Chapter One Rose Moss Bog

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Case Of The Bog Bodies

by

Robert F. Clifton

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Case Of The Bog Bodies

Copyright 2017 by Robert F. Clifton

All rights reserved. No part of this book

may be reproduced or transmitted in any

form or by any means without written

permission from the author.

 

 

Cover by Edward J. Clifton

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The reader is advised that this is a work of fiction.

Any similarity to names, places or events is purely

coincidental.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alistair Basham sat in his favorite chair in his study. He was reading a new book he had purchased on the subject of blood type as evidence in criminal cases when his

interest was interrupted by the ringing telephone. “Blast!,” he said aloud as he got up out of the chair and walked to his desk. Picking up the receiver he said, “Yes! What is it?”

“Alistair? This is Joyce. I need you to come up here,” she said.

“Up to Hesterton? What on earth for?,” he asked.

“I found bodies, two to be exact, but I fear there might be more,”she replied.

“Well Pet, seems to me that's what you went up there to find. Why in the world do you need me?”

“Because the bodies are not from the neolithic or Roman period. These are modern and they are the bodies of baby's. They appear to have been new born”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Table Of Contents

 

Chapter One......Rose Moss Bog

Chapter Two......Bog Bodies

Chapter Three...Seven

Chapter Four.....Blue Ribbon

Chapter Five......Evidence

Chapter Six........Manchester City

Chapter Seven...Sybil Morgan

Chapter Eight....Charles Fields

Chapter Nine.....Derbyshire

Chapter Ten.......Ainsworth House

Chapter Eleven..Profile

Afterword

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

Rose Moss Bog

 

Alistair Basham sat on a chair in the master bedroom of the house located at 1600 Hitman Road in Harrow, England. As he did he reluctantly watched his wife, Joyce as she packed a large suitcase with clothing she would need for her trip and her assignment. “I don't know why you are taking on this task love.

You are a paleontologist. This place you are going near Hesterton should hold no pre-historic fossils that you would be interested in finding,” said Basham.

“One never knows darling. What I do know is that the university that pays me and pays me well asked me to go to Rose Moss Bog. As a result I shall be going. Once there I will work with Alan Shaffer, He is the archeologist in charge of the dig. If I can be of assistance jolly good. If not, then so be it,” Joyce replied.

“But why go now? Summer is approaching. I thought we might spend a fortnight near the beach. Take in some sun,” Alistair added.

“The dig is now during the month of May. That means less rain”, Joyce responded.

“You will be working in a bog. What difference will a bit of rain make?”

“Actually none. I'll probably be working under a canopy.”

“And, where will you be staying in this town where munitions were once made,” he asked.

“A place called the Bridgeport Inn. Since you mentioned my stay you should also be aware that all of us will be taking the train to Hesterton. That leaves you with the motor car,” said Joyce.

“ Oh how nice considering the fact that I usually walk to the bus stop,” he replied.

“Well, that's up to you. Just remember to take the umbrella,” Joyce advised.

“Now be honest. What do you yourself expect to find in a place near Hesterton? The neolithic period goes back to ten thousand, two hundred years B.C. Your interest goes beyond that time,” he said.

“You my dear are a noted criminologist and I am the only paleontologist in this marriage. I will tell you that the first dinosaur fossil found in England occurred in the year sixteen seventy six. It was a thigh bone. It was thought at that time to be the thigh bone of a giant. It was later identified as coming from a Megalosaurus. Nonetheless, should I find evidence of a pre-historic civilization all well and good. If not then perhaps artifacts from the Romans or from a time when our forefathers painted themselves blue.”

“Very well. I should know better than to try to get you to change your mind once it's made up. Make sure that you take your sunscreen and mobile along with the charger,” Alistair advised.

“ And just what will you be doing while I'm away?”, asked Joyce.

“Well, with no class to teach during the summer I shall concentrate on my roses and vegetable garden. I thought that this year I might plant rutabagas,” Basham answered.

“And beets dear. Don't forget the beets,” Joyce added.

*************

At nine o'clock the next morning Alistair shook hands with Alan Shaffer who then took Joyce Basham's suitcase and loaded it into the dark blue Land Rover. “Good by love. Enjoy yourself in your work and don't forget to call,” said Basham as he hugged his wife and kissed her. He then stood at the curb of Hitman Road and watched the SUV drive out of sight. He then turned and looked at the two story, red brick house with its white painted window frames. Soon the small front lawn would need mowing and the shrubbery trimmed as well. It was his home. It was a place that had survived the German bombing of London and the surrounding communities such as Harrow during World War Two. He stood remembering the need to take shelter when the bombers came. He recalled the sounds of British anti-aircraft guns firing in the distance and the streaks of bright light that lit the night sky as search lights attempted to find Luftwaffe planes in the black night sky. The house had survived. He had survived. As a matter of fact he had survived two World Wars, having served in France during the first war. Now the house was also the home of his wife and her professional position was taking her away from him. Still, she had a right to work and enjoy her profession. She was entitled to work the dig. After all, she had spent years studying and working at sites all over the world. At the same time she never complained when he worked a criminal case as one of England's foremost criminologist.

He started to walk towards the front door. When he did he did so with a slight limp. The limp was a constant reminder of the wound he had received in France during the battle of the Somme. Now, in two months he would he would be sixty five years old. “Sixty five years old. I served in one war witnessed another and then this thing they called the “Korean conflict came along. It seems that most of my life has dealt with a war taking place in some place or another,” he thought to himself.

Entering the house to him it already felt empty. He missed Joyce immediately. Going at once to his study he picked up the file containing the papers related to an unsolved murder that took place in 1943. Four boys had been playing in the Hagely Woods, Worcestershire. After climbing a tree they discovered the remains of a woman stuffed inside a hollow Wych elm tree.

When the body was examined experts estimated that the woman had been about thirty five years old and had died as the result of asphyxiation when taffeta had been stuffed in her mouth. “Taffeta? It was estimated that the woman actually died in 1941.The war was still on in 1943. Most taffeta was being made in either China or India. I'm more than certain that no English fabric company was importing taffeta during that time. Therefore,

the taffeta had to come from a pre-war garment,” thought Basham.

Alistair continued to read and study the written reports from the case. One theory was that the skeleton remains were at the time that of a woman thought to have been a German spy. This woman was later identified as possibly being Clara Bauerle which could have been pronounced, Clarabella. Clara Bauerle

had been a cabaret singing in Germany. Her career suddenly ended in 1941. “ Merely co-incidental. Research into the background of the victim thought to be that of Clara Bauerle does not mention her marriage status. Since a gold wedding ring was found with the skeletal remain this cast doubt that the victim was Clara Bauerle,” Basham reasoned.

He continued to study what the police had provided as evidence. It wasn't much. Nonetheless he had solved other crimes with fewer clues to work a case. However, without going out to the original crime scene and questioning those who lived in the area at the time he was more or less handicapped when it came to a theory. He closed the file then looking at the clock on his study wall noticed that it was nearing Elevenses, that late morning work break most English took with a cup of tea along with a muffin, biscuit or scone. Alistair preferred what was termed, “Builders Tea”. It was brewed strong then mixed with milk and sugar. He walked into the kitchen. There he filled the copper kettle with water, placed it on the stove and turned on the gas burner. He turned slowly realizing just how empty the house felt to him. He wasn't use to being alone. Even before his marriage he had maintained a housekeeper. Marjorie Helm had kept his house for years,even through the blitz. He remembered the many times they huddled together in the cellar listening to the German bombs falling on London. He remembered the taste of her excellent Sheppard’s Pie. She was gone now, passed on. He visited her grave on special holidays. Now, Joyce was gone away on an archeological dig. “ Good for her. I hope she's successful. She enjoys her work. So do I. Yet, nothing is there for me at the moment. The police have not requested my services for some time now. Is it the lack of criminal cases or the lack of interest in me because of my age?,”he asked himself.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the whistling tea kettle and he turned back towards the stove. After preparing his tea he took a seat at the kitchen table. There, deep in thought and missing his wife he sipped the beverage and took occasional small bites of scone. When he was finished with his tea and scone he got up from the table and carried his cup to the kitchen sink.

Then returning to the table he gathered up a few crumbs and took them to the dust bin where he deposited them. “ So much for Elevenses. Hardly killed a half an hour. Supper will be worse. Maybe I'll dine out tonight. I've been fancying mutton for some time. Funny, Joyce prefers lamb over mutton. Oh well, to each their own as the saying goes,” he thought again.

