Iris Pierce Mysteries

Part 9

The following morning I sat with Howard in a cab racing towards the dwelling place of a certain Edward Martin, the possible owner of the locket found by Hampton. The son of the murdered woman. Thanks to Hampton's research, no doubt organised into the table format we were given by Rowena, we knew he was a thirty-two year old man with a wife and two four year old children, one girl and one boy. He was born in Maple Grove Sanatorium three decades ago when Miss Banks was fifteen. I understood why Miss Banks had decided to give him up for adoption since at her age, Beatrice banks wouldn't have even finished school! I just wondered if Edward hated her for it enough to kill her.

While me and Howard went to grill Edward Martin into submission, Hampton, joined by Rowena, went to the Black Lodge to meet with Jesperson's officer and examine the crime scene even further. Although I wasn't too sure what he hoped to find there since the weapon had already been discovered. I recalled my memories of last night. Or rather his memories. I had already explained to Howard how the murderer ended Beatrice Banks last night. The murderer climbed in through the window from the back yard but that didn't explain why the Lodge looked like a dollhouse shaken vigorously by an angry toddler when we got there. Could there perhaps be a second killer?

The atmosphere in the cab was more or less tense. Howard and I barely made eye contact, although, I had caught him several times examining me with sharp eyes like he did when looking for clues. It made me feel uneasy. 'You seemed different last night.' Howard said but it was clear he was asking a question. The cab was surrounded on all sides. Cars on either side and in the front and back. No escape. 'Different how?' I asked in my normal calm voice. I knew where he was going with this. I found a dead body, I used my psychic senses and after becoming the murderer for a few seconds, I was greatly energised. I questioned myself about this as well.

To avoid the glare I knew Howard was giving me, I pretended to be greatly interested in the still-sitting scenery of tall blocks and unmatched red-brick buildings. It wasn't nice enough to appreciate especially when sitting out a traffic jam in a small sized cab while being interrogated by a good-looking detective. Not when you were absolutely guilty. Guilty of what? I hadn't done anything wrong but I still felt guilt. Maybe it was the lack of sleep talking.

'Me and Leo have searched up and down the house but we haven't found anything else or any finger prints or clues on the corpse. I was wondering if you had seen any ghost.' I swallowed.
'Yes, there was a ghost. Very faint but it had it's hands reached out to me so I don't think it's safe.'
'Okay, well me and Robert had an idea about the case. We think it's connected to a murder we worked on two years ago.' He said, still keeping his eyes ahead of him. 'So what do you need to be sure?' I asked.
'I've got it covered.'

The next time Howard spoke, it wasn't to me. He was complaining to our driver, Douglas Stokes. He was in his fifties if not more. 'Hey, can't we hurry it up a bit? We're on a schedule here.'
'Sorry, Sir. There's a hold up. Cars aren't moving. Police are blocking the road.' Howard craned his head out the window and Stokes was right. Three police cars blocked the road with blue uniformed policemen guiding wide eyed people away from the alleyway between the bakery and the butcher's. In front of all the policemen, barking orders, was a familiar man in a dull brown coat. I recognised that moustache for sure and it seemed so did Howard. 'That's alright Stokes. Me and Iris will be getting of here thanks.'
'In the middle of the road?'
'Yes. Come on, Iris.'

The cars were immobile, trapped in the torturous traffic of Darlington. It rarely got busy here so it made more sense when I realised the problem was not the cars but the man slumped in the alleyway by the dumpsters. Police sealed off the area and me and Howard were only able to gain entrance from Inspector Jesperson. He hadn't noticed us at first, he was busy with this crime scene.

The alleyway was a narrow, sooty area. Leaves cracked beneath our feet, spiders crawled out of the drainage and twists of dead plants peeked out from under the cracks of the pavement. The dumpster with warped proportions and peeling paint was wide open. The interior contents were much worse than gruesome. The face was nothing but a mess of blood, like the victim's features were scraped off with a pointy object. There was no way anyone could identify him by looking at his corpse. His hands chopped off, lying next to the dumpster. The insects had already gotten to it. The man's legs were snapped so twisted in opposite directions. His clothes were what I recognised. The uniform was an orangey-beige apron and a tag with the name scrapped off.

'He worked at the bakery.' Jesperson said in hushed tones as if he believed the killer was lurking nearby. If this is how disgusting the corpse looked, I was glad there was no ghost to be seen.
'It's just so horrid-I can't believe someone would do something like this!' I closed my eyes. I felt Howard's arm around me, it made this whole grimy situation a little bit better. Emphasis on a little bit. 'We found a murder weapon,' Leo Jesperson said, filling up the silence. 'You won't believe what it was. A bloody rake. I don't suppose you've got any insightful deductions for us, Howard?'

'He was taken from the bakery just as they were closing up.'

'How can you tell that?' Asked Jesperson.

'Well, he's still wearing the apron. If he was on his way home, he wouldn't have been in uniform. There are flour stains of his shirt. It's a bit hard to see with all the blood but still visible. He was divorced but still keeps in contact with her.'

'And how do you know that?'
Howard moved closer to the body and put his hand inside the man's pocket. He pulled out a small photograph of a family of three. A young boy stood in the middle with a big smiling looking down at a birthday cake. But the woman's face was ripped out of the picture. 'He didn't like his ex-wife but still cared about his son who went to live with his mother. He calls regularly to check in on his child. So that's a clue to his identity. That's all I can tell. The body is too roughed up. Do an autopsy.'

'Yes, we were going to,' said Jesperson. He was looking like any other officer did whenever Howard deducted anything. He was thinking why didn't I realise that?
'How long has he been dead?' Howard asked. He wasn't taking his eyes off the mangled corpse.
'Nine hours. He was murdered around one in the morning.'

'Any chance this murder is linked to the Black Lodge deaths?' I asked this question. It had been swirling in my mind for a while. Just last night, Beatrice Banks was found dead and only a few hours after that another man was found dead. It didn't seem natural. But then again, murder wasn't natural. 'It can't be,' Howard said in reply, 'the murders are just too different. Elizabeth Dougherty was strangled, Miss Banks was stabbed. If it weren't for the relationship between the two dead women I might have even said their deaths weren't connected. The circumstances are just too dissimilar.' My eyes returned to the blood covered face.

He was murdered around one in the morning. What was he even doing here? The bakery doesn't open until eight in the morning. When I relayed my question to Howard, he showed the most interest in this case. 'Leo, do you think I could take on this case?'
'Howard, you are already working on the case of Elizabeth Dougherty! You can't do two cases at once!' Howard looked deflated at the fact but accepted it nonetheless.
'Fine. But Leo, I want you to tell me everything you find out.'
'I can't give out information, Howard! Not even to you!' Jesperson's moustache ruffled as he talked and I realised he had the face of a man who had not slept in years.
'Alright, Leo. But if I have any need for it, I will come and ask for information. If the Black Lodge is connected to this man's death, you will be hearing from me.'