The Atlas Murders (39 page)

Tom took it up. “His birth
place the Celebes Islands, as you may or may not know are home to a very
primitive people with customs and traditions going back thousands of years. One
of these fits his behavior in the way he treated the bodies of his victims;
filling their orifices with clothing or whatever he had at hand, putting fish
hooks around their faces especially their nose, mouth and ears. This practice
still goes on today among the peoples of these islands. They believe that when
someone dies their spirit is released from their body through these orifices,
and also their rectum and vagina. If the person has been murdered then these
spirits will harbor evil for the perpetrator and cause them much harm. They
will suffer sickness and excruciating pain and eventually a crippling epileptic
death. To avoid this they must stop the spirits escaping and if they do escape
the fish hooks will catch them and prevent their entry to the person who killed
the victim. This seems to fit the practice of Hadar Tukola.”

 The Deputy Commissioner
looked up from the paper, his fresh pink complexion and stern face showing no
emotion or concern.

“I’ll submit this to the
Crown Prosecution. With all the evidence we have here in this box, I must say
it is a very bizarre development and one I hope can be presented in court
without seeming to be going back to the Spanish Inquisition.”

Tom looked at him and spoke
with the confidence of a man who had done his research thoroughly.

“The reference to this study
can be found in the book by James Frazer, “
The Golden Bough
” and I will
supply you a copy with the passages marked to give to the Crown Prosecutor.”

 “Thank you Tom. That would
be a big help and save them time on researching. If that’s all gentlemen I’ll
let you go, but I might want to see you Henry tomorrow.”

Tom and Henry accompanied
Vincent to his office where he ordered a pot of tea and biscuits to be brought
up to them. Tom asked his two friends if they thought he should tone down the
report he compiled for the Crown Prosecution. They both thought the more
shocking it sounded the more a jury was likely to find him guilty.

Vincent was still a little non-committal
when he said they would have to have a case ready in a few days in time for
Tukola’s bail hearing. “I hope we get a different magistrate than that old
fossil we had last time; he couldn’t see wrong in Jack the Ripper.”

 Tom laughed a somewhat
nervous laugh.

Vincent stood up and looked
at the clock hanging crooked on the wall; it was nearly five.

“Come on me hearties, next
stop The Black Lion and the drinks are on me.”

 Next morning Vincent was
asked to go to the Deputy Commissioner’s office. He had the file for the case
on his desk and was going over some points he wanted to emphasize to the Crown
Prosecution when he gave them the file later that day. He was studying some of
the crucial evidence when Henry knocked and walked in.

“Please sit down Henry. I’ve
been going over the file. The ring is a crucial bit of evidence and I want you
to give me as much information as possible about it.”

He took a sheaf of paper and
pen and wrote something on the top corner.

“Could you give me the exact
date you bought the ring?”

 “Yes, it was two days before
her birthday and that would make it the fourteenth of March, 1958.”

 “Fine, and the name and
address of the jeweler’s shop you purchased the ring from, I don’t suppose you
have a receipt?”

 He gave him the name and
address of the jewelers in Liverpool but said he hadn’t kept the receipt.

 “I will have to do a bit of
research on the ring to see how many were manufactured and by whom. I’m sure
you understand. We don’t want the defense council tearing our case to pieces.”

 “Yes I understand. We want
the best case possible and the ring is such a crucial bit of evidence.”.

 The Deputy Commissioner was
reading through the paper Tom had given him, he leaned back in his chair and
looked at Henry.

 “Henry, I’ve read this
extraordinary report of Tom’s, but I just can’t seem to get it into reality
that voodoo is still in existence and happening in this day and age. I’m trying
to imagine the reaction of a jury when this is put to them. Will they dismiss
it out of hand as ridiculous, or take it seriously and see the defendant for
what he is - a cruel monster. It’s a shame we can’t use any of the other
murders to paint a picture of how evil he is.”

 Henry moved around nervously
on his chair.

“Could you give me an honest
opinion sir, on what you think the chances of a conviction are?”

 The Deputy brushed his blonde
hair back off his forehead and he frowned.

“It’s a knife edge case and
the ring is going to decide it. The defense council will have a dozen
explanations how the ring came into his possession. Also he shared a cabin I
believe with another crewman, so he could plead that the box belonged to him.
Also that other crewman was on the ship the night Shirley was murdered. We have
a lot of loose ends that need to be tied up if it’s possible. The anatomy parts
won’t be admissible in this case unless we can prove beyond doubt at least one
of them came from Shirley, and that’s not going to be easy. I’m going to submit
all the evidence tomorrow to the big wigs; all except the ring. I’m having a
man go to Liverpool to track down the manufacturers and get as much information
as possible on it. You take a few days off and try to wind down a bit. You’ve
had a hard few months.”

 “Thanks sir, I’ll do that and
Vincent will no doubt keep me updated.”

 “Fine, we’ll leave it at
that for the present and I’ll let you know as soon as I have information on the
ring.”

 There was a cold north-easterly
wind blowing as he walked to meet Vera. He had arranged to meet her outside a
pub on Connaught Street. She arrived walking briskly and not in a taxi as he
expected. She was muffled up with a knitted hat and scarf, and wearing a knee
length tweed coat and fur boots.

“Good evening madam, this is
where Ernest Shackelton’s crew are assembling for our Antarctic expedition.”

 She brushed his face with
her large fur mittens.

“You look cold and your
sarcasm doesn’t become you young man.”

He kissed her on her cold
little nose.

“Come inside out of the cold,
fair maid and let me treat you to a hot glass of port.”