Alistair turned at the sound of someone at the front door. He glanced at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. “ Almost noon. It's probably the postman,” he thought. He listened carefully. Upon hearing the opening and closing of the postbox he began walking to the front of the house. By the time he got to the front door and opened it the postman had disappeared. Alistair open the postbox and removed a single envelope. He looked at it and saw that it was the electric bill from British Gas.

“Bloody robbers,charging us citizens with the high cost of gas and electricity. Where else can we buy energy? No where and they know it and take advantage of the fact,” he thought to himself.

Entering the house again he walked into his study. There he placed the bill on his desk. He never bothered with the payment of bills. At first, Mrs. Helms took responsibility for the payment of all household needs, electricity, gas and food. All Alistair did was either write checks or give her cash. That method continued with his marriage. There was one difference. Joyce now wrote the checks. “ She should be here right now taking care of things. Is she? No. She's sloshing around in a wet

peat bog looking for only God knows what. She's a paleontologist. Normally she would be looking for hominid remains from 15,000 to 10,000 years ago. Now, she's working someone else' s dig site. Alan Shaffer's archeological site. What ever she does or finds he will get most of the credit. On top of that they might find evidence from the bronze age or perhaps signs of the Romans in England. However, I doubt if they will find anything worth noting,” Alistair thought to himself as he made his way back to his study.

On the way to his recliner chair Basham picked up the cold case file related to the woman's body found in a hollow tree in Worcestershire. Once seated and comfortable he opened the manila folder and re-examined the facts again. “ This is a bloody waste of time. I need to see and scrutinize physical evidence. Talk to witnesses such as the boys who are now men that discovered the woman's remains in the tree. If anyone was to ask me where to start I'd have to say the pubs, the local pubs. It's not too late. Both the pub owners, bar keeps and even the customers should be alive today. That's where I would start. Surely someone would or could recall seeing an attractive blonde woman either alone or with some bloke. Perhaps the local police did that. Nonetheless police often fail to stay consistent particularly when it comes to interviewing

witnesses. Often they get caught up in several crimes happening in the same period of time. As a result they fail to go back and ask questions again and again with the people in the first case.

Suddenly bored with the Worcestershire Woman In The Wych Tree Case Alistair closed the folder and placed it on the table next to his chair. He then got up and went to his desk. There he lifted the receiver off of the telephone cradle and dialed the number for Joyce’s mobile. It rang three times before she answered it. “Hello?”, she said.

“Hello Love. Are you all settled in?”, he asked.

“Just about. As a matter of fact I've just finished unpacking. What have you been doing?,” she asked.

“Nothing much. I puttered around the house. Tried to get interested in a cold case murder that happened back in the war years. However, I quickly got bored with it.”

“I see. Make sure you have a nice supper dear.”

“Actually I was thinking of dining out this evening. I seem to fancy mutton.”

“Then by all means go out, order it and enjoy it because you won't get it at home from me.”

“I know that.”

“You mentioned being bored. Have you worked in the garden?”

“Not yet.”

“Then I suggest that you do.”

“Perhaps I will. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Be sure you do.”

“ I will. When do you start work?”

“Tomorrow. The students have set up the tents and canopy.”

“And you actually believe that you will find something there in Rose Moss Bog?”

“Certainly. I believe that we will find items, particularly from the Iron Age. There were villages and societies. The people were agriculturalists, raising animals in captivity as well as growing crops. The inhabitants probably traded with the Romans.”

“Well, if you say so.”

“ Anything else love?”, she asked.

“Not at the moment. Nonetheless, let me know if you find anything different and important,”he answered.

“I will. Bye for now.”

“Good by.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

Bog Bodies

 

Three days later Alistair Basham sat in his favorite chair

in his study. He was reading a new book he had purchased on the subject of blood type as evidence in criminal cases when his interest was interrupted by the ringing telephone. “Blast!” he said aloud as he got up out of his chair and walked to his desk. Picking up the receiver he said, “Yes! What is it?”

“Alistair? This is Joyce. I need you to come up here,” she said.

“Up to Hesterton? What on earth for?”, he asked.

“I found bodies, two to be exact, but I think there might be more,” she replied.

“Well Pet it seems to me that's what you went up there to find. Why in the world do you need me?”

“Because the bodies are not from the neolithic or Roman period. They are modern and they are baby's. They appear to have been newborn.

“ Are you sure that you need me? It's almost a two hour drive from here to there.”

“ Yes, I need you. I don't know what I've uncovered but I have the feeling that some type of crime has been committed. Besides you can take the train or bus.”

“ And rent a motor car after I get there. I don't think so. Have you notified the police?”

“Yes, of course.”

“What have they done or said?”

“Quite naturally they took the bodies for examination. Fortunately they are allowing us to continue working.”

“And they made no mention of a crime being committed?”

“No. Then again they might believe that they are what is known as bog bodies.”

“Bog bodies?”

“ Yes. I'll explain that when you get here,” said Joyce.

“Very well. I still don't know why you need me there,” Alistair replied.

“ As a criminologist I thought you might be interested.

“At my age I'm only interested in sitting in my chair with a good book.”

“Stop being difficult pack a bag and drive up here,” said Joyce sternly.

“Alright, alright, I'll be there tomorrow.'

“Fine. I'll have the hotel give us another room.”

“With a bath I hope.”

“Naturally.”

*****************

At eight AM the next morning Alistair placed his packed suitcase in the boot of the 1952 silver and black Bentley. Then after closing it he made his way to the driver side door. He entered, sat, made himself comfortable, turned on the ignition and after placing the automobile in motion began the long drive to Hesterton.

When he left the suburbs of London he eventually made his way to the countryside. It had been some time since he had been out of the city and surrounding area. Now, he began seeing

farm fields and hedge rows. Now and then he passed a few cows standing behind fences grazing on new spring shoots of grass.

The morning sun rose steadily warming the Spring air and at the same time increasing the temperature inside the automobile.

Alistair lowered the window next to him allowing fresh air to enter the vehicle which refreshed him.

His attention to the road was interrupted when he noticed a flock of carrion crows appearing as a black steak in the morning sky as they left their roosting place in the trees.

Hours later Alistair drove down Chapel Street in Hesterton. He stopped the Bentley in front of the Bridgeport Inn, got out of the automobile, got his suitcase, locked the doors and entered the hotel.

He was greeted by the desk clerk. “Good day sir. May I be of assistance?,” asked the man.

“Indeed. I believe you have a room registered now to a Mr. and Mrs. Alistair Basham. I am Mr. Basham,” said Alistair.

“Ah, yes sir. Your wife told me to expect you. You are in room two thirty seven. It is a master bedroom with a lounge and kitchen. It also has a view of the street.”

“Wonderful, but I just drove what appeared to be the length of Chapel Street, so I imagine that I've seen most of it but thank you.”

“You are welcome sir. Here is your key.”

“Is my wife on the premises?,” Basham asked.

“No sir. She and the rest of the party left for the bog right after breakfast,” answered the clerk.

“I have parked my motor car in front. Will it be alright to leave it there?”

“Yes sir.”

“And after I get situated I should like a lunch.”

“You can dine in the Pub sir or perhaps your room providing your wife has supplied provisions.”

“Excellent. Room two thirty seven you say?”

“Yes sir.”

Alistair climbed the stairs to the second floor walked a short distance in a hallway and found his room. He entered, stopped and surveyed the lodgings. Satisfied, he then unpacked his suitcase placing garments in bureau drawers and closets. He then went downstairs again and made his way to the pub. There he ordered a lunch of roast beef. He was pleased to find that the plate the waitress brought to him consisted of roast beef, potatoes, carrots, cauliflower, spinach and asparagus. He also had a pint of beer.

After lunch he decided to take a walk. As he did he looked into shop windows. After a while he stopped in front of a small book shop. Interested he entered. A brass bell above the door rang loudly and a small built, balding, bespectacled man entered the store from a room in the rear. “Good day sir. May I help you?,” said the man Alistair assumed to be the proprietor.

“I say my good man. I'm hoping that you might have a copy of, “ A History Of Crime In England, Volume One by L.O.

Pike, published in 1873,” said Alistair.

“No sir. I'm afraid not. I could see if it is available and order it for you if you would like.”

“No, I'm not from these parts and shall only be here for a short duration. However, thank you for your time sir. I own volume two and was hoping that by chance you might have volume one,” said Basham.

Shortly after five PM Joyce Basham walked through the hotel room door. “ Well, you have a smudge of mud on your nose. The knees of your trousers are wet and you smell like dead

grass. All in all to me you are one beautiful sight,” said Alistair.

“Thank you love. How was your drive up?, asked Joyce.

