The Untimely Death Box Set

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The Untimely Death Box Set Page 77

by James Kipling


  “How was Alice as an employee?”

  “She was a quiet, hard working girl. Frankly, I liked her work, but at times she seemed to be lost in her own world and didn’t concentrate on the job at hand. Sometimes she would slip up. I warned her a few times that she should pay more attention to her work.”

  “Why was she fired?”

  “One of my most important clients complained that Alice had handled her roughly while massaging her thighs, and that she had suffered from pain for days. Her doctor had put the blame on the massage. The lady came into the parlour in a fury and threatened to sue me. She told me that Alice was to be blamed, so I had no other option but to fire her. I felt bad for her, but then she should have been more careful. I couldn’t allow her carelessness to ruin the reputation of my establishment.”

  Tim put in, “Alice later confided to a friend that she had been framed. She said that the lady whom she massaged went away perfectly satisfied but later cooked up a story, and that you fired her on baseless grounds.”

  Mrs. Johnson flushed. She retorted angrily, “I don’t know who’s telling these stories. Alice knew perfectly well that she was at fault. True, she pleaded with me to give her one more chance, but I was determined; I couldn’t keep employees who lapsed. Anyway, why should one of my most trusted clients accuse one of my employees falsely? She had no reason to. “

  “Do you think you acted justly? She lost her job because of your action.”

  “You’re wrong: she lost her job because of negligence. I’m sure that she could easily have gotten a new job if she tried. People lose their jobs all the time. Why blame me? I have to take the feelings of my clients into consideration. As I told you, they are my top priority. I run my business because of them and I can’t afford to lose their favour because of the mistake of just one girl. At the same time, I was shocked to learn about her ghastly murder when I heard the news.”

  “How did you hear it?”

  “Actually, one of my employees told me. She’d heard it on television, and she came rushing to me and said, ‘did you know Alice was killed? The dart murderer has struck again. No girl is safe in this town. We will all be killed,’ or words to that effect. I remember having to calm her down, but I couldn’t immediately follow what happened. She repeated the news and I simply sank down on the sofa, totally shocked. After all, I knew Alice. She had worked for me and I never wish ill of a person. For a few moments, I simply sat, struck dumb. Then I got up and switched on the television so I could hear the news myself. It was extremely disturbing; I felt sick inside.”

  “OK, I won’t take up any more of your time, I’ll be going now.” Tim walked out of the restaurant, his face thoughtful.

  Chapter 16

  1

  Gladys was sitting in her office and thinking. Her thoughts once again drifted to Jane. How many times had she tried to stop herself from thinking about Jane? Three months had passed since then and she should have gotten over Jane’s death by now, but she hadn’t. The agony and pain returned whenever she thought of it. Jane, her best friend, had become a victim of the dart murderer, who seemed to enjoy killing girls with green eyes and blonde hair. It was just too unbelievable to think about for too long.

  Gladys thought, thank God I have blue eyes and plain, mouse-coloured hair! There was nothing attractive about her. Her PC was open in front of her but she couldn’t concentrate; the figures just danced in front of her eyes. She told herself sternly, “this will never do. Jane is dead and gone but you are alive and well. You have to shake yourself out of it.”

  Gladys decided to go to the office cafeteria and pour herself a hot cup of tea, and with cup in hand, she walked back to her work place. She started sipping her tea. It was refreshing. She tried to concentrate on her work again and this time felt much better. She worked for the next couple of hours without a break, but at the back of her mind, she felt a nagging doubt. It was now four o’clock in the evening. Two more hours to go, and then she’d head for home. Maybe a good night’s sleep would make her feel better.

  Jane’s face once more swam before her eyes. She thought of her sudden bursts of laughter and the way her eyes had sparkled whenever Gladys cracked a joke. The two of them had shared such a lot together. Jane had so often confided in her and trusted her. Unlike her, Jane was pretty attractive and sometimes made heads turn. Gladys had, at times, envied Jane her looks. She herself didn’t draw much attention.

  Then everything had gone berserk: Jane was killed and the police were asking questions. Gladys remembered the police Inspector who had talked to her first. He seemed a decent man. Gladys had told him all she knew, but suddenly, a doubt entered her mind. Had she told him all she knew? There was something that Jane had told her which was important, but try as she might, Gladys just couldn’t recall what it was. She thought again. There was some fact that had been disturbing her all along – something which might have a bearing on the case.

  Once again, Gladys thought of Jane’s death. Her mind, now calm and cool, went over all the facts leading to Jane’s death and everything that had followed. Yes, there was something she’d missed.

  Then it all came to her in a flash. It was just something Jane had dropped. Should she talk to the police? That Inspector seemed so nice, but then again, it may not be anything serious; it could just be Jane’s imagination, and she would look foolish walking into the police station with such an unbelievable story. No, it was better to consult someone else – someone who generally gave sound advice.

  She rang up a friend and told her breathlessly, “I’ve just thought of something. It may or may not have anything to do with Jane’s murder but it could be important. I simply don’t know what to do.”

  The voice on the other end said, “what is it?”

