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Authors: John Molloy

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BOOK: The Atlas Murders
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“Sir, we have him.”

 “Where is he?”

“He’s down in the Palm Grove
Restaurant on Fort Street. He just came in a few minutes ago, the manager came
running up to tell us.”

 “Is the manager outside?”

 “Yes sir.”

 “Tell him to come in here.”

 The young policeman ran out
and returned quickly with the breathless manager. Weighing in at around 300
pounds and with reams of flesh hanging over his belt, it was not surprising he
was gasping like an asthmatic donkey.

Monty seated him.

 “Now Toni, where in the
restaurant is he and has he ordered yet?”

 “Yes, he has ordered, and he
is sitting alone near the back; the second table from the kitchen entrance.”

 Monty looked at Henry.

 “Beautiful, we will go in
the back entrance; you put on the uniform of a waiter and serve him his meal.
Ok with you Henry?”

 “Yes, sounds perfect.”

 “You two men can stay at the
front entrance in case something goes wrong.”

Monty pulled out a pair of
handcuffs and linked them to his belt. “Let’s go men.”

 Henry and Monty went into
the kitchen via the back entrance. Henry put on a waiter’s uniform. The manager
whose breathing had just about returned to normal, pointed out to them from a
slightly opened door a man sitting with his back to them. “That’s him.”

 At first Henry could only
see a bit of his shoulder and the back of his head until he turned slightly
revealing to wound above his eye.

 “That’s him; give me a plate
on a tray.”

 The manager put the meal he
had ordered on a tray and passed it to Henry. He walked to the table and stood
slightly behind Tukola as he placed the plate on the table. The unsuspecting
diner didn’t look up. Henry put the tray on the table behind him and took out
his gun and pressed the muzzle to the back of Tukola’s ear while grabbing a clump
of his hair. “If you so much as move a fucking muscle, I’ll blow your brains
all over this place.”

Monty pounced, pulled him from
his chair and made him lie on the floor. Then the two men outside came running
in through the front entrance. They searched him and pulled a hand gun out of
his belt.

“Turn him over,” Henry
demanded and he took a knife out from his belt.

 “Now his legs.”

They searched his lower limbs.

“All clean sir.”

 With handcuffs on and
rendered totally speechless by the shock of his arrest, they marched him to the
police station and into a waiting cell.

One of the younger policemen
was about to take the cuffs off.

Henry intervened.

“Leave them on - teach him a
bit of manners.”

 “Right sir.”

 

A scheduled meeting next
morning with Monty and the Attorney General of the Island at eleven hundred
hours was held in the Government administration buildings. Henry met Monty at
the police headquarters and walked the short distance up Elgin Avenue to the
very imposing building. The Attorney General was waiting in his chambers. An
elderly lady secretary was seated at the end of his desk. The meeting convened
in very formal fashion and the result as Henry predicted, was that Tukola could
not be tried for anything here on the Caymans as he hadn’t committed a crime.
Monty read the notes of their questioning of him and his entry to the country.
The result was he hadn’t entered illegally and the missing skipper of the launch
still remained a mystery. Tukola had said he came ashore with him and they went
their separate ways. The eight hundred U.S. dollars found on his person he
claimed he got from the skipper of the launch for crewing payment, and some of
it was his own sub from the Rangoon. Henry was pleased with the outcome and
arrangements were already underway to have him flown back to Britain. Henry
asked the Attorney General if he would inform the captain of the Rangoon about
Tukola’s arrest. This he agreed to do.

 Henry went to visit Maud and
Roy and enjoyed a wonderful day fishing with them on their yacht. They swam
from the yacht as the evening got cooler and the setting sun awakened a
multitude of stars coming out into the clear night peopled the emptiness of the
sky. After finishing the last of many nightcaps, he slept on their yacht and
dreamed of young beautiful coffee colored native girls, running naked through
waterfalls and scampering over moss covered rocks. They called and beckoned him
but he was powerless to help as he saw them falling over an abyss, disappearing
before his eyes. He awoke with a stifled cry and wondered where he was. It was
dark in the small cabin with just a squeak of light coming through the small
porthole.

After breakfast he bade
goodbye to his two friends, and with his new passport he went to the Bank and
asked the manager if he’d hold the piece of jewelry in his safe. It was agreed
after some formalities of wrapping and sealing with sealing wax then stamped
with an official seal. He had to sign a paper agreeing an annual charge and
also a formal will in case he departed this world intestate. Happy to be relieved
of the beautiful piece he went to see Monty.

 The Police headquarters was
back to its normal routine of sleepy village policing. The excitement although
still detectable, was fading quickly. Monty was sitting at his desk writing up
a report.

“Come in Henry, sit down. I
have your tickets for your return to London, and I am sending one of my men
with you.”

 Henry was a little pensive.

 “Do you think that necessary?”