“Rather boring I'd say. Fortunately there was no traffic to speak of but the scenery appeared to be one farm field after another. Now, what's this nonsense about finding the bodies of modern day babies?”

“Can it wait dear? I fancy a hot bath, fresh clothing and we can discuss what I, make that we have found. I'll tell you all about it at supper,” Joyce explained.

“Very well,” Alistair replied.

At seven thirty PM the Basham's sat down for dinner at the hotel pub. Joyce ordered a rack of lamb. Alistair a roasted chicken. As they both sipped a cup of tea Basham said, “So now what's this bog thing all about?”

“In your career have you ever heard of the term, “Bog bodies?”, she asked.

“No. I can't say that I have.”

“Quite naturally bog bodies are human bodies that have been found in bogs all over the world. A bog body is a human cadaver that has been naturally mummified in a peat bog. They have been dated to between eight thousand BCE and the Second World War. Unlike most ancient remains, some that I have discovered and analyzed, bog bodies retain their skin and internal organs. This is due to the unusual conditions of the area.

These conditions include highly acidic water, low temperature and a lack of oxygen. These factors all combine to preserve and severely tan the skin. While the skin is well-preserved the bones are usually not. Acid in the peat dissolves the calcium in the bones.”

“I see. And these baby's what is their condition?,” he asked.

“Skin, just skin.”

“And you say they are modern. How did you make that decision?”

“One body was that of an infant boy. He had been circumcised. The only ancients practicing that ritual during the Iron Age time period were the Hebrews in the Holy land.”

“True, true. However, did you consider that the foreskin

might have fallen off during the preservation process?” asked Basham.

“Yes dear. Using a magnifying glass we not only found evidence of a clean cut, but a thread we identified as gauze,”

Joyce explained.

“I see. What I don't understand is this sudden discovery of what you archeologists refer to as bog bodies. Is this something new?

“No dear. The majority of bog bodies which include Tollund Man, Grauballe Man and Lindow Man date back to the Iron Age. Most of these finds were in northwest European lands, mostly in Denmark, Germany, the Netherlands and here in the British Isles.

“Strange. Very Strange,” Alistair replied.

“What is strange is the similarities. Each, lets call them specimens. Each specimen appeared to have died a violent death.

And each had a lack of clothing. Some archeologists believe these men were killed and placed in the bogs as part of either a cultural tradition of human sacrifice or they were executed criminals.

“ Ah, yes. Yet, you my dear have discovered what you believe are the preserved bodies of newborn babies. You must admit that there is a difference,” Bashman suggested.

“You have a point dear but it's immaterial. Let me explain.

A body was found in a peat bog in northern Germany. At first the police thought that the body was that of a murder victim.

Scientific examination revealed that the body, a bog body was that of a girl believed to have been between sixteen or twenty years old. It was estimated that she had died two thousand seven hundred years ago. So that means that all species of humans have had their bodies placed in the bogs. This includes

girls, woman, men and now babies. The difference is that our findings indicate that the bodies are modern,” said Joyce.

“How modern?”

“At least, twentieth century.”

“I see. Interesting. Very interesting,” said Basham.

“Isn't it.”

“Where are these bodies right now?”, asked Alistair.

“Probably in the city morgue. As mentioned we gave what we found to the local police. Once they determine one way or another if indeed a crime has been committed then they have control of the specimens. If not then we shall have them returned and conduct further examinations on them.”

“Were photographs taken?.” asked Basham.

“Yes. The film is now at the local photographers shop,” Joyce answered.

“I shall want to view them of course.”

“Naturally. It is one of the reasons I asked you to come up here.”

“Any other reasons?”

“Truthfully? I missed you.”

****************

The next day Alistair walked to the Hesterton Police Station. When he entered he was met by the Desk Sergeant,

Ellsworth Dabney. “Good morning sir. May I be of service?”, asked the Sergeant.

“Yes you may. My name is Alistair Basham. My wife is one of the archeologists working a scientific dig at Rose Moss Bog.

I believe she was the one that discovered two bodies those being what is thought to be newborn babies. I would like to know where there bodies are at present.”

“I see. Are you an archeologist sir?”, asked the Sergeant.

“No. I'm a criminologist.”

“ If a crime has been committed no one has informed us with that information.”

“If nothing else failing to disclose the death of an infant is a crime my good man. Now then, the bodies where are they?”

“It is my understanding that they are now in the possession of the Bolton Central Police Station,” said the Sergeant.

“Why there?”

“We don't have the facilities here in Hesterton. There they have access to a pathologist, laboratory and technicians.”

“Fine. Do you have an address?”

“Yes sir. The station is located on Scholey Street in Bolton.”

“Thank you Sergeant.”

Later Basham sat in his room reading a newspaper. He looked up as the hotel room door opened and in walked Joyce.

“Finished for the day Pet?”, he asked.

“Yes. The police came to the bog and interrupted our work.

They asked question after question and took photographs of the bog and the location where I found the bodies.”

“It is possible that their appearance is a result of my conversation with the local desk Sergeant on duty today,” Basham advised.

“What did you say? I hope you didn't say or do anything that will force the locals to close down the dig Alistair.”

“The bloke inferred that no crime had taken place. I merely advised him of the law, that's all.”

“Well, they did more investigating today then they had done before. Please don't do or say thing that will jeopardize our work here,” said Joyce.

“I wouldn't think of doing such a thing. Not my fault the man has a thin skin,” Basham replied.

“ Anyway, we return to work in the morning,” said Joyce

“And I shall try hard to find something to do. As a matter of fact I'm thinking of going home. Nothing for me to do here. At least at home I have my books and my garden.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Now where shall we dine tonight?”, he asked.

At ten thirty AM the next morning Alistair answered his ringing mobile. “Hello,” he said.

“Alistair? Come quick. We have found three more bodies of babies,” said an excited Joyce.

“I say. Really? I'm on my way. Have you notified the police?”

“Not yet.”

“Don't until I get there,” he instructed.

Twenty minutes later Alistair Baham gazed upon the orange-brown colored preserved bodies of three infants that appeared to have been newborns. “Were the other bodies the same color as these?,” he asked his wife.

“Yes. The color of the skin is probably caused by the acid in the peat.”

“Turning to Alan Shaffer Basham said, “I'm afraid this time they will shut you down old boy. Your dig site just turned into a crime scene.”

“Why?.” asked Shaffer.

“If you look closely at the bodies you will notice strands of what is left of a blue ribbon on their throats. The ribbon was more then likely used to strangle the babies soon after they were born. Whoever killed them then placed the bodies here in the bog,” Basham explained.

After the local police were notified two uniformed officers and one investigator arrived. Alistair informed the investigator

about the blue ribbon strand on the throats of the infant bodies.

“Now I do not wish to be dogmatic my good man but this time I am sure that you will agree that a crime has indeed been committed,” said Basham.

“I agree,” said the investigator.

“And you are?”, asked Alistair.

“ Inspector Godwin. Alfred Godwin.”

“Alistair Basham. Doctor Alistair Basham, Criminologist.

I am staying at the Bridgeport Inn. Should you need my services don't hesitate to call me. There is no charge. Nonetheless, I would suggest that after you have photographed the area and listed witnesses allow the dig to continue. You see as you know two other bodies have been found previously. Now today three more have been found. The question is how many more are here? Of course this is only a suggestion sir,” said Basham.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

Seven

 

Alistair Basham sat quietly using a magnifying glass to study the eight by ten inch black and white photographs taken of the first two bodies found in the bog. “Do you notice anything dear?”, asked Joyce.

“No. I was looking for signs of either traces of the blue ribbon or indentations in the throats of the infants which would reveal that strangulation was the cause of death. There being neither it raises the possibility that in the first two cadavers found, suffocation rather then strangulation was the cause of death. With a newborn it would be easy simply by placing a hand over the nose and mouth.”

“But the other bodies had the ribbon around the throat,” said Joyce.

“True. This indicated to me that more than one person is responsible for the deaths of the children. One used suffocation.

The other used strangulation as a means to kill.”

“Now what?,” asked Joyce.

“Now I need a time when these deaths took place. Have you or Alan done any carbon dating?”, asked Basham.

“Not as yet,” said Joyce.

“Please do so. Once I have the time of death I have a starting point.”

******************

Basham sat in the hotel lobby reading the Morning Mail newspaper. He was interrupted when he heard a male voice speak his name. “Doctor Basham?”

Alistair looked up over the top of the newspaper and seeing Alfred Godwin replied, “Ah Inspector. I was expecting you. Please have a seat. What can I do for you sir?”

