Murders Without Motive (2 page)

 “Bill Bailey here at information room, we just had a missing person report from Crampton Hall, Jessop, the Butler reporting Miss Emily Crampton is missing”.

“Thank you Bill, we are actually driving up to the Hall front door, so I will update the Chief and Jinton, thanks Bill”

The call ended as the two police cars came to a stand still.

Once alighted, Pearson approached both the Chiefs and updated them, simultaneously the main door at the front entrance of the Hall opened. A man dressed in a dark morning suit stood waiting”.

“Are you the police?” asked the man.

“We certainly are, I am Joanne Watkiss, the Chief Constable, and this is Chief Superintendent Jinton, head of the Chester Division. These officers are Detective Inspector Bailey and Detective Sergeant Gibson.

“You are, Sir?” asked Jinton

“I, gentlemen, am Jessop the Butler. I have been here for forty years. The Colonels` batman, and then later the Butler. Boy and man so to speak”

He was clearly a Jessop and a butler.

A man in his late sixties, tall, well built but not of portly proportions. He sported a clipped head of hair and an accompanying handlebar moustache. Dressed in a morning suit, he fitted the description of a Butler as all would conceive a butler would look like.

His manner, stature and speech confirmed the first impression of any visitor.

“You are reporting the disappearance of Miss Emily Crampton, I believe?” said Pearson

“That is correct, she went walking this morning as she does daily but has not returned. We are all very concerned”.

“May we please come in” said the Chief.

“You may indeed”

They walked forward and into the large high hall-way.

The police, though had all been inside there before, too often in fact in recent weeks.

A high hall, with a large wide oak staircase lined with oil paintings of previous family members. Most of the males were dressed in military uniform. The pride of place went to one of the late Colonel in company with Her Majesty the Queen, clearly taken inside Buckingham Palace. There was another obviously a leader but of Arabic appearance.

Gibson being of lowly rank stepped out of protocol by asking. “Who is the person with the Colonel there in that oil painting?”

Jessop looked him up and down then replied.

“That Sir is no less a man than The Sultan of Daram.”

Gibson had never heard of the Sultan of Daram said nothing further. Obviously he was a man of some distinguished rank and country.

The party would soon come to learn of the relevance of the Sultan of Daram and of what powers he could command. To quote police jargon, “Pull”

“Do you have a photograph of the missing person, Miss Emily?”

“I have one here”

Jessop produced a photograph. The lady featured appeared to be in her early thirties, slim build but small, very beautiful, with bright ginger hair, blue eyes and an adorable smile.

This caused Pearson to look up at the Colonel also with similar hair, as did persons in several other photographs around the hall way.

They proceeded into a room; it was, from the vast numbers of books, a library.

There were other family photographs adorned within, many of which the persons had bright ginger hair. There was however another large portrait upon the wall of the Colonel and a lady.

Jessop seeing Pearson gazing at the portrait said, “That Mr Pearson is the Colonel with the mistress Henrietta. A wonderful couple, yes indeed they are sadly missed as are the others. A nice family let us hope you find Miss Emily safe and well.

“There was silence from the visitors then Gibson jumped in to announce, “I regret Sir that a body has been recovered from the river Dee some hours ago. We suspect that this body is that of Miss Emily Crampton”.

“Oh Lord no, not another murder surely Heaven forbid”.

Jessop obviously taken aback flopped back into a chair.

Most unlike a Butler thought Gibson.

Pearson then spoke. “We will make further enquiries tomorrow; post-mortem etc and we will update you then. Until then sir, I have to tell you that in view of the previous deaths and the circumstances of this death as we are of to date. Two uniformed police officers will be stationed within the house overnight to preserve the scene”.

“Good heavens” said Jessop. “I must inform the other staff and of course Master Wilson Crampton”.

“Master Wilson Crampton?” asked Joanne Watkiss.

“Yes indeed young Master Wilson is now the only surviving member of this great family. The Estate will now pass to him and him alone”, said Jessop, in a very down hearted way.

“Where is this young Master, Jessop?” asked Jinton.

“Oh” replied Jessop. “He is far away in Daram; being the ward of the Sultan there.  Master Wilson is being privately educated. He has a private tutor employed by the Sultan to educate Wilson with the Royal children. Craig Richards. His father is or was a police officer. A detective at New Scotland Yard”, I doubt you would know him”.

