them in glass globes. She brought a pink silk bed sheet and placed it on the rug in front of the fire and then went and got some bottles and laid them along inside the fire fender. Henry smelt the perfume from the lighted candles as it wafted round the room. He watched her as she tended to her vials and glass stopper bottles of oils and lotions standing them in rows like an apothecary. She spoke not a word but moved in graceful movements like a ballerina. She kicked her left leg and a shoe flew onto a lounge chair, she bent over and picked off the right one and pitched it after the other. Henry sat and watched the flames in the fire rise and dance throwing glittering rays through the bottles of colored oils. She stood before the fire and slipped her tangerine silk blouse off her shoulders and threw it to Henry. It wrapped round his face, her scent and body perfume was aphrodisiacal. She moved lithely and opened a drawer taking out a whip. She swished it round and struck Henry a light blow across his chest. It was made up of a dozen or more fluffy lengths of wool; the effect was like a light breeze across his skin. She threw him the toy.