“I'm here about the baby bog bodies. You see, Hesterton is a quiet little hamlet. There is little or no crime to speak of here. True, we might have a fight between two drunks on a Saturday night or someone steals a bicycle but never a crime such as a homicide. Truthfully, I need your help sir. I have inquired into your background and credentials and found that you are the noted criminologist and professor at University.”

“Noted you say? The only time I recall being noted is when my wife gives me one to go to the grocery store. Now then, suppose you tell me what you have done so far in your investigation,” said Basham.

“Well, I ordered photographs to be taken of the bodies, the area of the bog where they were discovered. I also took the names of those working the university dig at the bog. Right now I need to know if I should treat Rose Bog as a crime scene or an archeological site,” said the Inspector.

“I recall suggesting to you to allow the dig to go on for a spell. Have you done that?”, asked Alistair.

“ Yes sir.”

“Good and since my wife hasn't called me about finding anything new, then we can assume hopefully of course, that there aren't anymore bog bodies. You do have one of your officers at the bog I hope,” said Basham.

“Yes I do.”

“Excellent. Now then, to answer your question. Report Rose Bog as a crime scene. The reason of course is that at present all indications are that one body is of the twentieth century. However, at the same time include in your report that

you allowed the university archeological team to further dig and examine the bog looking for more bodies and or evidence that would assist you in your investigation. How's that for a solution to that problem?”

“Rather good I'd say,” said Godwin.

“Jolly good. Now, at the same time keep in mind that at present there is only one bog body that is closely linked to the twentieth century. That being the case it is possible that this one body is the result of one definite case of infanticide. At the same time we now have other bog bodies of infants. Right now we need to know if they too are the remains of newborns born in the twentieth century or the results of human sacrifices or epidemic

disease that occurred centuries ago. My wife and the archeology

team from university are waiting for carbon dating results as we speak. Once we have that information we will have a place to begin our, I should say your investigation.

“That's very nice of you sir. Would you mind telling me what you think of this case so far?”, asked Godwin.

“At present there's not too much to tell. The latest bodies found had traces or I should say threads of blue ribbon on their throats. This indicated to me that the ribbon was used to strangle the infants. Nonetheless, one body did not. To me it is possible that particular baby was suffocated,probably with a hand over it's face..”

“Blimey! Who could do such a thing?”, asked the Inspector.

“That's what we will try to find out old boy,” said Alistair.

****************

Three days later at eleven o'clock in the morning Alistiar Basham sat alone at a table in the hotel coffee shop. He sat quietly sipping from a cup of strong brewed tea while reading a newspaper. He placed the cup and paper on the table in order to answer his ringing mobile telephone. “Hello?” he said.

“Darling it's me. We just got the results from the carbon dating. I thought you might like to know what they are,” said Joyce.

“Oh rather,” Basham replied.

“It appears that the examination of the peat that surrounded the bog bodies shows that the cadavers were placed there between nineteen forty and nineteen forty five,” said Joyce.

“Really? Excellent. Now we have a starting point. I must inform Inspector Godwin.”

“Wait dear. I have other news.”

“And?”

“We found two more infant bodies.”

“Oh, no.”

“Yes, I'm afraid so. Alan is truly upset. He is considering closing down the project. These findings and the presence of police and newspaper reporters are causing delays, delays that are effecting the project budget.”

“You must admit that he has a rather good point,” said Basham.

“So now we have seven infant bog bodies. I hope that is the last of them,” said Joyce.

“Have you notified the police?,” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Very well. I'm on my way. Ask Inspector Godwin if he arrives to wait for me.”

“I shall.”

When Alistar arrived at the Rose Bog dig site he noticed Inspector Godwin standing and talking with two uniformed police officers. Godwin turned and when seeing the Criminologist said, “Ah, Doctor Basham. Your wife said that I might expect you.”

“Good afternoon Inspector. I trust that you have observed the new findings.”

“Yes I have. Also photographs have been taken.”

“Would you mind if I took a look at them before you remove them?,” Alistair asked.

“Not at all sir. They are over there under a canvas,” said Godwin.

Basham walked to where a white, canvas tarpaulin lay covering approximately one square yard of green grass. He knelt down and lifted the cover. As e did he began to see the orange-brown remains of what appeared to be the bog bodies of two infants. They appeared as flat objects having no skeletal frame.

He carefully examined the throat area of the bodies. On one he found the remains of a blue ribbon. The other body was found without anything around it's throat. Alistair slowly got up from the kneeling position and once steady on his feet said to Godwin.

“As like before one body is without a throat ribbon and one has a ribbon. Fortunately this ribbon found today is almost intact.

I suggest you send it in as evidence and attempt to find a manufacturer once it is identified.”

“I will of course,” said Godwin.

“While we are at it. The results of carbon dating shows that the infants were placed in this bog between nineteen forty and nineteen forty five. That of course means that you now have a rather old cold case homicide on your hands Inspector,” said Basham.

“Just what I needed. What I need is more information on the carbon dating for my report,” said Godwin.

“In that case I suggest that you speak with my wife. Carbon dating is in her realm, not mine. Joyce Dear, Inspector Godwin needs some information,” said Alistair.

Joyce Basham removed the rubber gloves she had been wearing and slowly walked to where the two men stood. “You have questions Inspector?”, she asked.

“Yes. I need a brief explanation on how carbon dating allowed you to determine when the bodies were placed here in the bog,” said Godwin.

“I see. Well to answer your question a sample of the peat that was found surrounding the infant bodies was sent to our university laboratory. There using carbon dating three major components of peat were examined. These components consist of

humic acid, humins and fulvic acid. Of these humins give the most reliable date.”

“Excuse me, but what is a humin?” the Inspector asked.

“A humin is a class of organic compounds that are insoluble in water in all pH's.” They are insoluble in alkali and are less likely to contain contaminants from the samples environment,” Actually, Radiocarbon dating is a method used to determine the age of an object containing organic material by using the properties of radiocarbon fourteen C, a radioactive isotope of carbon,” Joyce explained.

“If you say so,” said Godwin with a smile.

“I suggest that you request a copy of the university's carbon dating report,” said Basham.”

“I agree,” Godwin replied.

“Especially since we are shutting down this dig,” Joyce added.

“Why?, asked the Inspector.

“Finances. The constant interruptions are cost effective. We are running out of money. The university has to pay salaries, room and board for the student project workers and other things. There is a possibility that we may return next year or two and take up where we leave off,” Joyce explained.

“And that means that you are leaving,” said Godwin to

Alistair.

“ I'm afraid so old boy. However. Here is my card and home telephone number. I'll also give you my mobile number. Call me if you need anything or have questions. At the same time feel free to contact me with any new results,” said Basham.

“I don't know where to continue sir.”

“Start with the small, little things. They often lead one to large pieces of information or evidence. You have the sample of the silk ribbon. Start there.”

“I will sir. Thank you for your help. I appreciate it,” said Godwin.

“Don't mention it. Think positive and you'll be fine,” Alistair answered as he shook the Inspectors hand.

Turning to Joyce he said, “Well my dear it appears our time here is over. I'll meet you back at the hotel. There we'll pack up, check out and start the drive back to Harrow.”

“Not quite love. I'm still part of this project. I will pack and check out but will travel with the university group. That way I get paid for the day you see,” she replied.

“Of course, of course,” he responded.

“And make sure that you pay the hotel bill. I can't expect the university to pay for your stay,” said Joyce.

“What the bloody hell? You ask me to come up here merely to answer a few questions which I did. This trip took me away from my garden chores where in all probability a lack of rain or water has terminated the growth of many of my vegetable plants. Now. I'm supposed to pay for my inconvenience.”

“Yes and there was no inconvenience. I saw the look in your eye and the happy expression on your face as you spoke with Inspector Godwin. You were involved, involved in a mystery, a crime, one you have a deep seated desire to solve. I know you Alistair Basham and there will be no rest in you until this case of the bog babies is concluded to your satisfaction,” Joyce retorted.

One half hour later Basham began the seventy five mile drive back to Harrow. As he drove the Bentley his thoughts went back to the discoveries at Rose Bog. “ Babies, dead babies placed in the bog during the nineteen forties. Those were the war years.

Is it possible that I'm wrong? Did these infants die during the blitz? Were the bodies placed in the bog as a necessity to dispose of the dead killed in the bombings? Were the ribbons used to distinguish the sex of the child, a blue ribbon for males red or pink for females? Yet, no red or pink ribbons have been found. Questions, many questions.”