Chief Watkiss and Super Jinton looked at each but made no reply.

PART TWO

THE ART OF POLITICAL PRESSURE

The following morning, 11.30am there was a knock on the door of Joanne Watkiss, Chief Constable.

“Come in” she called

The door opened it was Mildred Renton her Secretary. “Chief Superintendent Jinton is here Ma`am, with another officer”.

“Admit them” she said with a smile.

Not a Freemason being a woman, she was however now a member of a ladies group which emulated the male secret society. The phrase was used in their lodge meetings as with the men, she thought she might try it out.

Jinton walked in smiling, he was a Freemason and knew the phrase but said nothing.

“I have with me Ma`am, Constable Jock Peters, The Coroners Officer”.

“Ah, please sit down and update me, the obvious I suspect”.

Peters opened his file then said

“Professor Hallam has carried out the post-mortem on the deceased found dead in the river Dee, late yesterday afternoon”.

“The body has been identified by the Butler as that of Miss Emily Crampton”.

“I was present to represent the police. I assisted the pathologist as usual, by weighing the various organs and making notes”.

“The Pathologist found there were no signs of any natural illness or disease”.

“The causes of death as always are two”.

1a Strangulation.

1b Severe head injuries.

The strangulation.

“The circumstances were strange. There were no marks on the neck of the victim consistent with being made by a human hand”.

“There was sign of a bruise but it was wide and flat and what ever it was had pressed down upon the neck of the victim from above”.

“It was not a hard object such as stone or steel.”

“The cause remains a mystery".

“The injuries to the face and cranium however were consistent with a blow from large flat object, possibly a river stone”.

“Officers have searched the area and discovered the scene of the death was on a bend in the river some 100 yards from where the two witnesses were standing”.

“At the scene was discovered a large flat stone, this was consistent with having been used to inflict the injuries upon the victim”.

“The stone had been sent for forensic examination”.

“There were several footmarks found at the scene but also scuff marks. These have been photographed and impressions taken”.

“The set of footprints matches the prints of the feet of the deceased. Clearly the murder scuffed away his own marks”.

“Her clothing was found, this has been sent for examination”.

“Our enquiries continue Ma`am”.

“Thank you Constable Peters”.

“I can confirm that Detective Inspector Pearson and his Sergeant are continuing their enquiries”, said Jinton.

There was a knock on the door.

“I suspect that will be the Commissioner” said she.

It was, for the door opened and in strode Sir Claude Pendergast.

“Good morning Chief Constable, I am just in time it appears for an update”.

Far away from Cheshire in London there were other irons burning in the fire.

The new Prime Minister, the Right Honourable Montague Lybert was chairing his normal cabinet meeting when there was a knock on the door. He stopped in mid flow, looked up and called

“Who the devil is it?”

The devil was a devil, to his other staff at least. Miss Britney Poole his secretary, a tyrant of the first order.

“Seeing her he realised the error of his tone, “Yes Miss Poole how can I help?”

“I am so sorry to interrupt Prime Minister but The Sultan of Daram is wishing to speak with you and, immediately”.

“Who” asked he?

 “The Sultan of where?”

“Daram Sir” she replied.

“I never heard of him, some tin pot fellow seeking aid I suppose. Take his details I will get the Foreign Secretary to deal with him. We have no money for ourselves let alone giving it away”.

“Very well Sir, she replied and commenced to leave.

A voice called, “Miss Poole please, wait, just a moment.”

Lybert looked to see who had countermanded his instructions; he was not a patient man.

It was in fact General Western, once head of Special Forces, now made redundant and the Special Forces with him.

All victims in the cuts made by Lybert.

Western had been an advisor on foreign policy but his career it appeared was likely to be brief, at least thought the others present from the expression upon the face of Lybert.

Western had his head saved from rolling down the river Thames or the exercise yard at the Tower of London when Lord Macmichael the Home Secretary intervened.

“Prime Minister, if I might clarify the position.”

“Please do, but be brief we have these further budget cuts in the police and other emergency services to make”.

“Ah well Sir that is my point” replied Macmichael

“The Sultan of Daram holds the largest oil reserves in the Middle East. You may not recall the affair under the last administration?”

