Date: Wed, 1 Aug 2012 08:33:53 +0200 From: Amy Redek Subject: The Square Circle. Part 4 This story is for persons of eighteen years or over. All comments, good or bad, are welcome and all will be answered. Part Four Penny duly landed at Heathrow on Friday and was soon back in her house in Knightsbridge. It was no different to any other homecoming. Her husband wasn't at home, though she didn't expect him to be this time, if the girls' had done their business, because he had never really been at home any other time she had been away. He'd always had the excuse that he'd had an important client that he couldn't let down. But he could always let me down, was the bitter thought of Penny. Though this time she could excuse him for not being there. In fact she welcomed the fact that he wasn't there. That, if all had gone well, he wouldn't have been able to. So it was now just a matter of waiting till the police arrived to break the bad news to her, the news that he wouldn't be coming home. With the taxi driver placing her bags in the hall and accepting the generous tip, she went into the kitchen and mixed herself a strong drink and sat down at the table. The police arrived just after ten the next morning to tell her of her husband's accident. She did her upper class act of keeping an equally stiff lip, and concealing her true feelings at the news of the tragic accident that had befallen him. `That's a true sign of good breeding,' said the young constable that accompanied the W.P.C. `Taking the news of her husband's death like that. Tight lipped and not showing her true emotions. That's class!' The W.P.C. looked askance at him, keeping her own council of thoughts to herself. Two days later, she checked her E-mail and saw that she had a message from number one, Anne. It read, "Money in. What next? Same message sent number three. Will monitor daily." Penny sent back, "Suggest we meet at flat next Thursday at noon," and sent one to Jane and Francis too. They had already prepared for this and had visited several warehouses that had been converted into storage cubicles of different sizes that could be rented by the month and had selected those that they could use. Penny was waiting in the flat for them as they all had agreed to the meeting and Anne got a kiss on the cheek being the first to arrive. `Isn't it wonderful?' Anne gushed. `Six hundred and eighty thousand pounds! I can't wait to tell the others,' and she gave Penny a big hug. They went through to the kitchen and had a glass of wine as they prepared a snack lunch for the others before they arrived. Which they did, both at the same time. It was a peck on the cheeks as they met and Penny led them through to the kitchen where they kissed and hugged Anne at the wonderful news when she said how much she had received. More wine was poured out and they all sat down at the kitchen table. `The square circle meets again. Before you say anything, I've brought you all back a souvenir from Paris,' Penny said as she passed over to them, a small flat box each. They eagerly opened up the exquisitely done up parcels to reveal that they had a silk head scarf each. `It's gorgeous,' Anne exclaimed. `Look, they're all the same,' she said as she compared it to Jane's. `So's mine,' Penny said, pleased that they liked the small gifts she had brought. `Now, how did it go with William?' `I was pretty scared in the crush at the station,' Anne said, `but felt exhilarated afterwards. It was pandemonium trying to get out from the platform without being noticed, and the reaction didn't set in till we went and had a drink.' `Well they seem to have bought it, for the newspapers report it as an accident,' Jane said, `but we'll have to wait for the coroner's inquest. How do you feel in yourself Penny?' `I feel wonderful! You will too when we, er, set you free,' Penny replied. `Now let's eat lunch and we can talk about what's next.' They bustled about to get the prepared meal from the fridge and replenished their glasses as Jane spoke again. `Now we must start the next stages in respect of the money that Anne now has and what you Francis and Penny will shortly be getting. Here's what we do,' Jane started, picking up her fork and taking small mouthfuls of food whilst explaining to the others. After lunch, they would go to one of the storage places they had selected, and Anne was to ask to rent one of their small containers. The explanation being that she wanted to keep some of her recently deceased mother's effects in a safe place. Penny passed across the rental agreement she had acquired plus the birth certificate for Anne to use as identification. The name on it was for Ruth Richards, and she had the flat rental papers to show as her living address. Anne was then, at a time of her choosing, to go to her bank and start to withdraw the money out over the next two weeks and put this money in a suitcase to be placed in the depository that she had rented. When this was done, she was to pass over the rental agreement and birth certificate for Penny to keep till either her or Francis needed it next. Anne was to keep the key to the lock-up on her house key ring, and not to lose it. So with lunch over, they washed up the things and put them away before they went off to the depository selected, passing over the wig from Francis to Anne to put on before entering. Everything went off without a hitch, and the papers were signed and Anne said that she would be bringing some things along later. The address was noted from the rental agreement as being just off the King's Road, and the phone number. The next step was to stop and buy four suitcases for the carrying and transferring of the money from the banks. With this done, they stopped at a wine bar for a drink, and Jane said to the others that they should meet in two week's time, same time at the flat. Anne was to have got the insurance money from her bank and placed in the lock-up by that time. Penny would then tell them of the plan that she had devised and put forward for her husband and their respective roles in its execution. Also that they would set up the other depositories at the same time. They parted for their respective homes and the following day, Anne started to make her withdrawals of the money from the bank. The manager was much distressed at her taking so much out of the account and she was very apprehensive at taking this money home. Jane also began making her enquiries about taking her mini cruise