by J. R. Martin
“You got all of that out of that conversation?”
“Yes. When he’s challenged, he becomes angry. He never wants me to talk to him about his sister. I guess because she is the only thing he has ever had any good feelings about. He doesn’t want me or anyone else, questioning him about her. She’s his weak spot and he knows, that I know that. It enrages him.”
“How long have you dealt with this lunatic?”
“Too long, my friend. Much, much too long.” Ivan answered.
Chapter Three
“Where to now, detective?” Walt asked.
“I’m going to see if Simmons’ sister still lives where she did the last time I spoke with her.”
Taking the motorway out of the city, they were soon in a small suburban town located just on the outskirts of South London. When they reached the light on the main street of Wimbledon, Ivan turned to his left. He drove another ten minutes and stopped in front of 1223 Manchester Ave. He sat looking at the house for a few minutes and then opened his door and walked to the front door.
He knocked gently, as if he dreaded the door being answered. After the second knock, the door opened slowly.
“What do you want Detective Bennett?” The soft voice from just inside the front door asked.
“I want to talk to you about your brother, Ms. Simmons.”
“Go away. I have nothing to say to you.” The voice said, suddenly becoming loud and agitated.
“Ms. Simmons, if you don’t talk to me, I will get a warrant and you will have to come downtown to talk to me at the station. Do you want that?” Ivan asked harshly.
Slowly, the door swung open and a woman stood glaring at the detectives.
“What more do you possibly think you can find out from me?” The woman asked.
“Ms. Simmons, it is vital if you know or think your brother knows anything about the murders in the White Chapel District that you tell me now.”
“What makes you think I would share anything with you?”
“Ms. Simmons, I have observed the relationship you have with your brother, a good number of years now. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you genuinely care for him. I have to admit, when I first met you years ago, I suspected you might be his outside helper. But after observing you for a good six months, I came to know that you encouraged him to not be a part of anything illegal. Unfortunately, he’s never heeded your warnings or suggestions. I feel that you know him as well as I, if not better, and you realize someone is feeding his ego now.”
For a few moments, she glared at Ivan. Then, she invited them inside. Her modest home offered a feeling of warmth and friendliness. By looking at the furnishings and smelling the aroma of good food, one would never guess they were in the home of an evil villain’s kin. Nothing about Grace Simmons even remotely resembled her brother. Not her appearance, nor her mannerisms, nor her surroundings. Everything here appeared normal.
“Tell me what it is you suspect, detective.” Grace stated matter of fact, folding her arms across her chest.
“I suspect he has someone on the outside that is killing the women in the White Chapel District. This someone has a direct link to Garth. He shares with him all the secrets of the killings and together they plot and plan the next move. There is no doubt, that the killer is a copycat of Jack the Ripper. It is, indeed, someone who’s heart is as black as your brother’s.”
“You never have sugar coated anything, have you detective? It takes a great deal of nerve to come into my home and question me, ask for my help, all the while, telling me how evil my brother is.” Grace said.
“Am I telling the truth?” Ivan asked, looking her straight in the eye.
“I must admit Detective; you know my brother well.” Grace said.
“Then, please, Ms. Simmons, if you have a clue, an idea, anything, please tell me so that I can stop these horrible murders.” Ivan all but pleaded.
“Did you check to see whom he has had for visitors?” Grace asked.
“Of course, that was the first thing I did.” Ivan said.
“And I am the only one that signed in?”
“Yes.”
“Then, perhaps it’s someone who works there in the hospital.” Grace offered.
“Believe me, I will look in to all of that, but I was hoping, perhaps you might have an idea of who it could be.” Ivan continued.
“Detective, I know my brother is an evil man that can never be free again. I know he mentally is insane and a threat to society. If I knew he was a part of these murders, I would tell you, but honestly I haven’t a clue as to how he could be, since he never sees the light of day.”
“I know. It seems impossible.” Ivan said, as he rose from the couch and made his way to the door with Walt Graham right behind him.
