The Door is Still Ajar Read online

  Harry Parkes had not made a big issue out of the fire. Simply becaause he did not want to draw too much atttention to it, for his own reasons. There must be some terrible secret held between Hammond, Dawes and Danny Garcia.

  CHAPTER 17

  No sooner had Blumer opened his office and sat down at his desk the phoned rang. He picked up the receiver and said, “Good morning, Blumer private investigations. John Blumer speaking. Can I help you?”

  “No, but I can help you John. I’ve traced your friends Hammond and this Dawes geezer. They got off a train from Clacton at half past eight last night, pissed out of their heads. Dave Sobel followed Hammond to an address in Bethnal Green and Billy Reeves followed Dawes to an address in Whitechapel. The place where Hammond lives is a right carsey. And the place where this Dawes geezer lives is an even bigger carsey. Now before you go any further John. I’m a man of my word and it was you that nailed that murderin’ bastard Stewart Briggs. I owe you and I told you that if you ever need anythin’ come and ask me. If you are going to confront these two tossers, do you need back up?”

  “Thanks Harry, but no. I need a break for a couple of days, but a least I now know where I can find ‘em. But I may need two favours from you later and they are both tall orders. Before I confront these two I need to speak to Danny Garcia. I know from Carol Locke that him and his lady friend have set up shop in Jaywick. Now I’m wondering if they moved there, because Hammond and Dawes had tracked them to Skegness. They may have dirt on him that they are using against him. Or they could be blackmailing him, or trying to.”

  “No doubt that Carol told you about what happened to old Leonard that worked for me. I know Leonard had taken Danny under his wing and had straightened him out. If its about the fire, then I doubt very much if Danny did it. Him and Leonard were real close. If these two dick-heads torched the house, cause’ I’m sure it wasn’t an accident, then why would they do it?”

  “No Harry. I don’t think they did it. But what I’m really think is that there was a viscious circle of dirt that they all had on each other. Danny has been trying to burn his boats with these two characters and they won’t leave him alone. In your opinion, is Danny Garcia by any measure a dangerous man. Could he have been up to some dodgy business that you didn’t know about.”

  “Danny, Nah! He’es just a silly boy that drinks too much, gambles too much and from what Carol tells me, now smokes too much pot. I think Leonard had cut him down to size regardin’ his big mouth. But when he did work for me he was obedient and reliable. His ambitions though were well above his station. He had dilusions of grandeur. He fancied himself to be like Dave Sobel, Billy Reeves, or Frankie Allen. He was just a useful runner and messenger, that’s all.”

  Blumer pondered his next move. He already knew from Alice Burgess that both Hammond and Dawes had a connection Clacton. Hammond had lived there and Dawes had stayed with him for six weeks. Lisa Noonan had disappeared at around the same time that this gruesome-twosome, were fraternizing with each other. Even though it was under sufferance from Hammonds perspective. He had the old postcard of the Martello Tower in front of him on the desk. The crease down the middle of it indicated that it had been used to keep the fire door ajar. Did the owner of the card leave it like some kind of cryptic clue, or a message. ‘I was here eveybody. Catch me if you can.’ He had interviewed Brenda Horton and Pat Thackery, but he was removed from the case before he had a chance to interview Modesta Pons and Hilda Goddard. From what he had gathered, all of their accounts of what happened that day had tallied very well. Blumer was sure that Boyd had entered the building by the fire door. But who left the fire door ajar.

  Before he travelled down to Clacton again he must try to interview Brenda Horton again. Maybe she could remember something she had forgotten, because of all of the pandamonium and shocking events of that day. He was getting tired now and if he was to move forward he needed a piece more of the puzzle. He would get that piece the next day from Brenda Horton. Only a small piece, but then it would lead into another piece that would put him back on track.

  Brenda Horton was sitting at her desk when he entered her office. She was now a manager of Clean & Shine cleaning services and directed the cleaning contracts that had to be done from her desk. When she saw him she stood up and walked over to greet him. Brenda was one of those lucky woman that it was not easy to put an age to. Although she was over fifty, she could easily pass as thirty. If she told somebody that she was thirty, they would believe her. She appeared to be pleased to see him again and greeted him with a handshake and smile.

  “Hello Mister Blumer. Thanks for phoning me in advance. I’ve been busy lately, but today I’ve managed to clear up any paperwork that needed to be done. What can I do for you?”

  “Good to see you again Brenda. And I’m glad it’s not under the same terrible circumstances as before. All I’m asking from you is your own account of what happened that day again.”