during the three day race meeting at Warwick. In the time frame, Anne cleared the insurance money from her account and with it all packed into the suitcase, placed it in the depository on her way to the flat for their next meeting. She was the first again at the flat where Penny was waiting and only arrived a few minutes before the other two. `Cheers,' said Jane lifting her glass of wine to salute the others seated round the table. `Just my one to go now. I'm all butterflies now. How are you going to do it? The Warwick meeting is only two weeks away.' `That is what you are not going to know!' said Penny most emphatically. `It has to be a surprise to you when you are told, so that part we can't tell you. We'll talk about it after you've left to go and get your tickets for the cruise you wanted to take. Is the insurance money in the lock up Anne?' `Yes. The bank manager didn't like me taking it all out,' she said with a nervous laugh. `Okay, let's have lunch so that Jane can go off after while we discuss the plan I've devised.' So with lunch sorted out and eaten, Jane left and told Anne and Francis of what they would be doing in respect of Jane's husband. After this, they went out and visited three more depositories and booked the smallest they had, Penny putting on a wig to rent out one for Jane. It was a successful day all told and it was agreed that it was a go for the last day of the Warwick race meeting. At the inquest of William Swithers, Penny, dressed in mourning, sat through the proceedings and bowed her head at the coroner's verdict of accidental death. * It had taken some time to find the right location for the seeing to of Michael Pound. The ideal place that fitted her plan was a high rise hotel just outside of Heathrow Airport. It was a three day meeting and Jane had sailed on her cruise two days before it opened. She had given Penny some tips on horses to follow at the meeting and this is what she had to rely on. Penny played a flirtatious part over the three days, losing small amounts to Michael Pound, but hitting him with big bets on the tips she had. They paid off rather handsomely. By the second day, she had him meeting her in the bar after the racing for drinks and she kept teasing him about how much money she was going to win off him. He tried to bed her on that day, without success, but on the last day, she said that he could get his money's worth back if he would take her to heaven. `And just where is this ideal heaven you are looking for? Michael Pound asked Penny in the bar before the start of this last day's racing. Penny in not only taking tips on the horses running at Warwick, but on also just the kind of women he picked up. The mode of dress and slightly overdone make-up, the skirt being a bit too short and the blouse or whatever, a size too small and definitely not to wear a bra. She sipped at the drink he had bought for her and smiled coyly over the rim. `The Heathrow Hilton is on the way home. It's high and I like to see and hear the power of jet planes taking off. The throb of the power as it sits on the tarmac, it slowly building up until the brakes are released and it begins to move faster and faster before exploding in one final surge as it takes off, whisking one away to heaven.' He caught the analogy and couldn't wait until the meeting was over to be that aircraft and take her to heaven. Much to his annoyance, Penny still managed to get four winners out of six, blowing him a kiss each time she collected her winnings. In spite of this, he'd still made a good profit out of the meeting and now in the bar after the last race, he was anxious to get going to the hotel where he could at least get something in return for the money Penny had won off him. He eyed the cleavage of her full breasts and was already aroused with his thoughts for the night to come. They had already collected their bags from their respective hotels in Warwick and with his assistant driving, made their way towards the M40. She had deliberately dallied in the bar at the racecourse so that when they arrived at the hotel she had chosen, it was dark. She had allowed him to play with her breasts in the back of the car just to get him most anxious to bed her. As they pulled into the car park of the hotel outside of the airport, Penny was relieved to see her car still there where she had parked it and that Francis and Anne were inside it. Michael's assistant got her suitcase out of the car and was told to go off home for he would get a taxi in the morning. He began to walk to the hotel, when she stopped him, really waiting for his car to leave the hotel car park. `You go in first Michael,' she said, `and book a room as high as you can get. The higher we will be to heaven just adds to the thrill and excitement. I'll follow and wait by the lift.' Francis had already gotten out of the car and began to walk towards Penny as he departed. `Quick. Put the case in the car and come into the lobby and the lifts as quick as you can,' she said and Francis almost ran to the car with Penny's case, Anne having got out had the boot open ready. They then quickly followed Penny into the hotel though staying quite a few steps behind her. Penny saw him checking in at the desk and went over to the lifts to wait for him. Such was his eagerness to get her up to the room, he never noticed that she didn't have her suitcase with her. He hurried over to the lifts where she was waiting once he'd got his key and didn't take any notice of the two women that had followed and stood behind and entered the lift after he and Penny had got inside. `What room are we in darling?' Penny asked him, taking his arm in hers. `Six two four,' he said and Penny looked over his shoulder and saw Francis give a nod. `What floor do you want?' Penny asked the other two in the lift with them. `Seventh please,' Francis answered and so Penny pressed the floors six and seven. Her and Michael got out at the sixth floor and walked slowly down the carpeted corridor to their room. He opened the door and she went inside with him following, closing the door behind him. Penny went straight to the French windows and opened them to the miniscule balcony that she knew was there. `This is as high as I could get,' he said as she looked out to see that they were off to the side of the main entrance and above the car park. `Perfect Michael, just perfect,' she said as she turned from the window and went to the mini bar and got out a small