“His son educated here was taken by terrorists. The day was saved by a British Special Forces Officer Al Justice and several men”

“You may have read the book sir, “A Crime or Justice”

“A rescue was made. As a result the entire oil reserves of Daram were given to this country and the United States at a concessionary rate enabling us to use and resell the oil at a good profit. The contract is due for renewal shortly. Should the Sultan award those contracts to Russia or China, if you think the British Economy is faltering now, without that oil revenue the prospects would then be unimaginable”.

“My advice to you Sir is to speak immediately with the Sultan”.

Lybert stopped in his tracks then looking around at the blank faces, then at Miss Poole,

“Put the Sultan through”.

Western said, “Prime Minister the Sultan is normally referred to as Your Highness”.

Lybert stuttered but faced with no alternative said.

“Good morning your Highness how can the British Government be off assistance to Daram?”

“Good day to you Prime Minister. You will no doubt be aware of the recent murders of my close friend Colonel Crampton and members of his family”

“Yes indeed” replied Lybert looking around and shaking his head, he had no idea of what this upstart fellow was on about.

“Yes it is all in hand” replied Lybert.

The Sultan continued “The position is so I am informed that another member of the family has been discovered murdered yesterday.”

“There remains only one member left. That member is my own ward, Wilson Crampton”.

“He is currently here in Daram, being educated. The poor young man is afflicted and in a wheel chair. I am reluctant; no refuse to permit him to return unless this murderer is arrested”.

“Oh I see I will get onto New Scotland Yard and the local police immediately Your Highness”.

Shrugging his shoulders.

“I am afraid that will not be good enough Prime Minister, I would very much like you to consider arranging for a retired detective from New Scotland Yard, one Jack the Hat Richards to be put on the case immediately”.

“I will see what I can do” replied Lybert.

“Please do Prime Minister, I am told Mister Richards has recently assisted your police in several cases I cannot foresee a problem”.

There was momentary silence when the Sultan added.

“By the way Prime Minister, no doubt you will be visiting here soon together with the President of the United States to discuss the next phase for the signing of the contracts for our oil.

“Why yes of course Your Highness, oh yes”.

The call ended.

Lybert looked at Macmichael and asked.

“What the hell was that all about?”

“In any event you deal with it. Do what you have to get this Richards fellow on the case. If that is what it takes? We need the bloody oil revenue”.

Turning to the Foreign Secretary he said,

“Are you aware of this forthcoming oil business?”. If so get on with it and arrange my diary?  “Now, the next item on the agenda”.

The meeting over Macmichael returned to his office and it was not many minutes before the telephone of the Chief Police Inspector of Constabulary was buzzing had it been able to do thought Jepson it would fall off.

He picked it up “Jepson”.

“Hello Home Secretary, don’t worry I have not forgotten our golf date at the week-end.”

He stopped in mid-flow, listened then said.

“I see, you had forgotten, but that’s not why you called. I see"

There was silence from Jepson as his political master spurted out something which was, it appeared more important than a golfing date at the weekend.

He replaced the telephone then pressed the inter-com button. “Get me the Chief-Constable of Cheshire”.

It was  moments before his phone rang.

“Jepson, HMI, who is this please?”.

“Ah, you Chief-Constable.

I have just had The Home Secretary on to me he has attended a Cabinet meeting during which the Prime Minister was interrupted by the Sultan of Daram. It appears and I quote, “You are suffering with a spate of murders.”

“A family, now let me think, what are their names?"

She interrupted him “It is the Crampton family sir,”

“Yes the Crampton family it seems they are all being murdered. One left, a young man. A ward of the Sultan of Daram, even being educated there, the young man is by coincidence it seems being tutored by the son Jack Richards of the hat fame”.

The Sultan is concerned for the safety of the boy, the last of the dynasty so to speak, as a result pressure is now being put on the British Government,”

“I won’t go into the reason, suffice to say it is being requested this Jack Richards be called in to assist in the case, might you be able to assist with this, Watkiss?"

She was not surprised. In fact, she herself had considered the matter. The Commissioner was also making ever more noises.

“I will get onto it immediately, Mr Jepson”.

“Well done”, he replied, condescendingly, keep me briefed”, he concluded.

The call ended.