  “Of course, how could I ever forget. It was just another Friday evening. George Enright the caretaker, let us through the main door at six thirty as usual. Although I was their supervisor, we worked more like a team. We went down to the basement and I handed the girls all of the cleaning gear they needed from our cleaners cupboard. They all knew their routine. Modestsa would start on the second floor Pat would do the third floor and Hilda would do the first floor. Then Pat, Modesta and myself would go to the fourth floor, which was always the worse, because it was used for food and drinks for the staff on friday afternoons. We would pile all of the dirty glasses and plates down to Hilda on the first floor, because that was where the kitchen was. And we would clean the fourh floor between the three of us. Hilda didn’t object to doing the glasses and plates, because she suffered with arthritis in her feet and ankles and could not move about as fast as us, pushing hoovers and moving desks and chairs about. I had just settled down with George for ten minutes to fill in our pools coupons. The next thing I know Pat Thackery bursts into the room in hysterics. Shouting that the girl working up in the fifth floor office is being attacked. George and myself went for the main stairs and I told Pat Thackery to go straight to the reception desk and phone the police. We couldn’t use the lift because George had isolated the power in the lift motor room, because one of Pat’s jobs was cleaning the inside of the lift and it was on the fifth floor. When we got to the first floor landing Hilda Goddard came out of the office and I told her to go back inside and lock the door. When we got to the second floor landing George collapsed. Luckily Modesta Pons had worked for the St Johns Ambulance came out from the office and realised that George was having a heart attack. I left Modesta to administer heart resuscitation on George and told Pat, who was now coming up the stairs to phone an ambulance. When I got to the fifth floor I could hear the girl screaming and a man’s garbled voice inside the office. I tried the door but it was locked. There is a small, half moon shaped locking pad on the inside, but from the outside the door can only be opened by an allen key. Pat had now joined me and I told her to go and get the allen key from the keyboard in the basement. My only hope now was to try and trap the bastard inside, until the police arrived. But I forgot that he could use the fire escape. When Pat arrived back with the allen key. I told her to put it in the hole and hold it as tight as she possibly could, while I tried to jam a broomstick under the door handle. We could hear crashing about inside and the man shouted something.

  Then it all went quiet. Pat had already opened the front door, so the police could get in the building. When they arrived they told us to stand back and they went in. You know the rest of what happened after that. How Boyd got into the building is a complete mystery. George Enright is an ex Coldstream guard and he was a stickler for securing the building thoroughly. He is lucky to be alive, because the heart massage that Modesta gave him saved his life, until the ambulance people arrived and took over. How Boyd knew that the girl was alone on the fifth floor is a complete mystery. He could not have ent
ered through the ground floor, because that’s used as a filing room, for old files and records and it’s always locked. What is ironic we were all in The Woodin Shades the same friday night that Boyd attacked and killed the girl before.”

  Blumer attention was suddenly alerted by this news. But he tried to remain calm and impassive. “Really. Please tell me what you saw. I believe she was with a group of fellow workers.”

  “That’s right. On Friday night after work the four of us all used to stop off at the Woodin Shades, for a few drinks. That night there was a party of office workers celebrating at the other end of the pub. There was some sort of disturbance, because one of the girls was drunk and was becoming quite abusive. A couple of the other girls and a bloke tried to calm her down, but she only got worse. This particular night we’ed had a bit more to drink than usual, because it was Modesta’s birthday. Hilda was well gone and twittering away like a polly parrott. We were not trying to pay too much attention to the party. But it turned into a bit of a fracus. Hilda had gone to the toilet and was in there for a long time. So Pat went see if she was okay and found her being sick. We decided to put Hilda in a taxi, after she had finished being sick and send her home.

  “By the time we got Hilda into a taxi she had sobered up a bit. The drunken girl had also been in the toilet when Pat was attending to Hilda But I noticed that when she came out of the toilet that she slipped out of the door, without any of the others in the party noticing her. Well, you know how she was found. Tell me this Mister Blumer. If the market stall owner got a real good look at Boyd. Then how come the police didn’t nab him sooner. Boyd was definately not in The Woodin Shades that night, because I would have noticed him, the bloody size of him. And I did not see him hanging about outside. And another thing. How comes Boyd knew how and when to strike. It is if he had, he had. What’s the words I’m looking for an adviser, or scout, or something. Surely he just not just have been around by sheer happanstance.”

  “The word you are looking for Brenda is an accomplice, a crafty and devious accomplice.”

  “That’s it, an accomplice. How the bloody hell did he kill three or four girls before and simply appear out of nowhere. Nobody could miss seeing a bloke the size of him. He was a giant.”

  “Do you know what happened to Pat Thackery, Hilda Goddard and Modesta Pons?”

  Yes. Pat went back to Ireland with her husband and three daughters. She was from Limerick originally. Modesta Pons now looks after the elderly and Hilda’s former land lady told me that Hilda had gone back to Carlisle, where she had come from. And she told me that she had received a letter from a family member advising her that Hilda had died. I wasn’t surprised to hear that, because she had completely gone to peices after seeing Boyd impailed on those railing spikes and the girls body on the floor. She even lost her hair and had to wear a wig. I think that she had something similar to alopecia. From what her old land lady told me, she had a nervous breakdown. And rarely went out in the end. I’ll never forget that day as long as I live.”

  “Do you know where her old landlady lives, because I would like to have a chat with her?”

  Yes. She lives at 21 East Park Road in Manor Park. I know that, because I went around there to visit Hilda a couple of times. Her name is Mrs Beryl Pound. She is quite elderly, but still very much alert and can probably tell you more about Hilda’s demise than I can.”