  “Look, I can’t say anything over the phone, I’m still at the office. But I want to take your advice. I just remembered something that Jane told me. Can we meet, say for dinner?”

  The voice at the other end said, “OK, done. I think you should go to the police with anything unusual.”

  “I may just be reading too much into what could be nothing.” Gladys hung up the phone. She was glad she had told someone.

  A decision would be made at dinner.

  Julian wondered what was up. He occupied the cubicle next to Gladys and she had a rather loud voice, which carried. Even though he didn’t mean to eavesdrop, he’d heard Gladys’s conversation with her friend. She was talking in a rather excited voice.

  Had she found out something new about Jane’s death? It seemed rather far-fetched after so many months. Gladys had been affected by the death of her friend; she had taken it hard and not been her normal self. Julian thought of going over to Gladys’s seat and chatting with her – maybe the poor girl needed help.

  He was just about to get up when he heard the clicking of Gladys’s keyboard. She was apparently hard at work. He shouldn’t disturb her now. He sat down again. After all, he could talk to her anytime. There was no hurry.

  At last, it was time to go home. Gladys was glad work was finally over. She picked up her handbag and walked out, getting her car from the car park and then heading home. She lived alone. She opened her apartment, brewed a cup of black coffee, and sat sipping it, thinking.

  She felt better. She thought of taking a bath to help her relax, so she went to her bedroom and started removing her clothes. It always felt good to get out of her working clothes.

  Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Putting on her bathrobe, she went to open the door, and sliding the bolts open, she looked up questioningly. Someone entered and before she knew what was happening, she had been caught from behind and stabbed with a knife. Her mobile phone lay battered, dashed to pieces. Gladys was dead before she knew it.

  Her body was discovered late at night. The couple who occupied the next flat were returning home at around 1:00 a.m. after a late night show, happy and laughing with each other. When they passed Gladys’s room, they noticed a tric
kle of what looked like blood on the corridor floor. They wondered if everything was all right.

  They rang the apartment door but there was no answer. They rang again and still received no answer. The young woman, Matilda, became worried. She then pushed the door.

  To her dismay, she found that it was not bolted from the inside and gave way easily. She and her husband walked inside and there lay Gladys, sprawled on the floor, dead, with a ghastly wound on her back. There was blood all over the place: on the sofa, the carpet, and the stool.

  Matilda screamed and her husband called the police and reported the murder.

  2

  Chief Inspector Patrick Campbell, along with Geoffrey and Tim, came to the scene of the crime. It was 8:00 a.m. in the morning. Police had arrived almost immediately after the phone call and the body was photographed from all angles. A few people were present in the flat, including the man on duty in security. The place had been ransacked but nothing was found. The victim had been stabbed with a pointed knife but the murder weapon hadn’t been recovered. It was estimated that death had been almost instantaneous. The body was later taken for post mortem.

  Patrick said, “it’s our murderer, all right, except this was an unplanned murder. The killer seems to have acted quickly and this time struck with a knife rather than a dart. Gladys was a friend of Jane; in fact, she was her closest friend, so maybe she knew some vital piece of information that was dangerous for the murderer. He or she may have come to know about it and panicked. It’s strange that these apartment houses are quite secure with four flats on each floor, yet no one seems to have seen anything. Geoffrey, you and Tim had met Gladys. Did you think she was holding anything back?”

  Geoffrey said slowly, “I didn’t get such an impression at the time; she seemed quite an open person, friendly and forthcoming. I got the impression that she was telling me the truth. She didn’t look the type to be withholding information.”

  “Yes, that’s the same impression I got, after hearing your conversation. But she may have thought about something else suddenly, which she thought could be important. It’s a pity that she didn’t call the police immediately. Most people think too much. If she had called us, maybe her life would have been saved.”

  The three policemen went through the room. The flat had a fair sized living room and bedroom. The living room, where the murder took place, was sparsely furnished with just a sofa and two armchairs. A cheap carpet covered the room. There were a few photographs on a stool, and one of them was of Gladys, standing next to a young man in a pilot’s uniform. Another was of Gladys with her parents. Otherwise, there were very few personal touches. The bedroom, however, had a definite feminine touch about it: everything here was pink. Pink curtains, which opened up to large windows, fluttered in the breeze. The bedcover boasted of pink frills and the small dressing room adjoining the bedroom was filled with cosmetics.

  Patrick said again, “the murderer didn’t leave any clues. He just came, killed, and was gone in an instant, with no one the wiser. It’s a pity that the mobile phone was smashed; we might have got a record of whom Gladys talked to, which might have provided a clue. This is the first time that the murderer has deviated from his pattern, but we’re still no closer to finding him. What time has the doctor put forward?”

  “The murder took place around 7:30 p.m. The security guard says Gladys came home just half an hour before she was killed.”

  “There is a coffee cup which is unwashed in the basin, with a lipstick mark on the rim. The coffee maker seemed used, and neither of them had been cleaned. I think we can surmise that one of the first things Gladys did after coming home was brew herself a cup of coffee. Then, without washing the dishes, she perhaps thought of going for a shower – she had removed her clothes and was just in her bathrobe when she was killed. She had worn a green top and brown skirt to the office, with high-heeled sandals, which she had kicked off and which we found under her bed. We can only guess that she heard a sound or that someone rang, and she went either to open the door or to investigate the source of the noise. The murderer was waiting. He wore gloves. There are no fingerprints on anything, except Gladys’s own.”