“I will call again, Ms. Simmons, if I get any new clues or need your help. I thank you for seeing me and for your candid answers.” Ivan smiled.
“You’re welcome, Detective.” Grace Simmons said as she closed the door behind the Scotland Yard Detectives. Then, she walked to the window and ever so slightly pulled back the curtain, just enough that she could see them get in their unmarked car and pull away from her drive.
“Well?” Walt asked.
“Well what?” Ivan answered.
“Well, is she telling us the truth?”
“Yes, Detective, I think she is.” Ivan answered.
“Then it has to be someone he comes in to contact with on a regular basis.” Walt said.
“Perhaps.” Ivan mused, staring out the window.
****
The Detectives arrived back at Scotland Yard headquarters, just as the sun was starting its descent into the western sky. The paintings of gold and pink colors across the skyline were beautiful. To look at the stunning sunset, one would never imagine the black and ugly scenes the men and women who worked from this modern-day structure, dealt with daily.
Ivan glanced at the sunset as he opened the door to his office. He remembered the days he and Eve had sat on their balcony and watched the sunset and marveled at its beauty. In his soul, Ivan felt dead. He no longer enjoyed the beauty of a sunset or anything else. The beauty he had once held in his arms was gone forever and he doubted if he would ever again feel anything was beautiful.
Walt cleared his throat. He knew his partner was in deep thought and hesitated to disturbed him. “I’m going to head home unless you need me for something else.”
“No, that’s fine, go ahead. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Ivan sat at his desk shuffling through papers and looking at all the names they had talked to that day. He laid the papers aside and rubbed his eyes. He was tired, but he dreaded going home. He knew the nightmares would come calling as soon as he went to sleep and he hated that. The only thing he found appealing about sleep now, was, on occasion, he would dream of Eve. But, even then, his dream would be interrupted by the nightmarish warm red blood that oozed from her wound as he held her dying body in his arms.
Ivan locked his desk and prepared to leave his office. As he approached his parked car his gut instinct told him someone was watching him. He glanced around the area but no one was in sight.
“Damn,” he whispered. “I wonder how long this uneasy feeling is going to last.”
He got in his car and for the first time in a long while, he drove home, instead of walking the short distance to his apartment. He decided to stop at the local Deli and pick up a sandwich, that would serve as his supper for the evening.
As Ivan pulled away from the curb, a black sedan across the street pulled out and followed him. Inside the sedan, a man of short statue sat behind the wheel. The street light reflected off his silver eye glasses.
****
As the work day began the changing of the guards, as it were, began. The night detectives left a note on Ivan’s desk where he couldn’t miss it the next morning. In case you missed it on the news this morning, there was another murder in White Chapel last evening.
Iva
n crushed the note in his fist and asked the Desk Sergeant if it was another copycat killing? The Desk Sergeant confirmed that the initial reports indicated it was. Silently cursing, Ivan slammed the crumpled note into the waste basket and starting making plans to visit the murder site. He and Walt would go out there first thing this morning and try to decipher more clues.
Just as Ivan got back to his desk with a cup of coffee, Walt came through the door, huffing and puffing from the obvious walk to the entrance of Scotland Yard.
“I just heard there was another murder in White Chapel last night.” He said.
“Yes, it appears so.” Ivan answered.
“This is getting to be embarrassing,”
“Indeed it is, my friend. Indeed it is. We are going out there this morning and see if anything was different in the MO of this copycat killer.” Ivan stated.
“I’m ready.” Walt said, as he grabbed a donut and a cup of coffee.
“Finish your donut, I’m in no hurry.” Ivan said. “I just want to go over the crime scene with a fine tooth comb. Surely, somewhere there is a clue that has been overlooked.”
“I don’t see how that is possible.” Walt said. “Every time a murder occurs, the area is gone over by forensics. Those guys don’t miss a thing.”
“I know, but, I want to see for myself.” Ivan said.
