Blood Brook by Robert F. Clifton (classic romance novels .TXT) 📖

and for how long?”

“September and for two months”.

“No way”.

“Why not?”

“It's too long away from the job”.

“I'm going to Australia. This is maybe a once in a lifetime trip. There's things I want to do and people I want to see”.

“Who do you know in Australia that's so important that you have to go there to see them?”

“Remember Doc Edwards? I want to visit him and his wife”.

“I can't imagine anyone putting up with you for sixty days. What else are you going to do there?”

“Photograph kangaroos. What the hell difference does it make what I want to do. What I want to do is get to the West coast of Australia. Just sign the card”.

“Let me think about it”.

“What is there to think about. I have accumulated sixty days vacation time. I'm entitled to a vacation and I want sixty days”.

“How is your case load?”

“I have no case load unless you're holding me to an unsolved murder that occurred back in nineteen thirty nine”.

“No robberies or larcenies over ten thousand dollars?”

“Nope”.

“Like I said I'll think about it. Right now it's June. Your request is for September. You can wait”.

Wallace turned and walked out of the office.

After taking the elevator to his office floor Captain Wallace walked past the desk of Sergeant Stiles. “Frank, I want to see you in my office”, said Wallace.

Stiles got up and followed the Captain. Once inside Wallace took a seat and then said, “I'm going on vacation in September. I'll be gone for two months. While I'm away I'm leaving you in charge of the squad. Right now our case load is empty. Let's hope it stays that way. There's a test coming up for Sergeant and Lieutenant. Myers and McKenna are eligible, just as you are for Lieutenant. Use the down time for all of you to study.”

“Two months. What are you going to do for two months?”, asked Stiles.

“Hopefully a lot of fishing in Australia. I'm going to visit Doc Edwards”.

“Hey, that's great. How is he?”

“Happily married and practicing geriatric medicine.”

“He was one damn good pathologist. He sure helped us in a lot of cases. Incidentally, what do you think about that killing in Blood Brook?”

“The only question I have is why isn't the State Police investigating it”, said Wallace.

“There must be a reason”, Stiles replied.

“If there is, it's political. Jim Gallagher wants to be governor. His plan is first, to be Attorney General, then Governor. He's had a long running feud with the Superintendent of the State Police. To me it looks like he wants to take credit in solving this homicide and at the same time shut out the Troopers”, Wallace explained.

When the Sergeant left the office Wallace removed the open letter he had received from Manfred Edwards and read it again.

June 5, 1978

Hello hotshot,

How the hell are you? Nice of you to finally get off of

your ass and write to me. So, you're coming to down under. It's about time. I want you to know that you are always welcome, but at the same time

Your divorce from Mary left a bad taste with Sharon. Also, you mention the possibility of arriving with an Emily Wescoat. Of course she will be welcomed, but the sleeping arrangements might have to be adjusted. Sharon's no prude, but in her mind she's still loyal to Mary. Hopefully, we'll straighten things out before you get here.

As far as fishing I plan on chartering a boat. We'll be fishing in the Indian Ocean. I'll need to know your flight number so I can pick you up in Perth. By the time you get here your ass will be sore from sitting so long while flying. See you later,

Manny

 

July 4, 1978 fell on a Tuesday resulting in a long weekend combining, Saturday, Sunday and Monday with the traditional holiday.

The population of Nautilus Beach increased from it's native population of forty thousand to two hundred and fifty thousand with visitors from Pennsylvania and New York. The results were increased traffic in the streets, drunks, fights, parking violations, noise, trash and disorderly people. Fortunately, although there was two stabbings none resulted in a killing and the Major Crime Squad was not called.

On the night of the fourth of July Robert Wallace and Emily Wescoat stood on the sixth floor balcony of Robert's condo and watched the fireworks being shot from Miller's Pier out over the ocean. Thousands of bystanders lined the boardwalk below and Wallace could hear the ahs and ohs from the spectators as each pyrotechnic exploded in the night sky displaying flashes of different colors. When it was finally over Emily walked back inside and said, “That was nice. Now, I'll get going”.

“Why don't you spend the night. The traffic after the fireworks is going to be horrible. Stay here, get up early, go home, change cloths then go to work”, said Robert”.

“I have no intention of sleeping with you”, she said.

“I don't expect you to. You take the bed, I'll use the pull out couch”.

“I didn't know the couch had a hidden bed”.

“Yep. I use it for guys who usually are too drunk to drive or women too homely to sleep with”.

“So, you're saying I'm homely”.

“Nope, I'm saying in your case I'm a gentleman.”

“Thank you”.

“For what?”

“For being a gentleman”.

 

Wednesday July 5, 1978 James Gallagher looked at the black and white, glossy photographs of Greta Shoemaker's dead body. He stared at the crescent shape wounds in her skull. There appeared to be three injuries, each one deeper than the other. “What can you tell me about what appears to be blows to her head?”, asked the Prosecutor.

Neither Carson or Hudson responded. “I asked a question. Do one of you know about the victims injuries?”, asked Gallagher.

“According to the Medical Examiner the cause of death was trauma to the brain caused by a depressed fracture”, said Carson.