  Geoffrey said, “yes. The murderer seems to have become desperate. He’s now killing out of necessity.”

  Patrick nodded. “Let’s talk to the man on duty at the security gate.”

  Luke Wilson came hesitatingly. His arms were folded in front of him defensively. Patrick asked, “were you on duty last night?”

  “Yes,” he said cautiously.

  “Gladys came home at her usual time?”

  “Oh yes. She generally arrives at ten minutes to seven, from the office. She was around ten minutes late.”

  “You see her every day. Did you observe anything unusual about her?”

  “Nothing much, but her manner was abstract; she seemed lost in thoughts of her own. She forgot to greet me as usual. She usually does.”

  “Did any stranger arrive after Gladys did, within the next hour?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m pretty observant and I would have noticed if someone whom I didn’t know entered the building.”

  “Who did arrive?”

  “Many people. They all live in the apartment block and were returning home from work. One or two had guests with them. Otherwise, I knew all of them. They live in this building.”

  Patrick asked, “tell me, is it possible for someone to slip in without being seen?”

  Luke shook his head. “No, that’s not possible. I would have seen if any strange person had entered. Everyone who came in was known to me. Some, who arrived with guests, were familiar to me, at least.”

  “Do you think anyone can enter or leave the apartment building, other than through the main gate?”

  Luke shrugged. “It may be possible to enter through the back gate; there’s no one on duty there, as the gate is no longer in use. It may be easily climbed by an agile person.”

  “Show us this back gate.”

  Luke took them to the back gate. As Luke said, it was not in use and locked from the inside. It was around four feet high and made from wrought iron – hence, not difficult to climb.

  Patrick asked, “Tim, can you climb this gate? I want to time you.”

  Tim ran up the gate, using the iron bars as a foothold, and dropped down on the other side. The whole process took just fifteen seconds. However, Tim received a few bruises especially on the palm of his hand. Patrick observed, “a determined man can easily scale this gate and enter unseen.”

  He examined the ground around the gate. “There’s no evidence of anyone having been here… but what do we have here?” He bent down suddenly and picked up a cigarette butt.

  “Well, someone certainly came this way and quite recently, too. Tim, can you examine the road on the other side?”

  Tim did so, recovering a used tissue paper. He picked up the paper and examined it carefully, but there was no trace of blood on it. He climbed back and handed it to Patrick. “I found this, Sir.”

  Patrick examined the crumpled piece of paper. “It looks like it could have been thrown recently, but we can’t be sure. If someone has been here recently, the purpose could be innocent or devious – we don’t know for sure. Let’s go back and talk to the couple who discovered the body.”

  Matilda and Rodney Watson sat quietly as Patrick asked, “so, you found the body?”

  Matilda nodded. “Yes, but it was completely by accident. We had both been to the movies – we’re movie buffs – and we were returning home. We passed through the gate and headed for H block, where we lived, and when we got down the elevator, we started walking along the corridor to reach our apartment. You can see that, in order to reach our apartment, we have to pass by the front door of Gladys’s apartment. I noticed a trickle of red liquid outside her door. It looked like blood and I panicked. I wanted to check out whether everything was fine, so I rang the bell three times, I think.” She turned to her husband,
“that’s right, around three times?”

  Rodney replied, “I guess so.”

  “Anyway, we received no answer. It was only then that we decided to try the door, and to our surprise, the door opened when we pushed against it. The moment we entered, we saw Gladys. Well, I have never been so shocked in my life. I screamed and screamed and my nerves went to pieces, till Rodney told me to calm down. Then a few other people arrived.”

  “Could you describe the scene?”

  Matilda said, “I can’t describe anything. All that registered in my mind was Gladys, dead, and blood all around. I was too shocked.”

  Rodney said, “yes, Matilda was badly affected; it was no sight for a woman. Gladys was lying on the floor and her robe was half open. Apparently, she was wearing only that robe. Her mouth was agape, as if in shock. Whoever had come, Gladys didn’t expect it.”

  Patrick asked, “did you notice anything else, anything that was different from the usual?”

  Matilda said, “I did notice that the photograph of Gladys with her boyfriend was on the floor.”

  Rodney agreed. “There was also a grey coloured pen lying on the floor, but Gladys was not a disorganized person.”

  “Good. Is there anything else you remember?”

  “No, that’s about all.”

  “You two must have known Gladys well.”

  Matilda nodded. “She was a good neighbour – always helpful. She was a cheerful girl; I’ve very rarely seen her down in the dumps. She could be pretty resourceful, too. There was a time when I was suffering from a toothache and Rodney was out. I called Gladys, she gave me an herbal paste, and my toothache was much better. She even made me save the number of the shop that sold herbal products. When Jane was killed, Gladys was hit hard. She spent one whole evening crying on my shoulder and saying what a good friend Jane was.”

 

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