 “Actually I do, the whole
journey to London will take the best part of two days, and one man could find
it a bit exhausting guarding a dangerous individual like this Tukola. You will
have delays at airports, meals to contend with as well as comfort breaks. I
think two is the optimum for this journey Henry.”

 “What is the schedule?”

 Monty took up a set of
tickets and read from one, the other he handed to Henry. They both read and
confirmed in turn the itinerary. Henry whistled soft and low.

“I never thought it could
take so long. Miami, stay over four hours, onto Boston, stay over six hours,
then Shannon, Ireland, stay over two hours, and finally to London. Quite a
journey. I see now why two would be necessary. You’re so right Monty and thank
you.”

“Think nothing of it, my man
has always wanted to visit London and if I may impose on you, could you give him
a day and show him the sights. I’m he’ll tell us all when he comes back and his
stories and exaggerations will keep the mess going for at least a month.”

 “I’ll certainly do that
Monty, and it’s an early start in the morning; six hundred hours, so if I don’t
see you before then.”

” They shook hands and wished
one another well.

 “Good luck Henry and I hope
you get your conviction.”

“Thank you my friend.”

 

 

Chapter
Thirty-Two

 

 Henry met his traveling
companion at the airport; he was one of the sergeant’s trained in fire arms. He
had Tukola handcuffed to himself on a couple of foot of chain, as he greeted
Henry. “Good morning sir,” taking out a hand gun and placing it in Henry’s
hand. “We will alternate with this, whoever is not handcuffed to him will carry
the gun - just for safety in case I dozed off, I could be relieved of same.”

 “Good thinking, er,” he
paused.

“Edward Melling sir.”

“Let’s drop the formalities, its
Edward and Henry.”

 The flight to Miami was
smooth and brilliant, and the two men were feeling more comfortable with their
dumb-struck charge who only spoke when very necessary. In Miami they took it in
turns to walk around as the one tied to Tukola could not parade around dangling
the connecting chain. The flight to Boston was straightforward enough and soon
they were on a turbulent flight to Shannon. They wearily walked around Shannon
departure area looking out at the gray skies and tumbling rain. Edward asked how
long the rainy season last for here.”

 “About twelve months,” Henry
quipped, with a grin.

“Ha ha!”

 “It looks cold; do you think
we might get snow? I’d like to see snow.”

 Henry could see the
childlike wonder in his eyes.

  “Yes we could get snow, and if not snow,
frost which is a kind of younger brother to snow.

 “I hope so.”

 Their flight was called and
as they approached Heathrow the gray skies parted to show London spread out in
an afternoon winter sun. The sun’s rays glinting on the River Thames as it
snaked its way through the bustling metropolis below - a city so vast as to be
unreal to the sunshine island visitor.

 

 “Great to be back,” he
greeted Vincent as they shook hands at immigration.

Vincent had all the papers at
hand and there were no delays. The prisoner was swiftly handed over to the Metropolitan
Police. Edward accompanied them to Vincent’s house. The next few days were free
as Tukola wouldn’t be arraigned before the court until his charges were
compiled. Henry spent the days with Edward, taking in sights he had never
actually seen himself; the art galleries and museums were places of wonder, the
palaces, changing of the guards. My-my, he mused, Edward will have so much to
relate to his people back home.

He left Edward with Vincent
and his lovely wife in the evening and went to meet Vera. The old magic needed
a bit of rousing but it did surface, albeit like a spent volcano - spasmodically.
Vera still wasn’t fully convinced Oswyn was innocent.

A few days’ later Edward flew
home without seeing his snow.

Vincent was elated and
congratulatory to an excessive degree over Henry’s pivotal role in the unprecedented
success of an operation unique in the history of Scotland Yard investigations. A
meeting of top Yard men was called and Henry and Vincent were present. The
first priority was to ensure Tukola was kept in custody under the evidence
presented to the court thus far. The judge typically referred to as an ‘old
fart’ reluctantly gave permission to hold him until new evidence was presented.
This evidence was on board the Rangoon which was half way across the North
Atlantic. Henry told the top men what was in the box recovered from his cabin,
including the victim’s jewelry. Henry left the meeting despondent and not
confident now after all they’d done to catch and arrest him, that he could be
successfully tried and convicted. Vincent was a little more upbeat.

 “Shirley’s ring is solid
evidence and the ring from the girl Pippa.”

Henry shook his head in
despair looking down at his feet as they slowly walked back to their car.

“I should have shot him in
the restaurant. It’d be all over now. Could the bastard possibly walk free?”

 Vincent was rattling the car
keys in nervous agitation.

“Do you think there is any
way we could charge him with the murders on the ship? What evidence do we have
for them?”

 Henry looked over to
Vincent, his breath was white vapor in the frosty air.

“The fingerprints,” he almost
stammered, “that should be enough. And there’s the jewelry in the box”

 “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 Scotland 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.

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