 He helped her peel off the
heavy outer clothes and they sat and stared at one another for half a minute,
she broke into laughter. “My hot glass of port please.” The waiter brought them
their drinks and they sat warming their hands on the glasses and sipping the
sweet rich ruby nectar. She looked provocatively over her glass. “Would you
like to discuss the case or would you prefer to have a rest from police work?”

 He smiled at her pouting
lips and red tipped nose and felt an overwhelming desire to take her teasing
body and lovingly caress it. “Five minutes question time and then back to the
Kama Sutra and the newest way to make love with you tonight.”

 She put her hand across the
table and held his, “agreed.”

 His demeanor changed like a Jekyll
and Hyde character, as he went over the case step by step and knew by her demeanor
she wasn’t very impressed with their strength of evidence.

 “Now what do you think of
our chances of a conviction?”

 She held his hands across
the table looking into his eyes and spoke with a soft comforting tone.

“Besides the ring, the case
is not overwhelming strong and a good defense council could throw doubt all
over it. The ring is our best hope and surely that will convince a jury.”

 “I need some little
reassurance Vera. The doubts are surfacing far too frequently over the last
couple of days.”

He asked her if she wanted to
know the details of the girl murdered on the orders of Lord Welland. Her eyes
lit up at the prospect of this great scandal and humiliation of the demon Lord.

 “Henry you’re not to omit
one morsel. I want to hear all.”

 He related the whole episode
from start to finish and watched her expression change from incredulous to
hatred. She felt sincere remorse for the young girl, then with a triumphal
attitude she exclaimed in a breathless gasp: “Will he be charged under Indian
law with procuring and financing a heinous crime?”

 “I’m going to try my best to
have co-operation between our Crown Prosecution and the Indian police to bring
charges against him. It might not be successful but he daren’t go back to India
or he’ll be arrested.”

 The pleasure at the thought
of him being arrested and tried gave her such an elated feeling she felt
sexually aroused.

“Henry we’ll go now and I’ll
make you a night cap among my other little surprises I have for you.”

As he helped her on with her
coat he leaned over and kissed her ear and whispered.

“Little surprises, I
absolutely treasure.”

 Her house was warm and
wonderfully cozy from out of the cold biting wind. The lamps in the hallway
threw soft shadows around the door frames and pictures. In the lounge a fire
was glowing in the big marble fireplace.

“Henry please tend to the
fire.”

She lit some scented candles
standing them in glass globes. She brought a pink silk bed sheet and placed it
on the rug in front of the fire and then went and got some bottles and laid
them along inside the fire fender. Henry smelt the perfume from the lighted
candles as it wafted round the room. He watched her as she tended to her vials
and glass stopper bottles of oils and lotions standing them in rows like an
apothecary. She spoke not a word but moved in graceful movements like a
ballerina. She kicked her left leg and a shoe flew onto a lounge chair, she
bent over and picked off the right one and pitched it after the other. Henry
sat and watched the flames in the fire rise and dance throwing glittering rays
through the bottles of colored oils. She stood before the fire and slipped her
tangerine silk blouse off her shoulders and threw it to Henry. It wrapped round
his face, her scent and body perfume was aphrodisiacal. She moved lithely and
opened a drawer taking out a whip. She swished it round and struck Henry a
light blow across his chest. It was made up of a dozen or more fluffy lengths
of wool; the effect was like a light breeze across his skin. She threw him the
toy.

 “Now, my slave, you do my
bidding, remove all your clothing.”

He stripped to his underwear and
stood and watched her as she removed her remaining vestments. Her stockings she
rolled down and bending over, pulled them full length from each foot and draped
them over the back of a chair. Her pale blue panties were slid down her shapely
bottom in ever so slow and delicate movements, eventually being stepped on and
kicked across the floor. Henry was naked now, torturously aroused and with the
toy whip hanging from his hand. She took a step towards him rubbing her naked
thighs against his she spoke not a word but dropped her bra to the floor. She
took the whip from him and striking him soft blows across his buttocks bade him
to  lie flat on his face before the fire. She straddled him and with the warm
scented oil from the bottles sprinkled liberally over his tanned muscled back
and shoulders, she began her massage. Her small gentle but firm hands moved
gracefully and firmly on his smooth unblemished skin; rippling muscles that
felt erogenous to her touch. She moved her sensuous Mount Venus on his buttocks
then fell moaning and crying onto his back. He could feel her hot panting
breath on his neck. Then she rolled off him and lay on her back looking into
his eyes. Then he got up to kneel, bent over her and stroked her glossy silken
hair from her face. She pulled his head to her left breast; the hard protruding
nipple in his mouth tasted to him like some sweet, hard ripened fruit. She
stopped him mounting and entering her as she tightened her legs together. He
stroked her body, now soft and smoothed by the scented oil. He moved to her
naval kissing and licking her hot flesh and pulled her pubic tuft playfully
with his teeth as he moved to her expectant lips. She squealed repeatedly like
a willingly snared rabbit and after a while, she slowly drew his head away. He
pulled her to a sitting position and sat before her. She glared at his erect
manhood moving herself onto it and directing him into her. She screamed as he
entered her, pulling her buttocks in two handfuls. She clung to him as her
tongue probed and teased his mouth, then drawing back and putting a breast up
to his mouth, she moved in a slow rhythmic motion until he felt her stiffen and
claw his back.

“Now,” she shouted, “slap me
hard,” he slapped her buttocks and she screamed, “harder” until she fell limp
and he drove into her, releasing what seemed the flow of his life-force.

They lay exhausted before the
hot flaming fire, in a soft embrace, eyes closing and opening to view the
flickering and dancing shapes cast by the fire flames and fluttering candles.
They were in a wonderful world of unreal dimensions; a world that can last for
only a short time, and must fade away like a wisp of morning mist in the stark
reality of being.