As Alistair approached the outskirts of Colchester he once again concentrated on the road and his driving. Once again he saw the farm fields, hedges, trees, cows and sheep. “Bloody boring if you ask me,” he thought.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

Blue Ribbon

 

By ten thirty AM on the morning of Wednesday,

July 8, 1959 the fog was almost gone, dissipating as the sun cast it's heat warming the air. Alistair stood by the front room window looking at the sky and hoping against a rainy day.

Turning to Joyce he said, “ If this incessant rain continues the garden will go all to pot. The root vegetables will be nothing but root rot.”

“You act like you're a visitor to England Alistair. Actually it has only rained in the past two days. Personally, I find the weather ideal. It has been seventy two degrees during the day and in the fifties at night. Mind you a bit chilly, but no need to light the furnace. I get by with a blanket while in bed,”

Joyce replied.

“A blanket and the warmth from my body I'd say,” Basham added.

“Not too much heat comes from a bag of bones love,” Joyce retorted.

Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing telephone. Alistair lifted the receiver from the living room extension. “Hello?”, he said.

“Doctor Basham? This is Inspector Alfred Godwin.

How are you sir?”

“Ah, Inspector what a surprise. As to how I am I was just complaining about the weather to my wife. Now, I know you're not interested in my complaints so what can I do for you?”

“ Actually as I recall you told me to call if there was anything new on the bog babies matter,” said Godwin.

“Yes, of course. Do you have news?”

“Yes, with reference to the blue silk ribbon found on the bodies,” the Inspector related.

“Ah. And?”

“That particular ribbon was manufactured at the Osaka Spinning Factory in Japan in 1938. It was then exported to England in the same year. After reviewing a list of British stores and shops that purchased the ribbon for sale I found one store in close proximity to Hesterton. It's called Ashtons located on Lever Street in Manchester.”

“Excellent old chap. I assume you went there,” said Basham.

“Yes. It was my hope that Ashton kept records of sales and in particular who their customers were. They do. However, when I asked for information for the years 1938 to 1939 I was told that those customer journals were destroyed during a bombing of Manchester on December 23-24, 1940.”

“Ah, a pity. Nonetheless you tried.” said Alistair.

“Wait. I'm not finished. I was told that a former employee who worked at the store as the shipping clerk might have information if he can remember who he shipped fabric to in the surrounding area.”

“And have you located him?”

“No sir not yet. I did contact the Manchester Police and asked for their assistance in attempting to locate the man. He is known as Charles Henry Fields,” said Godwin.

“Anything else Inspector?”

“No sir. Not at the moment.”

“I see. Please keep in touch.”

“I will sir. I will.”

“Who was on the telephone dear,” asked Joyce.

“Inspector Godwin. He was updating me on his investigation.”

“I found him to be a nice chap,” Joyce replied.

“Yes, I agree. Unfortunately he is facing a difficult case without any actual experience in investigating homicides. In a way I feel sorry for him,” said Basham.

“ He did ask for your help Alistair.”

“Yes and I intend to give it to him. Just beware that it means maybe many trips back to Hesterton. That means you being alone here,” Basham advised.

“Actually if and when you are there I shall take the opportunity to revisit Rose Bog,” Joyce replied.

“What on earth for may I ask?”

“ I still believe that there are relic remains from at least the iron age. Hopefully one might salvage something from there that might offset the university's expenses occurred while we were there originally.”

“I don't know love. That would mean that you would be out on the bog alone.”

“I'll be fine.”

“You're sure?”

“Positively.”

“Good. Actually I can't get this matter out of my mind. The mere presence of the bog babies is enough to create questions. The evidence of deliberate infanticide raises not only questions but concern,” said Alistair.

“Concern?”, she asked.

“Yes dear. Concern that whoever killed those babies might still be doing it. They have to be stopped and or punished.”

“Punishment is not your forte.”

“True but I must admit there are times when I wish

I could play the part of the executioner. However, I shall do my part and attempt to create a portrait of the killer or killers. After that I'll leave it up to the lads in the police departments to make an arrest. Then, punishment will be handed out by the courts,” Alistair related.

“As it should be. As it should be dear,” Joyce replied.

*************************************

During the last week of July Alistair drove himself and his wife the seventy five miles from Harrow to Hesterton. For the most part the weather was ideal with only occasional brief showers now and then. Arriving in town they checked into the Bridgeport Inn and were welcomed as returning guests.

“Welcome back sir. You would be glad to know that the same room you were in during your last stay is available.

Nothing has changed,” said the desk clerk.

“One thing has changed my good man, the price,” said Basham.

“ You are now being charged summer rates. Your last visit was in the Spring,” replied the clerk.

“It appears then that I'd be better off staying here in the winter,” Alistair retorted.

“Come dear. I want to go to the room and freshen up.

While I do take a look at the menu in the room. You might find something that suits your fancy,” said Joyce.

“If you say so love. Bloody blighter should be arrested as a highwayman taking advantage of guests raising the room rates according to season,” Basham complained as they walked towards the staircase.

“It not that much of an increase,” said Joyce.

“Not much you say. The rate is up a guinea. Not much indeed. I hate to see the menu prices for the pub.”

“I must say Alistair you are becoming a penny pinching disagreeable old man.”

“Why? Because I resent being taken advantage of financially?

When they entered their room Joyce began unpacking

as she did Alistair picked up the hotel restaurant menu and carried it to a seat near the window. “Hummf!” he exclaimed.

“What is it now that bothers you?” she asked.

“ As I recall their sandwiches are up a ten pee from the last time we were here,” Alistair answered.

“Oh my. Can we afford it?”

“That's not the question, The question is why did prices go up in about sixty days?”

“The desk clerk told you. It's summer. Many things happen here in Hesterton. There are foot races, bicycle races,

baby parades and the like,” said Joyce.

“That may be but it is still not a good enough reason to raise the price of a pickle and cheese sandwich ten pee.”

“Well since you noticed the price that must be what you want for lunch.”

“I must admit that I do enjoy that sandwich. Cheddar Cheese is typically British along with a pint of course.”

“Do they have what I like?” Joyce asked.

“They have Coronation Chicken.”

“Excellent. Allow me time to freshen up and we will go to lunch.”

Later, as they sat eating the lunch Alistair took a sip of beer, wiped his mouth with a paper napkin and said, “Now tell me Pet just what do you hope to accomplish alone out there on the bog?”

“I've already told you why I will be working the old site. What I hope to find is artifacts belonging to those who lived here during the Iron Age.”

“Well I would imagine that there won't be anything of interest if you were to ask me.”

“That's what you said in July. Look what we found. It brought you back here again didn't it?”

“You know love you have a way of taking my words and making me wish I didn't say them.”

“Anyway, I shall be on the bog in the morning. While I'm there I assume you will be with Inspector Godwin,” said Joyce.

“Yes but I don't know for how long,” Basham replied.

“Then I guess he will either drive you back to the hotel or you will have a nice walk. I will have the Bentley at the bog,” said Joyce.

***************

The next day at mid-morning Alistair Basham sat beside the desk of Inspector Alfred Godwin. “So, as yet this

Field chap hasn't been located,” said Basham.

“No sir,” Godwin answered.

“You realize of course that he might never be found,” Alistair inferred.

“Yes I do. Nevertheless, I shall keep the search for him active,” Godwin replied.

“Have you come up with any new ideas about this case?”, asked Basham.

“As a matter of fact I have.”

“And just what would that be?”

“ This is strictly conjecture on my part of course but I believe that over the course of a few years some woman here about after becoming pregnant time after time deliberately killed her babies. After doing so carried them to the bog and placed them there,” suggested Godwin.

“Perhaps, perhaps. Of course if such a woman did exist after one or two pregnancies with no live offspring about neighbors, relatives or friends would become suspicious. Naturally they would then ask questions. No, my good man even though your idea has some merit keep in mind that so far the bodies of seven newborns have been found. Someone certainly would have asked where the babies were,” Basham replied.

“I have done some research doctor. As I recall many infanticides are caused by the new mother suffering from postpartum depression. Can we consider that factor?”, asked Godwin.

“Normally yes. In this case no. Once again it comes down to the amount of infant bodies that have been found. Infanticide caused by postpartum depression is usually a one time occurrence. I doubt if it would happen seven times without detection,” Basham answered.

“Then I must admit that I'm at a lost of how and where to proceed.”

“Patience young man. Many a police officer has bungled a case by either acting hastily or losing patience. When that happens mistakes are made, evidence is overlooked and witnesses are ignored,” Basham advised.