whisky and emptied it into a glass which she handed to him. As she was dressed a bit more sombrely in travelling clothes, he took no notice that she was wearing gloves. He took the drink and sat down on the small chair the room provided as she went off towards the door. `Where are you going?' he asked, sipping at his drink. `To put the Do Not Disturb sign on the outside of the door,' she said, pulling it off the inside door handle and then opened the door. She saw Anne and Francis outside as she slipped the notice on the outside and mouthed the word five to them and was careful not to close the door properly. She walked back to the bed and pulled the top covers right back and began to take her clothes off. `Come and get your winnings now,' she said as she finished and laid herself out completely naked, her head towards to window. He quickly gulped down the rest of his drink and began taking his clothes off at seeing her lying there waiting for him. He moved round as he took them off and had his back to the small passage way from the door to the room and when naked himself, up and ready for action, paused for a moment before covering her body with his. He didn't see, but Penny did over his shoulder, Anne and Francis move into the room and he had actually entered her when he was suddenly seized by the arms and roughly pulled up off and out of Penny. `What the hell?' he spluttered at this sudden intrusion as he was pulled to his feet. That was all he had time to say for Penny was up just as quick and drove her fist into his midriff which blew all the air out of his body. He began to double over as he was hustled out from that side of the bed and was then suddenly propelled towards the open French windows. He couldn't see it coming, being doubled up as he was, only being held up by the two pair of hands either side of him that moved him across the carpeted room. He was still trying to get some breath into his lungs when the run stopped and the hands let go of him with a push and he suddenly was at and over the small balcony rail. He didn't scream for he hadn't the breath as he hurtled through the air for six stories and died instantly with a broken neck as he landed on the tarmac of the car park, fortunately for the car owners below, he landed between two of them. He was still in the air as Penny stripped off the lower bed sheet and taking a clean fresh one from the plastic bag that Anne had carried in. One that Penny had stolen a week ago and now began remaking the bed. Francis came and took over with Anne for Penny to get dressed. She checked over the bed that it looked perfect as Francis put the sheet she had lain on in the plastic bag. Anne looked wistfully at his bookmakers bag that she knew was full of money. She would have loved to have taken it but it had to be left behind. It took them three minutes to be out of the room and they slowly, one at a time, crossed the lobby and escaped out to where Penny's car was parked. She opened the doors for them but still had to move along the parked cars to find his body and make sure he was dead. It only took one look at the angle of his head to know that it was so before going back and getting into the car, drove them off out for London. Michael Pound's body wasn't found till eight o'clock next morning by a guest departing. Police and an ambulance were summonsed and two hours later, his body was in the morgue. The autopsy, three hours later confirmed that he had died from a broken neck due to a fight with gravity. The body contained a quantity of alcohol and it was assumed that this was the cause of him falling off the sixth floor balcony. Accidental death was noted by the police. Suicide had been ruled out for his bag showed that he had made enough money. Murder too, for the money would surely have been stolen if this was the case. Jane broke down into tears when she was informed of his death after the return from her cruise, silently rejoicing for only she knew the secret of the money he had been hiding from the tax man. The very next week Francis was paid out her insurance money which a week later she removed from the bank in cash and placed in her lock up in its suitcase. Two months later, Penny received hers and another month saw Jane get hers. All being lodged in their respective depositories lockers. Soon they would get together for the share out minus expenses of course. But things took a turn for the worse before this could happen. * `I'm frightened,' came the voice over the phone. `I think I'm being followed.' `But...' `No names or numbers,' came the scared voice. `Look. We must meet and talk. You know the station two up from where you normally get the train for London?' `Yes.' `Well, from the left as you come out, about two hundred yards along there's a bridge. Meet me there in two hours. I'll be watching to see that you aren't being followed. Wear a dark coat.' `But...' `See you in two hours,' and the line went dead. Puzzled and alarmed, did as she was told and got out a dark top coat and making sure the front door was locked, left the house and hurried to the station. She hurried because she didn't know the times of the trains in that direction and so would rather be early than late. Besides, it would give her a chance to see if anybody was following her too. She bought her return ticket to Edgewood station and sat down on the platform and fretted. She sat there for forty minutes with all kinds of thoughts running through her mind, none of which made sense and was relieved when the train finally pulled in. She got off at Edgewood station and only saw one other person alight from the train and was thankful that they turned right on leaving the station. She hurried off to the left towards the bridge where her friend was waiting for her. The woman on the bridge watched her leave the station and come up to the bridge and approached to where she was standing almost on the opposite side. `Did anyone follow you?' she gasped to her waiting friend, slightly out of breath for hurrying. `No, but I think you were followed, look!' She turned her head to look back along the way she had come and didn't see the fist coming that crashed into her jaw. The blow rendered her almost unconscious and she staggered back to the wall of the bridge and was then held upright by her assailant. She was unaware of the hand going through the pockets of her coat, or of the handbag pulled from her grasp. It was only when the rings were