“Give it to me in layman’s terms”.

“Whatever the killer used when striking the head one of the blows fractured the skull in such a way that bone fragments were forced into the brain causing death”, Carson replied.

“Very good. There's hope for you yet”.

Carson smiled.

“I don't know what the hell you're smiling about. These pictures, these photographs were all taken at the county morgue. Not one damn photo of the victim at the crime scene. Alright, too late now. What did you learn from the people you spoke to in Blood Brook”, Gallagher asked.

“Nothing, either no one knew anything or they wouldn't talk to us.

Some wouldn't even open their doors”, said Hudson.

“Truck drivers, nature lovers, hikers, photographers even the curious, did you talk to anyone?”

“I thought you wanted us to talk to the people that live out there”, said Carson.

“Did you at least safeguard the crime scene?”

“Yes sir. The Sheriff has detailed men there”, said Hudson.

“Not bad, considering it's too late. Get out!”

That night, at nine o'clock Dorothy Timberlake sat in her living room watching one of her favorite television shows, Barney Miller. As she sat laughing, unknown to her was the fact that fifty yards away and

hidden by thick pines, someone was watching her. Mosquitoes swarmed and fireflies flashed. Going un-noticed was the glow from a cigarette as the observer made plans.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

Dorothy Timberlake

 

On Wednesday, July 26, 1978 at Ten A.M. Dorothy Timberlake was vacuuming the living room rug. With her back to the front door and the roar of the vacuum cleaner motor running she failed to hear the doorbell ring. She did turn at the sound of someone banging on the front door. She shut off the sweeper and in a loud voice said, “Just a minute!”

When she opened the door she saw a man standing there holding a package wrapped in brown paper. “Miss Dorothy Timberlake?”, he asked.

“Yes, but I'm not expecting anything”, she said.

“Well, according to the address here on box this parcels for you”, he said handing her the package.

Dorothy took the package, turned and took three steps into the living room. “If you'll wait just a moment I'll get my pocketbook and give you something for your trouble”, she said.

A sever blow to the top of her head caused her to stagger. The second blow took her to her knees. The third impact caused her death.

At six pm. on the same day Robert Wallace turned on his television, sat in his recliner and waited for the local news to come into view. When it did he was surprised to learn that another woman had been murdered in the hamlet of Blood Brook. He listened carefully to the answers the county Prosecutor, James Gallagher gave to the television network reporter.

“What can you tell us about the killings in Blood Brook, Mr. Gallagher?, asked the female reporter.

“I can tell you this. My investigators are on top of these hideous crimes and are gathering facts as well as evidence in both the Shoemaker and now the Timberlake cases”.

“Would you say that there is a serial killer on the loose?”

“By definition a serial killer is one who kills three or more people with a cooling off period in between. So, my answer is, no”.

“Can you tell us how these women were killed. The information we have is they were bludgeoned to death. Is that so?”

“I can't comment about that at this time”.

“Do you have any suspects?”

“No comment.”

“Well then, can you say that the people of Blood Brook are safe in their homes?”

“Absolutely, I understand that Sheriff O'Connor has stepped up patrols”.

“I see, is there anything else you would like to say pertaining to these homicides?”

“Anyone with any information related to the deaths of Greta Shoemaker and Dorothy Timberlake are asked to call 951-6677. This is a special and direct line I have had installed for assistance in these cases. My investigators will take your calls and all information will be kept confidential”.

“Thank you Mr Gallagher. This is Betty Hopkins for Atlantic Television Media in Blood Brook, New Jersey”.

“Horse shit! You don't have a damn thing. If you did you'd be crowing nice and loud in front of the cameras”, said Wallace as he got up and shut off the television. He then went to the ringing telephone on his desk and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”, he said.

“I'm glad I found you at home. You are to report to the County Prosecutor tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. Gallagher requested that you be assigned to him. You're to head the investigation into the two murders that occurred out there in Blood Brook”, said Chief Monahan.

“Why me? I'm not the only homicide investigator in the world. Why doesn't he use the State Police? Besides, I'm getting ready to go on vacation”, Wallace replied.

“He asked for you and he's getting you. Have a nice evening”.

The next morning Captain Robert Wallace sat in front of the desk of James Gallagher, County Prosecutor. “I'm sure you know about the two women being killed in Blood Brook. This is the file my investigators have compiled relating to what they have done so far in the case. I'm sure it will be beneficial in your entry into the investigation. At the same time I will assign my detectives to you. Use them as you see fit. Each piece of evidence, each new witness, each discovery no matter how slight is to be reported to me by you and only you. Now, I think I have covered everything, if not let me know. Do you have any questions?”, said Gallagher.

“I do have one question”, Wallace replied.

“And, that is?”

“What makes you think that I would work under those conditions?”

“Conditions? What conditions?”

“ For starters, handing me a file of worthless information that if I was to take it as important to the investigation would set me back probably twenty four hours. Next, assigning your investigators to me. Your investigators couldn't detect a fart in a telephone booth. Finally, the fact that I'm expected to give you a daily briefing on every move I make isn't going to happen. I don't work that way. If you want to know what I'm doing or plan to do read my reports.”

“I don't