  Blumer rang the front doorbell of 21 East Park Road in Manor Park. It was a pleasant, detached Victorian house that had been turned into bedsits. He could hear classical music playing inside and he was surprised when the door opened quite abrubtly. Beryl Pound, although quite elderly was a woman who obviously took great care of her appearance. Her clothing and jewellery must have been all of very expensive choices.

  “Good morning sir. If you’ve come about the room that I had for let. I rented it out yesterday.”

  “No Madam I would like to speak with Mrs Beryl Pound. My name is John Blumer. I’m a private investigator, working for a client. I only have a few question for her.”

  Although quite surprised, she tried to maintain an air of aloofness and said, “I’m Beryl Pound. How can I help you Mister Blumer?”

  “I believe a lady named Hilda Goddard lived here for a while. Brenda Horton, her former supervisor gave me your address. Can you tell me anything about her Mrs Pound? I’ll come straight to the point. I was one of the investigators in the Leon Boyd case. Did Hilda tell you anything about what happened that day, that may have not come to light when she was interviewed by the police. Anything at all.”

  “Oh Brenda. She came to visit Hilda a couple of times. A charming and compassionate lady. No she never spoke about what happened that dreadful day. I think that she was too traumatized by what happened. I watched the poor dear slowly go to pieces. Her hair started falling out terribly and she had to wear a wig. Her arthritis would sometimes flare up so badly that she could barely walk. Before that terrible event, she was one of the most happiest people that one could meet. In truth I was glad when she went back to Carlise to be with family. I received a letter a few weeks after she went back to Carlisle from a family member, letting me know that she died from a stroke. I could not reply to the letter, because the sender forgot to write a return address. I was sad to hear that she had died, but I wasn’t surprised. She really needed taking care of. She was haunted by terrible nightmares about those ghastly events of what happened that day. From what Brenda told me she was the only one of the four of them who had actually seen Boyd impailed on the railings and the girl’s body badly broken on the ground. Hilda had lived here for just over a year. She had the box room, at the back of the house. I need to call the decorators in to wallpaper and paint the room. I had to throw the bed out, because it was too filthy to use again. In truth, her personal hygeine became a lot to be desired before she left. I also need to bag up and dump the very few things that she left behind. Even a second hand shop wouldn’t want it. That’s all I can tell about her really Mister Blumer.”

  “Would you mind if I take a look inside of her room Mrs Pound?”

  “Oh course not. But there’s not much in there. Oh, just one more thing, now I remember. She would sometimes cry out in her sleep, ‘leave me alone now. I don’t, I don’t belong to you’.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Blumer was wandering around the supermarket with a shopping trolley. He had been meaning to stock of with food and drink for a while, but this case had consumed so much of his time that he had forgotten about it. He was piling some packages of Ben Truman and McEwens Export into the trolley, when he became aware of somebody watching him. It was Pamela.

  “Good morning John. I can see you are stocking up with some liquid lunch.”

  This was one thing he did like about Pamela. Her blazé and sarcastic sense of humour. “Morning Pamela, nice to see you again. How’s things with you these days?”

  “Could be a lot better, but I’m just ticking over okay. I’m doing a bit of typing for Tristan again.”

  “Glad to hear that. He came to visit me at my office recently. Had a good old chin-wag with him.”

  “Like two bloody women, with the latest, idle gossip, hot gossip, malicious gossip, I dare say”.

  This is one thing he did not like about her; her cruel, spiteful and nasty snipes. But he did not try to hit back. The last thing he wanted at the moment was an argument.

  “It was only a social visit really. Tristan was the only one to stand by me when things went bad.”

  “Well, he probably told you that we all had lunch together, Tristan, Aubrey and myself.”

  “He did. And he told me that Aubrey got drunk and started blabbering his mouth off.”

  “You can say that again. I dare say that he told you that I had finished with Damian, and the reasons why. He pushed his luck too far, so I had to dump him.”

  Now he sensed a sarcastic jibe of his own and he used it like an im
pervious, passing comment.

  “He did mention something about Sir Galahad turning out to be Sir Lancelot, that liked to try out his lance on any woman that he could. Maybe he should of used it for pole-vault instead?”

  Pamela chuckled despite herself. But she was not going to let him get away with it. “Aubrey did mention your lady friend John. I hope she’s behaving herself and looking after you?”

  “She’s gone Pamela. She left a few weeks ago. Oh well, it was good while it lasted.”

  “My God John, a stripper, a bloody stripper. How could you stoop so low John?”

  “I dare say the chuckle brothers told you all about her then. To cut a long story short, she needed somewhere to stay for a while and I was up for a jolly-jape at the time anyway. That’s all there is to it. I don’t see why you should be offended Pamela. It was you that left me. I only found out when I picked up my favorite tea pot and found your dear John note underneath it.”

  “I can’t be angry with you John, because you just don’t get it. You’re not even a male chauvinist pig. It was me who took care of all of the bills. It was me who had to traipse around the supermarkets by myself, looking for bargains. It was me who was always stuck in a queue at the bank, trying to sort out some problem with our account. It was me who always made sure that there was food on the table. It was me who had to do all of the washing, ironing and cleaning. A woman’s work is never done alright. But it would help if the man of the house did his wack. You were never there John. I can’t be angry with you John, because you just don’t get it.”