being pulled from her left hand finger that she started to move but was hit again. She was roughly turned round so that her face lay against the cold damp bricks of the bridge wall and felt her legs being grasped and she was lifted up. She tried to get her brain in gear as her upper body was lying across the top of the parapet and realised that things were going wrong for her. She didn't have much time to try and reason why for her ankles were suddenly grasped and lifted up so that the whole of her body went over the top. She bounced on the metal shield above the electrified wire that passed below it and then touched it. Body being earthed, there was a big blue flash and she died instantly from being electrocuted. Her body then fell down onto the track as the other figure on the bridge, picked up the handbag and made her way to the station. She calmly walked out onto the platform with her return ticket she had already purchased some hours before and watched as the nonstop express roared through before her train came. The contents of the handbag were slowly disposed of, the empty bag finally finished up in a skip. The rings had been dropped down various drains and any papers were later cut up and flushed down the toilet. The only thing kept was the key to the depository locker. * It was just getting light when the motorman of a train coming up from London saw a bundle on the opposite track and when he stopped at Edgewood station, told the station foreman of it about fifty yards the other side of the bridge. After this train had pulled out to continue its journey, the station foreman went down onto the tracks and walked along the line on the opposite side. He knew what he was going to find later when he saw the severed foot beside the line just below the bridge and only approached the bundle close enough to assume rightly as it happened, that it was indeed the body of a woman. He hurried back to the station and called the police and informed the railway's control centre that he had a body on the line and so the signal lights went to red on that sector of the line. It caused disruption but it couldn't be helped. Not only did the police turn up but an ambulance as well and there were four policemen and two paramedics soon scrambling down the embankment on the far side of the bridge to find that it was indeed a woman. One policeman was sick on the spot when he saw the damage done to a human face after being dragged over fifty yards by a train on the rough stones and sleepers. Half an hour later they had police photographers taking pictures of not only the body but of the severed foot and other pictures of the scene before the paramedics were allowed to remove the body from the track. It was only when they went to move it did they find that the left arm had been torn from the torso and it wasn't to be found even though two constables walked nearly three miles up the track and back again. It was decided that all trains that had passed along that line in the last twenty four hours be checked and it wasn't until five o'clock that evening that the severed left arm was found wedged up in the bogie wheels of a carriage of the London express. Three hours later it was reunited with the rest of the body in the morgue, labelled as an unidentified Caucasian female person of middle years. The autopsy would be left till the next day. Meanwhile, during the day at about the same time as the body was being removed from the railway line, a suitcase was removed from one depository locker to be placed alongside an identical one in another depository. * `I'm frightened,' came the same whispered voice over the phone that night. `I tried contacting...no, no names or numbers. I think I'm being watched and maybe followed. I've given them the slip to phone you from a phone box.' `What's happened?' came the anguished question. `I don't know,' the voice wailed from the other end. `We got to meet to sort this out, please, I need help.' `Where are you?' was the crisp reply. `I daren't say over the phone. Do you remember the viaduct where we stopped once because of the lovely view?' `Yes.' `Meet me there in four hours time. We've got to sort this out and see if we went wrong somewhere.' `Why can't we meet at...' `No! No names please, I begging you, please come,' the voice at the other end of the phone pleaded. `Okay, four hours time.' `Wear something dark for it'll be night time. You'll be harder to follow if that's the case.' The line went dead and she thought that something must be wrong for her to be panicky like this and went and put on a pair of stout walking shoes for she knew she would have to walk for nearly half an hour to reach the viaduct for the meeting point. There were no lights on this stretch of road and it was only lit by starlight as she approached the rendezvous and could just ascertain the solitary figure there waiting for her. She quickened her pace and was soon up close to her. `Now tell me what's caused this panic? You sounded so...so distraught.' Tell me you weren't followed,' she begged. `No, I wasn't.' `Then who is that?' The same trick being pulled as at the railway bridge. Of course she turned her head to look and was hit in the same way. Only this time, the blow knocked her round and so that she was already half over the stone parapet. Again the pockets were divested of what they contained for she hadn't been carrying a handbag. Keys and things came out to fall to the floor and like before, her wedding ring and engagement ring were pulled from her finger before she was lifted up and thrown over for the five hundred foot drop down into the gorge below. Retrieving everything, the assailant then silently disappeared into the darkness and next day, another suitcase was removed from its depository to be added to the other two. The body in the ravine wasn't found for four days. It had only been spotted by chance by some ramblers that had paused on the viaduct to look at the scenery when foxes were seen below. They were noticed because they are known to be nocturnal scavengers and it was of much interest to see them in broad daylight. It was soon apparent that what they were chewing and fighting over was a human body. It was both a hazardous operation as well as being a grisly one for the people who had the task of retrieving the body from the gorge. Four days at the mercy of foxes as well as other animals, it was hardly recognisable as being human. The face, hands, feet and the