“Then do you have any thoughts on the matter?.” asked Godwin,

“Thoughts yes. Anything positive? No. However, when one looks at the facts placed before them what do we have? We have the bodies of seven newborn babies in all probability the result of infanticide. Seven that were supposedly killed and placed in the Rose Bog between the years of 1940 and 1945. One then asks what took place during those years. The answer of course is World War Two. What happen then during those years in and around Hesterton? The answer is American Army Air Force Bases where the Yanks had the availability of silk and rayon stockings, perfume, cigarettes and money to spend. Let's assume that many young girls and women were seduced by such products. Nonetheless, immediately after the war returning British servicemen contributed to a large increase in the birthrate of England. Now, we know that not all pregnancies are

welcomed. The pregnant unwed British girl or woman had three choices. One seek an abortion or two deliver the child then keep it or give it up for adoption.

The Child Destruction Act of 1929 deals with abortion which as you know is illegal. However, it is not illegal to deliver and give the child up for adoption. Since we are dealing with seven infant corpses which appear at the moment to be victims of infanticide I am leaning to the possibility of someone, a doctor or perhaps a midwife who delivered these babies at the time of birth, then killed them. The question is why? Was there a disease? Were these babies born deformed? Right now it is difficult to say. My wife has told me many times that all that exists of the bog babies is skin, skin tanned by the chemicals in the peat moss, said Basham.

“Then what do we do?”, asked Godwin.

“Search for a woman, any woman who might have given birth and gave up the baby in or around Hesterton during the war years.” Alistair answered.

“That's a tall order,” Godwin replied.

“No one ever said it would be easy old boy. At the same time you might get lucky and find the old chap that might remember where he shipped blue ribbon from Ashton's,” said Basham.

After Inspector Godwin drove Basham back to the Bridgeport Inn Alistair made his way to the pub. Taking at seat at the bar he ordered a pint and as he took sips from the glass he struck up a conversation with the bartender. “I say old boy are you from these parts?,” he asked.

“Yes sir. Born and raised right here in Hesterton,” the man answered.

“Ah, excellent, then you should know what old gossip has circulated in he area over the years. You see I'm interested to know if you have heard or have any knowledge say of an abortion ring or adoption agency here in town or on the outskirts so to speak. This would have been during the war years,” Basham explained.

“No sir. I was born after the war and like I say I've lived here all my life. Never heard of either such thing,” the bartender answered.

“I see. Thank you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

Evidence

 

Alistair Basham sat at a table with Inspector Alfred Godwin inside the coffee shop of the Bridgeport Inn. “I have some news of Charlie Field,' said Godwin.

“Ah, I take it that you found him,” Basham replied.

“Actually, no but I do believe is that the bloke is alive.”

“How do you come to this conclusion?”, asked Basham.

“We were able to ascertain his previous address when he worked at Ashton's. The Manchester Police looked for him there but he had moved. It appears he moved six months ago. Unfortunately right now we don't know where. Nonetheless. We do have his National Insurance Number. His account is still active indicating that he is alive. What we need to know now is where are the payments being sent,” Godwin explained.

“Brilliant,” said Alistair after taking a sip of coffee.

“Thank you but I still consider the fact that I could be doing more in this investigation,” Godwin replied.

“May I make a suggestion?,” Alistair asked.

“Certainly sir.”

“Begin questioning those members of the city that are aware of what took place in Hesterton during the last war. In particular inquire about the presence of an obstetrician or a midwife who worked during those years,” Basham advised.

“Is that who you suspect?”, asked Godwin.

“It's either that or the women of the area were killing their children during the war,”Alistair answered.

Later, that evening and at dinner Alister asked, “So how was your day at the bog love?”

“I must say uneventful,” Joyce replied.

“So you found nothing. Is that what you are saying?”

“More or less. I did find the remains of a pair of old eyeglasses, but nothing else. Tomorrow is another day as they say.”

“Eyeglasses you say?”

“Yes, eyeglasses. Why?”

“The answer to why is that they might be important. What did you do with them?,” asked Basham.

“I placed them in the boot of the Bentley with the intention of disposing of them later.”

“Are they still there?”

“Yes, of course.”

Alistair got quickly to his feet tossing his napkin on to the table. “I'll be right back,” he said. Walking outside of the hotel he made his way to where Joyce had parked the silver and black Bentley. He made his way to the rear of the automobile and after reaching into his trouser pocket removed a set of keys to the car. He then opened the boot lid and then looked carefully into the interior. After a few seconds he found the eyeglasses where Joyce had placed them. Picking them up he held them gently in one hand as he visually inspected them. The first thing he noticed was that one lens was missing. The second thing was that the frames were made of silver. Next, he noticed the smell of the bog, faint, but present. He removed a handkerchief from his rear pocket and carefully wrapped the spectacles in it. Then he closed the boot lid to the Bentley and made his way back to the hotel and Joyce.

Basham entered the restaurant walked to his table, sat down and replaced the napkin putting it on his lap. He then took a sip of tea from the cup and made a face. “Bloody thing is cold,” he complained.

“Tell the waiter dear. He'll bring you more hot tea,” said Joyce.

“Try and get his attention. They pay little or no attention to your needs but are quick to present you the bill,” Basham grumbled.

“I'll get his attention. Now, did you find the eyeglasses?”, asked Joyce.

“Yes, and if you can tell me just how deep was the peat where you found them?”, Alistair inquired.

“Not too deep maybe twelve or fifteen inches.”

“I see. And the babies, how deep were they in the peat?”

“They too were in what could be considered a shallow grave. I'd say from two to three feet. Keep in mind dear that it takes thousands of years for the peat to get to five to seven feet deep.”

“I understand, however, if the killer or killers wanted to place bodies in the peat isn't it possible that one could dig a grave of sorts, place the body then cover it?”

“Yes I suppose they could. Why do you ask?”

“A few reasons. First of all no one in their right mind is going to just toss the body of a baby on top of the peat and wait for it to sink and be covered naturally. Therefore one can assume that a grave was dug into the peat and the body placed and then covered. Second, since you mentioned that you found the eyeglasses under, let's say fifteen inches of peat it indicates a hasty burial by someone and that someone buried all of the children. Now, let's return to the broken eyeglasses. Why are they there? Were they accidentally lost and dropped by the wearer or were they thrown into the bog to get rid of them as evidence?”

“I don't know,” said Joyce.

“Neither do I but I want to find these answers,” Basham replied.

“Knowing you and your tenacity I'm sure you will,” Joyce responded.

The next day Alistair Basham met with Inspector Godwin.

“My wife found these in the bog yesterday. Notice that the frames are silver, not some cheap wire imitation. The frames also hold one lens. I'm sure if we continue to dig we will find the other. If not, not to worry an examination of the one lens should give us a prescription. Hopefully in time we might connect the prescription to someone. That someone I assume is a female by the size and style of the frames,” said Basham.

“Interesting, however they could belong to any female and the glasses might have been discarded as useless junk” Godwin replied.

“I agree, nonetheless had the bog been used as a municipal dump my wife and the others from the university would have come across items related to so called junk. They didn't. Therefore one must assume that the glasses were either lost accidentally by someone or deliberately buried in the bog.

The question I have now is what other bodies are contained in the peat?,” said Alistair.

“I must admit that presently I am at a loss,” Godwin replied.

“Do not despair my good man. Eventually all these questions will be answered in time. Now, I've been doing a bit of investigating on my own. Nothing that would infringe on your proper investigation of course, merely the history of Hesterton itself. If I am correct during World War Two the town turned to the manufacturing of munitions, namely artillery shells. At the same time it hired young woman as employees. Now, what took place was the presence of young females in a town with few men who of course were serving in the ranks. At the same time there were American Army Air force Bases near Manchester, with Yank soldiers on passes. Combine the two, the women and the Yanks and I'm sure we can determine that there was more then one pregnancy. Don't you agree?,” asked Basham.

“Under those circumstances, yes,”Godwin answered.

“Excellent. Now then, your questioning of the townsfolk, how is it progressing?,” Basham asked.

“At present, nothing new I'm afraid,” Godwin replied.

“Don't despair. Soon or later someone might have a sudden case of remembering those days of the war. Be patient,” Alistair advised.

*******************

 

Two days later Basham paced the floor of the rented room in the hotel. Turning to his wife who sat brushing her hair he said, “I think that it's about time that we shelve this endeavor and head home. The only thing that we are doing is running up expenses. You are not finding what you are looking for and neither am I. To me this is all just a waste of time.”

“ Not yet dear. Give yourself another day or two, see what happens then decide,” Joyce advised.

“You do realize that I'm dealing not with a season investigator but rather a novice,” Alistair replied.

“What I do know is that each time you get involved in an investigation you think that you must solve it. As a criminologist your job, no make that your position in the case is to provide a portrait profile of the perpetrator not to solve the case and arrest someone. That's the job of the police.”