Walt finished his donut and coffee and the two detectives walked out of Scotland Yard together. Ivan had left the car parked at the curb. They entered the automobile and Ivan made a u turn and headed toward the White Chapel District, in London’s east end district.
When he reached the White Chapel District he pulled the car over and parked on Dorset Street. It was in this area that ‘Jack the Ripper,’ had killed eleven, prostitutes. Yet, the murders remained unsolved till this day. Ivan was determined this was not going to happen again on his watch. Whoever this mythical or human being was, this time he was capturing him.
He and Walt got out of the unmarked Scotland Yard car and walked to the crime scene area roped off by yellow police tape. Ivan raised the tape and walked under it followed by Walt. Forensics was still collecting evidence.
“Have you found any evidence that remotely resembles a clue?” Ivan asked.
“We’ve collected a lot of evidence, whether any of it produces a clue will be your department, detective. “ Marsha Hart a well-educated and thoroughly capable forensics expert said, smiling.
Ivan looked at her sternly and asked, “Marsha, Marsha, Marsha,” in true theatrical tone, “What caused these deaths?”
“It appears, at first glance, without having studied the entire evidence; this woman was strangled and her throat cut and then cut into pieces and thrown in the dumpster, is that clear enough, detective.” Marsha replied.
“Yes, it is, my dear. In your opinion, is this like all the other murders you’ve collected evidence for in this area?” Ivan questioned.
“You mean is this classic, ‘Jack the Ripper’ Modus Operandi? Yes, detective, it is.” Marsha answered.
Chapter Four
Ivan and Walt drove back to headquarters without much conversation. Each detective was going over in his mind, what they had witnessed and what the forensic experts had told them. Finally, Ivan broke the silence by saying,
“Marsha Hart is one of the best forensic experts around. If she can’t decipher the clues as to the killer, I doubt we will be able to.”
Walt just nodded his agreement.
When they entered Scotland Yard, Ivan found a note on his desk. It read, Grace Simmons wants you to call her.
Picking up his phone he dialed the number.
“Hello.”
“Grace, this is detective Bennett, you wanted me to call?”
“Yes, detective, I was talking to a friend of mine today who lives on a farm about five miles out of town. He told me he had made a startling discovery.” Grace said.
“And, what is this startling discovery?” Ivan inquired.
“I’d rather you ask him that question, detective.” Grace continued.
“Fine, give me his name and number.”
“It’s Simon Éclair. He lives off the county road of Madison, east of town, first house on the right.” Grace finished.
“Thank you Ms. Simmons, rest assured I will follow up on your tip.” Ivan said and hung up the phone.
“That was Grace Simmons, giving you a tip? I do not believe this.” Walt said, smiling.
“Yes, she says a friend of hers, who owns a farm found something very disturbing.” Ivan answered.
“And she wouldn’t share what it was?” Walt asked.
“Nope, said she wanted me to drive out there and talk to him myself. So, come on, we are going to take a short drive in the country.” Ivan said as he walked out the door.
****
The countryside was beautiful as the two detectives made the drive to Grace Simmons, friend’s farm. The green trees and abundance of grass told London’s countryside had received adequate rain and the crops should be very good this season. Ivan was thinking as he turned in the drive to the farm.
When Ivan stopped the car an elderly man dressed in blue overalls came out of the farm house to meet them. Ivan and Walt got out of the car and extended their hands for a handshake as they introduced themselves.
“I’m Detective Ivan Bennett and this is my partner, detective Walt Graham.”
“Glad to meet you, detectives, and my name is Simon Éclair. I’m a friend to Grace Simmons.” The elderly man declared.
“She tells me you have made an unusual discovery, here on your farm?” Ivan asked.
“Only, if you consider finding a human skull unusual.” The farmer smiled.
“A human skull, oh my, that certainly is unusual.” Ivan replied. “Where did you find it?”
“In the pig pen.” He answered.