internal organs had been torn from the body and even the pathologist was revolted at what was presented to him. An open verdict was given and the body finished up in the morgue as an unidentified female. Before this happened, the next day after the death of this woman, another phone call was made. `I can't stand much more of this,' the hysterical voice over the phone blurted out when the receiver was picked up. `I've moved from hotel to hotel in London for I know they're onto me.' `Who?' `I don't know,' she wailed. `You're the only one I've been able to contact. Please come and get me. Wear the Parisian scarf so that I will recognise you.' It was a heartfelt plea that she just had to respond to and noted down the hotel in North London and immediately put her outer coat on and with the head scarf as requested, set off. The hotel itself had been carefully reconnoitred, one of many over several weeks to find a means of what was about to happen. It was an old, early Victorian mansion that had been converted into an hotel. The huge room had been subdivided into single rooms, it being made clear by the fact of the ceiling rose that had been the centre piece of a hanging chandelier was no longer in the middle of the room but off to one side. It was this that had attracted her attention for the hook that had held the long lost chandelier was still in place. She had booked into this room having surveyed them over a period of weeks, the day before she made the phone call. Now with her third victim on the way made her preparations. A chair was placed under this hook and one end of a Parisian scarf was tied to the hook and pulled until it was tight and taut. With a small sharp knife this was then frayed close up to the hook until it parted. A noose was now fashioned of the other end and put to one side with a screwdriver pushed through the knot before she sat down to wait for her visitor to arrive. She had been given the room number and told not to stop at the desk but come straight up to the room where her killer waited. She was very calm as she sat there and waited for nearly two hours before there came a tentative knock at the door. She quickly got up and went and opened it and hustled the visitor inside. `Thank God you came,' she said, pushing her into the room in front of her. `Now what's all this cloak and dagger stuff about?' the visitor asked as she took off her scarf only to have the other one with the noose slipped over her head. She didn't say any more for the tightening noose cut off her vocal cords as the screwdriver was twisted and she was pushed in the middle of her back, driving her down onto her knees. Then with the other woman behind and on top, bore her down onto the carpet as the tourniquet was tightened and tightened with every twist of the screwdriver, choking and rupturing the muscles of her neck. She struggled as her face was pushed down to the carpet, her fingers clawed at the carpet as her life was choked out of her with the knee of her assailant in the middle of her back as the noose strangled her. The killer stayed on her back for a full five minutes before moving off and checking for a pulse. Without finding one, finally pulled the screwdriver out of the knot and after putting it in her pocket, pulled the dead body beneath the ceiling rose that had the other end of the scarf still attached to it. The only chair in the room was knocked over and then with a piece of stationery paper from a drawer placed on the floor, then carefully with a toothpick she cleaned the nails of the victim that had clawed at the carpet. The miniscule and invisible fibres were cleaned from the nails onto the paper that was then carefully folded and put into her coat pocket. Standing back to survey the scene, she scuffed the carpet where the fingers had been and satisfied, put on the wig from the drawer and donned her own Parisian head scarf and left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. * * * The phone in the car bleeped and the passenger picked up the handset and triggered the call. `Moss.' `Er, sorry to bother you sir, but I knew you was in Camden and thought you might like to just check in with a reported suicide up there.' the call had come through from the response officer in Scotland yard. Detective Inspector Moss with Detective Constable Twist driving, had just finished visiting the site of a warehouse break in and were on their way back to the yard. `Okay,' he sighed. `Give me the address.' he repeated the location for the benefit of Twist who turned at the next corner and they pulled up outside the hotel two minutes later. `Bloody hell, that was quick,' said the Medical examiner coming over and stopping by the car as Moss and Twist got out. `I was expecting one of the nerds, not the top one.' `We try to be of service however low the crime,' Moss replied. `Crime? It's a suicide,' the examiner said. `How astute of you to ascertain that without seeing the body,' Moss replied and only got a grunt to that response as they went into the hotel. The manager was there, wringing his hands and quickly showed them up to the room. `Who else has been in the room?' Moss asked of the manager. `No one sir, except the maid who found the body,' he answered. `Is she still here?' `Yes sir. We didn't move her.' `The maid I meant!' `Yes sir, an' a right state she's in.' `Get a statement later Twist,' Moss said as they went into the room. The medical examiner knelt down by the body and felt at the neck for a pulse first before putting the palm of his hand flat on her bare arm. He'd noted the knotted scarf round her neck and also the frayed end that he held in his hand, glancing up at the ceiling to see the other end tied up to the hook. Moss had also noted the last two facts. `Dead,' the examiner said laconically. `Rough guess, twelve hours. Know more after an autopsy.' `Okay Twist. Get a statement from the maid,' he said as his eyes swept round the room. Bed not slept in, no sign of any luggage nor of a handbag. Did she just walk in and hang herself? He opened the small wardrobe to find it empty as were all the drawers in the room, nothing. He went out and downstairs to speak to the manager. `Can I see the register?' he asked and turned the book round before it was offered. `When did she book in?' he asked as he scanned down the page till he found the room number against her name. `Yesterday. Yesterday afternoon. I signed her in.' `Miss or Mrs, for the name is