“A profile you say? Off hand I'm leaning to one or two females who are the killer of the babies,” said Basham.

“And just what brings you to this opinion dear?”, joyce asked.

“ A man, such as an obstetrician bent on committing infanticide could do it at the exact time of birth. There are many ways he could do it. For instance do not create the first breath by not clearing the baby's lungs. If using forceps, deliberately crush the skull. No, there's more here. From what I have determined the infants were alive approximately twenty four to forty eight hours before they were murdered. The question is why? There has to be a reason,” said Basham.

“Be that as it may I am not ready to leave. I have an inclination that I'm about to make a discovery that will allow the university to face it's alumni contributors and if not show a profit financially as well as academically at least ended the dig on an even basis,” said Joyce.

“Well, I wish I could be as optimistic as you dear, but I'm afraid that I'm involved in a cold case homicide that occurred nearly fifteen years ago. I might even be chasing ghosts. The killer or killer might be dead by now. After all there was the war, the blitz, one German bomb might have killed the one responsible not to mention destroying evidence,” said Alistair.

“I chase ghosts each and every time I work a dig. Ghosts of the past, animals, ancient people, primeval civilizations, when I'm stumped with a question I investigate by going back and reviewing what I already know. Some times I find he answer.

Some times I don't but at least I tried,” said Joyce.

******************

Two days later Inspector Godwin contacted Alistair Basham. As they sat in Godwin's office Basham said, “I jolly well hope that you have some good news, something concrete old boy.”

“ What I have is the memory of an old police officer who I contacted. His name is Reginald Drayson. Officer Drayson served during the war as a uniformed officer here in Hesterton.

As you already know the town had a munitions factory and many young women workers. Well, it seems that one of the girls turned up missing. A report was made as was an investigation which led no where. The case was never closed, “ said Godwin.

“Does the Drayson chap remember the name of the girl?”,asked Basham.

“Yes, she was known as Edna Bule.”

“What else do you know now that you have viewed the file on the missing girl?”, asked Basham.

“Not too much really. Her address in Manchester was

nine seventeen Oldharn Road. Here in Hesterton she resided in a boarding house on Saint George Street. According to Drayton

a girl living at the boarding house, one Betty Filmore, said that she saw Edna Bule who was pregnant leave with a small suitcase. This was on October 16. 1944.”

“I'm sure that the report contains a description of the girl,”Basham mentioned.

“Yes of course. She is described as being a brunette standing at one hundred sixty four and a half cm. (5'5”) and weighing ten stone ( one hundred twenty eight pounds) She also wore eyeglasses,” Godwin reported.

“Eye glasses you say?,” asked Basham.

“Yes sir.”

“I suggest that you contact the Manchester City Police and ask them, to check that Oldharn Road address for any next of kin residing there. If so, then we will go there and speak to whoever can give us further information,” Basham advised.

“I will sir. Is there anything else?”, asked the Inspector.

“Yes, when you're done speaking with the Manchester City Police I suggest that we will ride out to Rose Bog. I want to talk with my wife. I have a feeling that we just might find Edna Bule.”

Thirty minutes later Inspector Godwin parked the unmarked Hesterton Police Car behind Basham's Bentley.

Both men got out of the vehicle and as they did Joyce Basham stood and removed the rubber gloves she was wearing as she dug in the wet peat moss. “What brings you out here?,” she asked, calling to her husband.

Alistair waited until he was close enogh to speak in a normal tone of voice then said, “You will recall the eyeglasses you found the other day?”

“Yes of course,” she replied.

“Well, I have reason to believe that they belonged to a young woman reported missing back in 1944. I can't say for sure but I have a feeling that her remains might just be here in the bog. I wanted you t be aware of the fact. Naturally, should you uncover anything remotely associated with a dead body and in particularly the body of a woman call me on the mobile,” said Alistair.

“I shall, however I doubt very much that your killer or killers placed the dead body of her in the bog,” said Joyce.

“Why not?”, asked Godwin.

“The babies were buried under twelve to fifteen inches of peat, some under twenty four to thirty six inches .I don't imagine whoever placed them there did it in broad daylight. So, let's assume that they worked in the dark, unseen, unobserved. With the babies it would take one or two turns of a shovel and the work is finished. Not so with the body of an adult.

It would take a lot of effort to dig down deep enough to create a wet grave, particularly when trying to avoid detection,” Joyce explained.

“Godwin smiled. “That makes sense. You speak like a detective,” he replied.

“I am a detective of sorts. The difference is I look for traces of evidence from life that existed many years go,”Joyce responded.

“Nonetheless love, keep a sharp lookout,” said Alistair.

“I shall,” Joyce answered.

As both men walked back to the car Godwin asked, “What now?”

“Now we wait to see how productive the Manchester City Police are in finding relatives of Edna Bule,” Basham answered.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

Manchester City

 

Alistair Basham sat reading the morning newspaper at a corner table in the hotel restaurant. Before turning the pages of the paper he would lift his cup and take sips of hot coffee. This morning his main interest was how his stock investments were doing and as he was about to turn to the financial page he had to stop and answer his mobile telephone. “Oh, bloody hell,” he said aloud. “Hello”, he said as he answered the call.

“Doctor, Inspector Godwin here. I hope that I'm not disturbing you but I have some news.”

“If it's good news then it's no problem. It is good news isn't it?”

“ The Manchester City Police have located a relative of

Edna Bule,” said Godwin.

“Oh, good show.”

“I'm leaving for Manchester in a few minutes. Would you like to go along?”

“Oh, rather,” Basham answered.

“Fine, I'll be by the hotel in approximaley five minutes.”

“Excellent my boy. I shall be outside waiting,”Alistair replied. After he ended the call with Godwin Basham called his wife who was working at the bog. Joyce answered by saying, “Yes, what is it?”

“Just want you to know that I'm off to Manchester. Seems the Inspector has a lead in this bazaar matter. We shan't be long. I should be back in plenty of time for supper,” said Alistair.

“Fine, go, enjoy yourself,” Joyce replied. Then she pushed the off button on her mobile.

Approximately an hour later Inspector Godwin parked the unmarked, Hesterton Police vehicle at the main headquarters of the Manchester City Police. Both men got out of the automobile and Alistair followed Godwin into the building.

Once inside Godwin identified himself and requested to see Inspector Harry Cummings. While they waited Basham amused

himself by looking at the many glass enclosed photographs taken over the years of members of the police force. Alistair turned when he heard a voice say, “ Ah, Inspector Godwin. Nice to finally meet the bloke I've been chatting up on the telephone. How was your drive up?, asked Cummings as the two men shook hands.

“Ideal, allow me to introduce you to Doctor Alistair Basham. He has been advising me on several factors of this case,'

said Godwin.

“Doctor Basham. Are you the Doctor Basham that helped solve the Emily Watson case back in London during the war?,” asked Cummings.

“Since you used the word helped then I must admit that I am one and the same. However, it was the chaps in the police ranks that actually solved the case. As a criminologist I only provide a profile of the subject involved in a crime,” Basham explained.

“I fear that the professor is being to modest. Now then,

you told me over the telephone that you have located a relative of

Edna Bule,” said Godwin.

“Yes I have. It's her paternal grandmother, Agatha Bule.

Fortunately for me she resides at the same address at nine seventeen Oldharn Road so she wasn't hard to locate,” said

Cummings.

“Jolly good but will she talk with us?”, asked Basham.

“I'm certain that she will. When I met her I explained that Inspector Godwin was still investigating the missing person case of her granddaughter. At that time she seemed to be both surprised and glad,” Cummings replied.

“Excellent. We are ready when you are,” said Godwin.

“I'll be just a minute. I have to sign out for the motor car and get the keys,” Cummings replied.

Twenty five minutes later the three men sat in the living room belonging to Agatha Bule. Basham took a long hard look at the woman. What he saw was a small, frail woman he judged to be near or nearing eighty years of age. She sat in an English Oak rocking chair with a gray, wool shawl around her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes were watery and her white hair needed combing.

“Thank you for meeting with us Mrs. Bule,” said Cummings.

“You say you have news of my granddaughter. What is it and if it's bad news be out with it,” the woman replied.

“Right now we have no bad news to report to you. What we do need is answers to several questions,” Godwin said.

“Question? Then ask them.” said Agatha.

“First, could you tell us what you know about your granddaughter?”, asked Godwin.

“Certainly. Edna was a good girl that is until she met up with some Yank in Hesterton,” said the woman.

“Do you happen to know the Yanks name?”, asked Godwin.

