The Door is Still Ajar Read online

  An hour later when he went to see Dick Taylor in his office, Taylor immediately noticed that Blumer was visibly shaken and told him to sit down. Blumer had almost blurted out ‘Hugh Porter of 26 Lime Kilns Road. My God, Dick, I can’t believe what I saw around there. Back room, upstairs.’ He then pulled the photos from his jacket pocket and put them on Taylor’s desk. Taylor visibly gagged and his face went white when he studied the photos and just like Blumer he had difficulty digesting the full horror of what he was looking at. Taylor, despite his shock had moved fast.

  A warrent for Porter’s arrest was immediately actioned. A team of detectives, forensic staff and PC’s were detailed off to go straight to 26 Lime Kilns Road. He had given Blumer a direct order not to go with the team. He had never seen Blumer traumatized like this. Indeed, Blumer himself had been thinking that maybe perhaps his time as a murder detective was coming to the end of its tether after this.

  The detectives had nabbed Porter while he was still at work. The other team had descended onto the house in force. The police had quickly established Porter’s modus-operandi. Katherine Colby had lived close to Clapham Common and Lisa Calhoun had lived close to Hampstead Heath. A big old Volvo car was found locked in Porter’s garage. Rope, cotton wool and a half empty bottle of morphine was found in the boot. He must have followed them as they left the clubs where they had been working, rendered them unconscious with morphine. And then dumped them in the back of his car. Then after carrying out his dastardly deeds with them, had dumped their bodies. Mug shots had been taken of Porter and then distributed around the clubs for the staff to ID him. And sure enough he had been seen in the club where Lisa Calhoun had worked and three where Katherine Colby had worked.

  The only peculiarity about him was that he had appeared to have paid very little interest in the strip shows. With all of the damning evidence against him Porter had been read his rights and charged with first degree murder. After Stewart Briggs had been tried and convicted Blumer had adopted a peculiar habit. A plastic packet of expensive red silk handkerchiefs that Pamela had bought him for his birthday, that he had never opened had given an him an idea. He would wear one in his top pocket, every time that he had caught a killer. The thought that an expensive handerkerchief planted in the top pocket of an off-the-peg John Collier suit may appear a little odd had not even occurred to him. He would do the same when, when Hugh Porter had been finally been tried and convicted. Pamela had found this amusing at the time. Just like she had found his penchant for wearing expensive brogue shoes with an off- the-peg John Collier suit amusing. She had quietly thought that there may be a hint of vanity behind this, although she never voiced her opinión. Yes indeed Blumer was proud of catching cold blooded serial killers before they could strike again. It was like wearing a badge of honour.

  CHAPTER 9

  Hamburg Germany

  January 1975.

  The team of builders, labourers and plumbers gladly left the Ferry after a very stormy trip from Harwich. A lot of them knew each other from working on various building projects. When this job had cropped up in Hamburg all present had jumped at the chance, because they could earn big money. To them it was just another building project anyway; it did not matter much to any of them whether it was in Germany, or the UK. The giant they only knew as Charles Cleverly had joined them right at the last minute, before they left Harwich. None of them had worked with him before and none of them had ever met him. This had suited Leon Boyd very well; he did not need friends. All he needed was to earn big money for a few months.

  Dusseldorf Germany. March 1975.

  The Visitor.

  (The Predator Is Close.

  The Predator Is Stalking Its Prey).

  The Visitor is well hidden in a thick copse of trees that is only about ten yards from one of the paths that line the park. The girl should be passing by within the next ten minutes or so. The visitor had been stalking the girl for over week and had a very good idea about her routine. She would return the dog to the old lady, who lived by the edge of the park, after taking it for a walk. She would then pass by the copse of trees, on her way home. The vistitor hated dogs. Human beings could easily be dodged and duped, but dogs couldn’t. the last time the girl had passed with the dog, the damn thing had barked and growled towards the copse, because it could sense, or smell that the visitor was hiding in there. And sure enough here she comes. Damn; a young couple are coming the other way and will pass the girl just as she passes where the visitor is lurking. Never mind tomorrow she will probably pass at the same time. The one thing that the visitor has in abundance was patience, incredible patience. The vistitor watched the girl as she passed. She was beautiful, stunningly beautiful. But that mattered very little, because the girl had something that the vistor not only wanted, but needed.

  Hamburg Germany

  September 1975

  The crew of labourers and builders piled onto the ferry. They were all in high spirits and most of them had been drinking. They had finished the contract a month early and had been paid very well, plus a bonus. Mainly thanks to the giant they only knew as Charles Cleverly. The man could shovel sand and cement into cement mixers all day without tiring. It had been pointless for anybody to try and befriend him, because he would only offer a blunt rebuff. And at dinner times he would usually have his nose stuck in a bible. While some of them had visited the red light district and various pubs, Charles Cleverly would always stay in the hostel. But he would disappear on Friday evenings and turn up again late on Sunday. Nobody would dare ask him where he had been, and assumed that he may of gone off on religous meetings. Boyd had been carefully building an image. When they had docked at Harwich, Boyd would discard the names Charles Cleverly and William Wiseman and move to London and go back to being Leon Boyd.