illegible.' Moss had noticed that she hadn't been wearing any rings on her left hand, but that didn't mean a thing nowadays. `I don't know sir,' he said, wringing his hands again. `Did she have any baggage?' `No sir. We get many people who when only staying for one night don't have any luggage.' `Was she a hooker?' `I don't know. I've never seen her before.' `How did she pay? Cash, cheque, credit card? `Cash sir.' Moss sighed at this. No luggage, pays cash, probably a false name, the hall marks of a suicide. `Okay. The room's to stay sealed until forensics have been over it. Twist!' he called out and the constable, his side kick came over. `Get onto forensics to check the room out, prints and all the rest.' `Yes sir,' he said and pulled his mobile out of his pocket and got onto control. The ambulance men came into the hotel's small lobby then and stopped when they saw Moss. The medical examiner came down the stairs and went over to Moss. `Can they take her away, I've finished here?' he asked. Moss waved his hand in assent. `Let me know the result of your probing,' Moss said as he signalled to Twist to follow him. `We've got better things to do than suicides,' he said to Twist when they got back into the car, and yet, he had this nagging feeling inside of him about this and pushed it to the back of his mind to wait until he had the autopsy report. This took two days to land on his desk and cutting through the medical jargon, it said the woman had died of strangulation consistent with an attempted hanging. But still he had this nagging doubt. He'd seen something there in that room but couldn't put his finger on what it was that was making him uncomfortable about the report. It was another two days and Moss was just trying to finish off his report of a warehouse break-in when he knew he was missing one statement. `Where's that security guards statement?' he asked Twist. `Here. I haven't finished my notes to go with it,' he said. `Well how long is it going to take?' `How long's a piece of string?' Twist fired back at him. How long is a piece of string! How long is a piece of cloth and he knew then what had been bothering him. `Saunders!' he roared out and the heads of people at other desks reared up at his bellow. One young WPC got up and almost ran to where he was sitting. `How tall are you?' he barked out. `Er...er...five foot eight sir,' Woman Police Constable Rachel Saunders stammered out. Moss flipped open the file on the suicide and noted that she was five foot nine. `Twist!' he shouted out again. `Yes sir?' he replied, only sitting one desk away. `Get that scarf of the suicide and meet me down at the car. You,' he said to Saunders, `come with me.' he strode out of the large room with WPC Saunders following him as Twist went off to find the scarf that his boss wanted. Moss was sitting in the front seat of the car with Saunders in the back, his fingers drumming on the dash as Twist came hurrying out of the building and got into the driving seat. Moss took the scarf and passed it back to Saunders. `The hotel in Camden,' he ordered, and sat back as Twist drove out of the yard and went North. Thirty minutes later, the three of them entered the hotel. The room had been reopened but it didn't stop Moss from getting the room opened. `Out!' he said to the manager and shut the door behind him. `Now get that chair Twist and place it underneath that hook in the ceiling.' He did as he was told. `Okay Saunders, the scarf,' and he held out his hand and took it from hers and alarmed her when he placed the noose of it, for it was still knotted as it was found, round her neck. `Now get up onto the chair. Help her Twist.' He did by taking hold of her arm and helped her to stand up on the chair. `Now Saunders, take the free end and reach up to the hook. Up as far as you can reach.' She did as she was told and only then did Twist give a gasp for he realised what his governor had spotted and he hadn't, for with Saunders being of a comparable height to the suicide, there was no way she could have reached the hook in the ceiling. Her arm was outstretched with the frayed end in her hand but she was still a good twelve inches short. `How long is a piece of string,' Moss muttered. `twelve inches too short. Thank you Saunders, you can get down now. Twist, we have a murder on our hands!' * Moss sat at his desk and quickly wrote out a one page report and took it along to the Chief Superintendant. `Yes, I agree, it does appear to be murder. Okay. You handle it with Twist and you can have four WPC's and two constables.' the Superintendant said. `Six? I need at least ten sir,' Moss said. `Six is all I can spare. You'll just have to make do.' `Yes sir,' Moss said a little sullenly and left the office. `Saunders!' he called out when at his office door. `Yes sir,' she said as she hurried up to him. `Find three other loose women and meet me in the incident room. Twist! Get two other constables. Not Perkins.' `Perkins has been returned to uniform duties sir,' Twist replied. `Thank God for that. Round up two, incident room,' he said as he went into his office and picked up the autopsy report along with his own and went to where he would be working on this case. In the incident room, he pinned up two photos of the dead woman and wrote on the board the name and address of the hotel in Camden as people began to file into the room. He waited until they were all in the room before closing the door. `From an apparent suicide we've moved on to a murder,' he began. `A white Caucasian female. Mid to late twenties, early thirties. That's all we have apart from her fingerprints. Twist, you check these to see if she has a record, and teeth. Saunders. Get copies made of the dental chart from the autopsy report and pass them round. I want these checked with every dentist in London.' `Do you know how many dentists there are in London sir?' a constable asked. `No Trevis, but I'm sure you're about to tell me,' he said in a honeyed tone. `There's at least five thousand if not more. If they all have just two hundred patients, that's a million people, sir.' `Well you can halve that because of males and halve it again for the women because of the age. So you are only looking at a quarter of a million. Also judging by the influx of foreign nationals, the total count will be far less. Three fillings will make it easier even more, so the sooner you divide up the city and check, the sooner it will be done.' `So sayeth the