Shocked, Walt blurted out, “In the pig pen, sir?”
“Yes, indeed. Come with me and I’ll show you the exact spot.” Simon said as he turned and started toward the barn.
The two detectives followed Simon Éclair with much anticipation. What in the world was a human skull doing in Mr. Éclair’s pig pen?
When they reached the barn they walked around to the side and climbed up on the fence that housed the pigs inside. Pointing to the far corner, Mr. Éclair said, “Over there is where I found the skull.”
Following the farmers pointing finger, both Ivan and Walt gazed at the corner of the pig pen covered in pig mud. It smelled exactly like what it was. Ivan asked, “Did you find anymore bones, Mr. Éclair?”
“No, sir, nothing but the skull. Come on in the barn and I’ll show it to you.”
They climbed down off the fence and followed Simon into the barn. He opened one of the tack room doors and walked over to a shelf where he picked up a skull, still covered in pig mud. He handed it to the detectives.
Ivan accepted the skull and looked at it intently. Then he handed it over to Walt who reluctantly took it.
Staring down at the muddy skull Walt asked, “Do you think it’s one of those girls?
“Well, it’s certainly not one of the girls that we have found. They are all in the morgue. This has got to be one we didn’t know about.” Ivan said.
They thanked Mr. Éclair and assured him they would let him know the outcome of the evidence he had found. The two detectives left the farm with the skull wrapped up in a tow sack Mr. Éclair had furnished.
“What are you thinking, Ivan? I see your wheels turning.” Walt asked.
“I’m thinking the first thing I’m going to do is find out if Mr. Éclair has declared any of his family or friends missing.”
“Surely you don’t think that old man had anything to do with this?” Walt stammered.
“Walt, I examine everything, whatever is left is evidence.” Ivan said.
“True Sherlock Holmes reasoning.” Walt smiled.
Ivan didn’t answer as he headed straight to the morgue and his friend, Marsha Hart.
<
br /> ****
Marsha Hart‘s face had a feeling of puzzlement as she examined the skull Ivan and Walt had brought in. The first thing she was going to do was wash the pig stink off, and then attempt to get some kind of DNA from the bones.
“I’ll let you know what I find.” Marsha said.
“Thanks,” Ivan said as he departed the morgue.
“The report on the girl killed last night should be out tomorrow.” Marsha advised.
“Thanks,” Walt said as the two detectives left.
This mystery just kept getting deeper and deeper with no for sure answers. Ivan was visibly disturbed that he couldn’t get a handle on the case. He usually was relatively quick with answers. But, not this time. This time, the more he learned, the less he knew.
“Walt, let’s get back to headquarters and start research on Simon Éclair. I want to know how long he’s been in this city, county, country. I want to know everything about him.” Ivan said.
“I think that’s a great idea.” Walt confirmed. “I’m curious about that, as well.”
****
The clock was telling Ivan it was nine o’clock at night and he and Walt should have been off duty hours ago. But, the minute they found out one thing that would lead to another and they couldn’t seem to lay the project concerning Simon Éclair down, and move on.
Finally, Walt said, “I need to get home before my wife divorces me. I haven’t been home for supper in weeks now. She reminds me every day.”
“Oh, sure, go on. I’ll take care of this, at least as far as I’m able.” Ivan said assuring him.
Rising, Walt put on his suit jacket and bid the office good bye. He walked out into the damp night air just as Big Ben struck the half hour. He got into the Scotland Yard vehicle and made his way home over the wet streets caused by the dense London fog.
It’s a good night for murder. He thought and then laughed at himself. He knew it was because they had this baffling case before them that no one had been able to crack. It resembled a dime store novel to him, where some author’s imagination leads from one event to the next. He actually took a deep breath of relief when he finally arrived home. Gladys’s had all the lights in the house on, or else the kids had gone through switching them on as they roamed from one side of the house to the other. He wondered if they were ever going to get grown enough not to do that. Probably not, he reasoned.