  He now had enough money to move about as he pleased. If he could have known the fate that awaited him in London as Leon Boyd, he would have never gone there. But fate moves in strange ways. Even men as fiendish and diabolical as Leon Boyd could meet their nemesis. And Boyd would meet his own nemesis in the most bizarre and peculiar way.

  CHAPTER 10

  Shoreditch. East London. February 1976.

  When Blumer entered his office the next day he had felt optimistic. He had not only been buoyed by the visit from Tristan and the news that Behind The Crime was about to be published, but there was something else. He thought for a while and then it had dawned on him what it was; Evonne March.Yes he could actually feel deep empathy for someone who was suffering a terrible injustice, that had nothing to do with a murder investigation. As for the news of Pamela’s demise he had felt quite indifferent, for some reason. Things were looking up for him. If he made some money from the sale of his book; the first thing he would do was have his house renovated. It was then that there was a knock on the door and a smartly dressed man in his mid fiftees entered.

  “Good morning Mister Blumer. So glad I found you Do you remeber me by any chance?”

  Blumer did indeed remember him. He had been the father of Leon Boyd’s last victim Susan Marshall, who Boyd had reputedly thrown from the fifth floor office window, before reputedly throwing himself out.

  “Yes of course. You’re the father of Susan Marshall. What can I do for you?”

  Then man then produced two news papers one old and one new and laid them out on Blumer’s desk and Blumer immediately recognised the headline on the old one. THE DOOR IS STILL AJAR.

  “Mister Blumer please hear me out. I know that you were very shabbily treated when you were removed from my daughters murder case. And I know that you were convinced that this monster Boyd had an accomplice. And you were forthright with your opinion.”

  Blumer thought for a while and decided to correct the man.

  “No. I said that Leon Boyd may of had an accomplice and there may be a couple of anomalies however little that should be looked at before the case was closed.”

  “Do
you still maintain that stance? Boyd was guilty without doubt. But how could have anybody exited the building when all of the door were locked and covered by the police.”

  “That is a mystery. But how could Boyd have got inside the building in the first place? The girl on the reception told the police that she had only left the reception for ten minutes to go to the toilet. How could a man of Boyd’s size hide in the building anyway. George Enright the caretaker had checked all of the offices, before he locked the front door. And how could Boyd have known that your daughter was working late, as she usually did on Friday nights. Unless he had been watching her every move for weeks. The cleaners had started work at six o’clock after George Enright had secured the building. Boyd was a very clever and devious man. And he moved very quickly when he targeted a victim. But this case had been different from the rest.”

  The man then pointed to an article in the new newspaper and Blumer carefully read it. A girl had recently been abducted while taken her dog for a walk at Clacton on Sea. An elderly man who saw what happened, because he was walking his own dog along the same path, about fifty yards behind her, had said that somebody, or something with immense strength had pulled the girl from the path and had dragged her up through the dense bushes that ran up the side of the cliff. The small dog had run off in terror. The old man had not caught sight of the abducter because the abducter had been covered by the bushes and it had all happened so quickly.

  Boyd was dead alright, because Blumer had seen his gigantic carcass impaled though his back on the pointed railings. Then it had occurred to Blumer could Boyd have been working with somebody that had the similar immense strength as him. The way that Boyd had avoided the police and witnesses had been a mystery. It would have been extremely difficult for man of that size by any measure to not get noticed. The man carried on talking.

  “Susan was all I had, Mister Blumer. Could you please go down to Clacton and look into this case yourself. I’ll pay you plus expenses. If I can do one thing to help bring bastards like this to justice, then at least I’ve done something.”

  Blumer felt a sudden pang of empathy for this man. He must be desperate.

  “I’ll take on the case Mister Marshall. But I’ve got two cases to investigate, before I can help you and they could take sometime. I can only hope that I can find a clue, or lead to go by. But I can’t guarantee I will find anything. I’ll phone you when I’ve wound these two up and we can take it from there I’m a man of my word and that’s all I can offer you.”

  “Thank you Mister Blumer, that would be fine. The girls name was Sian Ellis and she lived at an address in Wellsley Road. I’ve been in contact with her landlady, a widow, Mrs Edith Burns. She was very distraught as you can imagine. I have also been in contact with the only witness, Mr Henry Baker of Penfold Road. He sounded like a pleasant chap and was very helpful.”

  “Well as soon as I wind up these two cases I’ll give you a call. My sentiments are the same as yours Mister Marshall. That’s why stuck to chasing these bastards for so many years. The only real reward for for me at the end of the day was to catch them and bring them to justice. My only conditions are that I work alone and only you and I, plus this Mister Baker and Mrs Burns, know what I’m up to. The fewer people the know the better. I have my reasons for this.”