Lord,' Trevis muttered low so that Moss couldn't hear but those closest to him chuckled. `Could we also have a photo fit to show,' one WPC asked. `That might speed things up too sir.' `Right Wright. Get hold of the police artist and pop along to the morgue. Tomkins. You can go to the hotel and get another statement from the manager. I want as accurate a description you can get of the woman who checked in for I feel that this was the murderer, luring her victim to the hotel. Wallis?' `Yes sir?' a WPC answered. `Check missing persons. Right, that will keep you all busy for a day or two, get going,' and so they all filed out to begin the task of finding out the name of the murdered woman. Moss went back to his office to clear up as much of the back log of previous reports before he began to get facts on this present case. * The facts that had turned up in the first two weeks showed that the dead woman didn't have a police record according to the fingerprint department. She had not been reported missing and neither had her teeth revealed any dentist so far that might have treated her. The photo fit hadn't produced anybody recognising her and the hotel manager swore that the drawing was like the woman who had checked into his hotel. It was very frustrating for Moss and the team and he eventually resorted to having the photo fit published in the national papers asking if anyone recognised her. To this, they began to get reports and it didn't make sense with the locations being so varied. Norfolk, Surrey, Yorkshire, Devon and many places in between. They all had to be checked out which in itself was no mean task, with the squad travelling all over England to interview the people who had reported in. In the incident room, a map of the country had been put up and these sightings marked and as the reports began to filter back, a pattern began to emerge. The pattern was racecourses and the surname of Pound kept recurring. The wife of a bookmaker. There was excitement in the incident room for it only took a phone call to the Bookmakers Association to get the name of Michael Pound with his address in Bagshot. This also tied up with three reports from that area and so Moss, Twist and Saunders got a car out and went to visit the address. It didn't take them long to get to the house and found that it was empty, no response to their knocking or ringing of the door bell. Moss had no compunction at having Twist break a window for them to get access to the inside. The photographs on a sideboard confirmed that they were in the right place and a quick look through drawers found her name as being Jane Pound. Twist had been over the house and declared that it didn't appear to have been in use for some time. Saunders confirmed this by the state of the inside of the fridge in the kitchen. Moss phoned the yard and had a forensic team despatched immediately and two hours later, had a match of the fingerprints, but nothing else of value to them was turned up while they were there. Moss had Twist and Saunders gather up all papers and contents of desk drawers as well as those of the bedside cabinets for closer examination back at the station. The desks in the incident room were cleared and the contents of the three large boxes were minutely scrutinized. Every letter, memo or note were read and sorted into different piles. `Sir,' Saunders interrupted Moss. `It seems that Mr Pound died as result of an accident and Mrs Pound received just short of half a million pounds insurance money. Now this surely would have been paid into her bank, but I cannot find one bank statement that belonged to her in this lot.' `Very good Saunders. Get onto the banks in Bagshot and find which one she used and then get them to fax over her statements for the past two years.' `Yes sir,' she said and went off to this task. Two hours later, she placed a bunch of faxes on his desk. `Well, well,' he murmured as he quickly scanned through them before passing over one to Twist. `She drew the lot out over a three week period and we didn't find any in the house. Wallis! Wright! Tomkins and Nichols! I want you to go to the house and tear it apart. Find the money.' The four looked at each and shrugged their shoulders and left the room to do as they had been instructed. `Find the money and you've found the murderer,' he said to Saunders. * Nothing after two days of searching the house. Then came the painstaking task of interviewing all known associates of the Pound's and checking their alibi's for the day and night of the murder. Again nothing. Other banks over a wide area were asked if large sums had been paid in totalling nearly half a million pounds without any result. Safe deposit boxes rented from the date of her receiving the insurance money till her death were checked. No joy there either. `Where would you hide the money and why?' was the question Moss kept asking himself as well as Twist and Saunders. The where part of the question came to him when they were driving through an industrial estate a couple of days later. Well it was a possibility he thought and had Twist drive back to the yard and get a search warrant for storage depots. `Get a dozen with the locations blank,' he instructed him and he gathered the team together and split them up into pairs. Saunders was given the task of finding the locations in London and splitting them up for the teams to search. `We are not looking into every locker in these places but the smallest. Those that have been rented over the past year. I would think that we are looking for a large briefcase, suitcase or box with money in it. Then get the name and address of whoever rented it. It will probably be false but we must still check them out.' Twist returned with the warrants and Saunders gave out a printed list to each team and sent them off. It took them two days to check each one on the list and when they gathered again in the incident room, Moss had each of them report what they had found. `We found four that had been rented in this time period. Two were full up and two were empty,' WPC Wallis said, handing over her list to him. `We found six,' Pc Tomkins said. Five full up and one empty.' He too passed over his list. The third list was passed over to add to his one and it was very clear that four of the empty ones had been rented by the same person. Ruth Roberts, and the same address was given. `Well done everyone. Twist, Saunders, let us pay a visit on this Ruth Roberts.' The three of them left and were soon in a car heading for Chelsea. They had no response to ringing of any of the four bells to the flats and Twist had observed that the door looked too solid to break into. `Then we'll ask the estate agent to let us in,' Moss said, pointing to the sign fixed to the railings by the front gate. The manager of the estate agent was most helpful when shown the warrant card of Moss. He confirmed by looking through their files that a Ruth Roberts had flat number three at that address and went with them in his own car back to the flat with his spare sets of keys. The flat had that stale smell of not being used very often and also that it hadn't been used for some time. `Bingo!' came the cry from Saunders when she opened a wardrobe and moved aside for Moss to look inside. `Four cases?' he said. `One would have been enough.' He noted a dark top coat hanging up inside and gently turned it on its hanger and knew that he was now well on the way to solving his case, for there, wrapped under the coat was a silk scarf, exactly like the one that had been round the victims throat. `Get forensics down here immediately,' he said to Twist who used his phone to send for them. `Mr Forbes,' this being the estate office manager, `the keys please. This flat is now part of a murder investigation. They will be returned to you when we've have completed our examination. Twist, go back with him and get a statement from whoever had dealings with this Roberts woman.' The two left and Moss and Saunders waited for the forensic team to dust the suitcases for prints before he could open them. These were the first things to be treated and they lifted six sets from the four suitcases before going over the flat to find more that they could try to match up later. `Okay, let's see what's in the first one,' Moss said as he pulled it out and put it on the bed and opened it. `Bingo,' Saunders said again when they saw that it was half full of money, most of it still banded. He didn't touch any of it for he wanted prints lifted off the bundles as well. `The others must be clothes then,' Saunders said as he heaved out the second one. `Wow,' she gasped when it was opened to reveal it full of money, more than was in the first one. `Oh shit!' Moss breathed out when the fourth one was opened to reveal it too held money. `I should have guessed with four lock ups. There's more here than there should be. Saunders! Back to the office and I want you to phone every insurance company you can think of to find out if over the past six to nine months they have made out any large payments and to whom. I'm looking for another three names,' he finished grimly. By the end of the normal working day, five o'clock to most office workers, they had the three names. Robert Seymour of Berkshire, died in a hit and run. Wife, Anne, the recipient of his insurance pay out. Stephen Mann from Malden, Essex. Drowned, wife, Francis paid. William Swithers, London, died in an underground accident. Wife Penelope paid out. `Saunders. I want an arrest warrant for the murder of Jane Pound made out to Ruth Roberts. I also want forensic teams to go over the three addresses to see what they come up with apart from fingerprints. I want the counties concerned to let us know of any Jane Doe's they have and also their fingerprints.' `You think all four of them?' she asked. `Yes, I'm afraid so.' She went off to her tasks and he went along to his Superintendant to report what he had uncovered so far. `Excellent Moss, and your conclusions?' he'd said. `That all four men were murdered for the insurance money and not accidents as recorded. Then all four women have been murdered by this Ruth Roberts who must have master minded the whole thing. I'm just about to issue an all points bulletin to arrest and hold her at all air and sea ports and for us to be informed if they do so,' he finished. `Well done Moss, carry on'' the Superintendant said. * It was the forensic teams that pointed the way to the killer by the means of the fingerprints. Those on the suitcases matched those taken from the four homes. They would also be able to identify the money by taking fingerprints of various bank employees that would have handled it. One set gave them a name to one Jane Doe because they matched but where forensic came up trumps was with the coat taken from the flat of Roberts. They found carpet fibres wrapped in paper that when checked, matched those of the carpet in the hotel room in Camden. Also, there were only one set of prints on the paper which pointed out the killer. `Sir,' Saunders called out, waving her hand. `I've got a check in desk at Heathrow. A Ruth Roberts has just checked into the First Class lounge.' `Nichols! Take over that phone and get through to air traffic control to delay that plane. Twist, Saunders, come with me,' he cried as he rushed out of the incident room, those two hurrying to keep up with him. Twist drove with the siren going as they raced through London to get onto the M4. Saunders was on the phone to the airport security for one man to be waiting for them at the departure entrance to look after the car when they arrived. The siren was only turned off when they entered the tunnel at the approach to the airport and came to a halt outside the departure entrance where a security guard was waiting for them. Moss led the way through the milling throng till they reached the British Airways flight checking in desk for the First Class section. He showed the girl his warrant card and she said that it was her who'd phoned in. `She's in the lounge,' she said as she began to lead them there. `How did you pick it up,' Moss asked her as they moved along, `when passport control didn't?' `Coincidence really. The name stuck in my mind because it's the same as my mother's maiden name,' she said as they reached the door to the lounge. `There. The woman facing the windows.' Moss strode over flanked by Twist and Saunders and went and stood in front of her. He recognised her from pictures in her house. `I'm arresting you Ruth Roberts for the murder of one Jane Pound, though rather than calling you by the false name, I should use your real name Mrs Penelope Swithers.' * * * All comments, good or bad, are welcome and all will be answered. Send them to >adultreading@gmail.com< or my website >adultreading.es< . I can also supply where my other books are listed with nifty.org who would also like contributions to keep them supplying books like mine.