  The two investigations had taken longer than Blumer had anticipated and after completing them and giving the results to his clients he had felt dog tired. The first one was a Supermarket Manager had suspected that the staff who worked in the warehouse on the nigt shift were stealing goods. He had been correct, but it was only the supervisor. The goods would be delivered during the day by lorry and the daytime supervisor would check the stock and sign the inventories. The night stores staff would start their shift at twenty three hundred and really work hard; transferring goods from the warehouse to the supermarket and stack the shelves. The supervisor would roll up his sleeves and join in the hard work with the other two workers. They would usually finish the work about an hour early and the supervisor would let the other two go home an hour early. This is when he would bring his car from around the corner, open the warehouse doors and put a few boxes of goods into the boot of his car, then lock up the warehouse and drive home. Blumer had photographed him doing this for several nights, to establish exactly how he had operated and so there was no grey areas that could be disputed.

  The second case had been another marital problem. A woman had hired him to spy on her husband. She suspected that he may have had a secret paramour that he may be meeting, when he went away on one of his weekly business trips. She had been correct. Her husband would stop off at an address close to their own home to visit his paramour. She had been shocked and bewildwered to learn that his paramour had been a man. Tristan had been highly amused by this, Blumer had not. What a come down for a top murder detective.

  CHAPTER 11

  Blumer had given himself a two days break, after completing the two cases before telephoning Mister Marshall. It had been nearly six weeks since their meeting and he had wondered if the man would be still interested in pursuing the case; a case which would be extremely difficult to hook onto, with no apparant leads to go on. To his surprise Mister Marshall had been as determined and resolute as ever; a good sign. He had told Tristan about the case and Tristan had shared the same opinion as him. It would indeed be very difficult to hook up onto a case with no apparant leads. But Blumer being Blumer would take on any case anyway. And like a blood-hound that had sniffed blood, all he would need would be one lead and he would pursue a case to the bitter end. If Tristan could have forseen just what Blumer was letting himself in for, he probably would have strongly advised him against taking on the case in the first place.

  When he got off of the train the first thing he noticed was the sign on the platform read Walton-On-The-Naze. He could have sworn that he had boarded the train to Clacton. He approached a uniformed station guard and asked.

  “Excuse me, I thought this was the Clacton train?”

  “You got on the wrong end of the train Sir. The train is split in half at Thorpe. The front half goes on to Clacton, the rear half goes on to Walton.”

  Oh well, a good start he thought. He caught a taxi from outside the station. Spring was now in full bloom and the drive across Holland marshes was pleasant. Mr Marshall had booked him into a Bed & Breakfast in Carnarvan Road and the land lady had been expecting him. The first thing that he did was drop off his suitcase in his room and then he decided to take a look around the town. The town was clean, spacious and very pleasant. But the thing that engulfed Blumer mostly was the fresh air, that drifted in off of the North Sea. He felt more awake and aware than he had been for a long time. The first thing that he would do in the morning would be firstly to visit the only witness, Mister Henry Baker of Penfold Road, and then the girl’s landlady at Wellesley Road. That night he had visited a couple of pubs, the Marine and then the Imperial. He had only drank a couple of pints in each pub; after all he was on business, not pleasure.

  The next day he found that Penfold Road was quite close and when he rang the doorbell of Henry Baker’s house a dog barked. An elderly man opened the door and immediately knew who he was. A beautiful border collie was standing next to him looking up at Blumer with soulful eyes. Blumer was the first to speak.

  “Good morning, my name is John Blumer. I am looking for Mister Henry Baker.”

  The man although elderly immediately gave Blumer the impression of being alert and spritely.

  “Good morning Mister Blumer, you’ve found him. Mister Marshall has told me all about you. And I must say I really have been looking forward to meeting you. Poor chap was very apprehensive the last time that he spoke to me over the phone. I know all about the terrible thing that happened to his daughter. To be honest with you, I still can’t believe what I saw that day. The police interviewed me several times and I was beginning to think that they thought I may be a bit of
a Walter Mitty character. That’s the one thing I’m not. I did twenty four years in the Royal Navy and fifteen in the merchant marines. I know what I saw and so did Bonnie.”

  He then looked down at the dog, who appeared to know exactly what he had said.

  “You won’t have that problem with me Mister Baker. Please tell me everything you saw.”

  “I’ll do better than that Mister Blumer, I’ll take you there. That’s all I can do.”

  The scene of the abduction had only been a ten minute walk away. They passed the pier and climbed some steps that led up to a path that ran halfway up along the steep cliff, which was thick with bushes and fauna. After walking along the path for about half a mile the man suddenly stopped.

  “I didn’t bring Bonnie with us, Mister Blumer, because she frets and becomes distraught every time we pass this place now. Before this happened, this was our favourite walk. The girl had been walking abou fifty yards in front of us, with her little dog. It was just before seven in the morning and I had seen her about the same time, several times with her dog. I wasn’t paying much attention and without any warning somebody, or something must have grabbed her and pulled her from the path. Her dog bolted and I could not believe what happened next. I ran forward, but Bonnie would not move. So I had to leave her. Although hidden by the bushes whoever had hold of her had not just dragged her up through the bushes, but had swept her up with incredible speed. I could see the tops of the bushes moving like a wave and then nothing. The girl had only screamed once and then silence. Please believe me Mister Blumer. I did not imagine what I saw. My God, what on earth was that Mister Blumer. What was that?”