“All I know is that she said his name was Jim,” said Agatha.

“I see. You said the Edna was a good girl until she met the Yank. What do you mean? ” asked Godwin.

“I mean she got in trouble. Pregnant she was and her being only eighteen at the time.”

“Did she tell you she was pregnant or did you merely suspect that she was?”, asked Godwin.

“She told me. Told me with tears in her eyes she did. Asked me what she should do,” Agatha related.

“What did you tell her? ” asked Basham.

“I gave her two choices. One has an abortion or two

have the baby and give it up for adoption,” said the woman.

“Why not keep the child?”, asked Godwin

“It was during the war. Things were hard. Her mother was killed in the bombings. Her father, my son had disowned her and during those years a woman being pregnant out of wed lock was looked upon as a lost woman. She would have been seen as a whore and her child a bastard. No, better to rid herself of the baby one way or the other I say.”

“I'm curious as to what she did, Mrs. Bule,” said Alistair.

“ The last time I saw her she was as big as a house. I must assume that she either gave birth and kept the child or gave it up for adoption. Some believe that she married the Yank and he sent her to America. I doubt that very much,” said Agatha.

“I must ask you Mrs. Bule, your son, is he a violent man?”, asked Basham.

“ Ebert? No. He's a pussy cat. He did get angry when Edna asked for three hundred pounds,” said Agatha Bule.

“Did Edna say why she wanted the money?”, asked Godwin.

“No but my way of thinking is that it had something to do with her pregnancy,” the woman replied.

“One more thing Mrs. Bule. The remains of a pair of eyeglasses were found recently in Hesterton. I wonder if you would mind taking a look at them,” said Godwin.

“ Let me see them,” Agatha replied.

Inspector Godwin removed the silver frame containing one lens from a paper bag and handed it to the woman.

“Oh my! Oh My! I swear they belonged to Edna,” said Agatha.

“Can you be certain?”,asked Godwin.

“Yes. I can tell by the frames. I was with her at the

optometrist shop when she had her examination. I chose those frames for her myself.”

“And the name of the optometrist?” asked Godwin.

“Boyle and Perkins on Oxford Road, Mrs, Bule replied.

“Well thank you Mrs. Bule you have been very helpful,” said Godwin.

“She's dead isn't she?”, asked Agatha.

“Now, we don't know that. We're still investigating. We still might find her,” Godwin answered.

“No. She would have contacted us by now even if she was in America. She's dead. I've always had the notion that someone killed her.”

Twenty minutes later the three men entered the optometrist shop of Boyle and Perkins. “Yes sir gentlemen may I be of service?” a man attired in a Grey smock asked.

“You may indeed. I'm Inspector Cummings of the Manchester City Police. I would like to know if you still have the examination and prescription records of a Miss Edna Bule. Her address was nine seventeen Oldhard Road,” said Cummings.

“Can you give me an approximate date sir?”, asked the man.

“During the war, say nineteen forty-two to nineteen forty-four or five,” said the Inspector.

“ Those records are in the storage closet. It will take a bit of time to find and read them sir.”

“We'll wait.”

“Very good sir.”

Cummings turned to Godwin and Basham and said,

“While the bloke is looking I'll just step outside and have a fag.

I won't be long. Either one of you gents care to join me?”

“No, I don't smoke,” said Godwin.

“And I use a pipe occasionally but not in public,” Basham related.

Twenty-five minutes later the clerk returned and said,

“ We examined Edna Bule on a Wednesday, March 26, 1941. as a result of the examination, she did decide to purchase eyeglasses.

We then prepared them for her and she received them on Friday,

March 28, 1941.”

Inspector Cummings then handed the silver frame with one lens to the clerk. “Is it possible for you to inspect this one lens and tell if it is made from the same prescription that your company recommended?,” he asked.

“I'll examine it for you and see what I can find. This lens is for the left eye. Miss Bule had a astigmatism. She was nearsighted in that eye. Again, I will need some time to examine the lens,” said the clerk.

“Take as much time as you need, “ said Cummings.

Sometime later, the clerk returned. “Sorry it took so long but I wanted to be certain. From what I have observed this lens for the left eye was made from the exact prescription given to Miss Bule,” he said.

“Then you are saying that this damaged, eye glasses belonged to Edna Bule,” said Cummings.

“What I am saying sir is that the prescription of the left lens is identical to the prescription made for Miss Bule. At the same time allow me to advise you that many people are nearsighted. However, although it is possible that one or more young women might have the need for the same prescription the odds are maybe one in several thousand that it would be exact,” said the clerk.

“I see and what about the frames?”, asked Cummings.

“Although they appear to be silver they are Nickle Silver. We purchased them from a German company operating in both Shenzhan and Hong Kong China before the war. They are attractive but inexpensive,” said the clerk.

“I see and if you don't mind sir, I need your name for my report,” said Cummings.

“Basset, Peter Basset.”

“Thank you Mr. Basset. You have been very helpful,” said Cummings.

On the drive back to Hesterton both men rode a while in silence. Inspector Godwin finally said, “I welcome you ideas and opinion right now Doctor Basham.”

Basham looked at the man and said, “ An opinion you say? My opinion is that Edna Bule is or was a victim of homicide and that she was murdered by the same person or persons that killed the babies.”

“I agree but why,” said Godwin.

“I wager it had something to do with her pregnancy,”

Basham related.

“ Then it's possible that her remains are in Rose Bog” said the Inspector.

“I sincerely doubt it. My wife has exhumed the remains of dinosaurs, ancient and early man as well as semi-modern relics. She knows what she is speaking about. If she says that the body of a young woman would likely as not be placed in the bog then I accept her opinion. Nonetheless, the finding of the eyeglasses places you one step closer to solving these cases,” Basham explained.

“Then where do we go from here?”, asked Godwin.

“You continue interviewing those who lived here during the war years while I examine recorded information, providing I can find any records,” Basham replied.

Later back at the Bridgeport Inn Alistair sat reading

“The Times”. He checked the sports page looking for news of the football clubs He heard footsteps in the hallway and as they approached his hotel room door he lowered the newspaper and waited for Joyce to enter. When she did he smiled and said,

“Hello love, find anything new or exciting today?”

“No but that doesn't mean I won't. What about your day? How did you fare in Manchester?,” Joyce asked.

“Rather well I'd say. We were able to confirm that the eyeglasses you found do belong to Edna Bule. At the same time it was revealed that the young woman was indeed pregnant apparently made that way by some Yank soldier.”

“Do you think that she is alive somewhere?” asked Joyce

“No dear. Even her grandmother considers her dead, murdered.”

“What will you do next Alistair?”

“Do? Continue to investigate of course. The answer is right here in Hesterton. Either someone knows what happened here in this hamlet or it is recorded somewhere or somehow. Either way I feel that I am getting close to being able to create a portrait profile for Inspector Godwin.”

“That's nice dear. Now finish reading your paper. I will have a hot bath and then we may go to supper.

The evening at supper as the waiter poured water into glass goblets Alistair asked, “I say my good man. Could you tell me the street address for the local library?”

“Yes sir. It's located in Victoria Square. Do you require directions?,” asked the man.

“No, I shall find it.”

“ Very good sir. Are you ready to order?”

“Not quite. However you could bring me a sherry while we inspect the menu,” said Basham.

“Any particular brand sir?”

“No, just as long as it's Bristol's,” said Alistair with a smile.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

Sybil Morgan

 

At ten AM a light misty rain fell from a gray slate colored sky as Alistair Basham walked under an open umbrella. As he neared the public library the rain began to increase it's intensity.

He walked quickly to the main door stood for a moment as he closed the bumper shoot then shook off the accumulated water before opening the door and entering.

“Good morning sir,” said a matronly woman Alistair assumed was the librarian.

“Yes it is, except for the rain of course he answered.

“May I be of service sir or do you know what you want?,” she asked.

“Yes, you may. I required newspaper articles from the last war. Say 1943-45 if that's possible,” said Basham.

“We do have some on microfilm. How many I can't say. It has been sometime since anyone asked to see them. If you wait I'll see what we have and if we do have those years I'll load them in the Microfiche for you.”

“That would be splendid. Is there a place were I might place my umbrella?” he asked.

“Behind you sir, near the front door there is an umbrella stand,” the woman instructed.

“Ah yes, thank you,” Alistair replied.

While he waited for the woman to find what he needed he stood looking seeing the yellow pine tables with matching chairs arranged in a neat row. A large black and white sign hanged on a wall reading, “Silence Please.” Then he saw the rows of tightly packed books neatly placed on metal shelves. His attention was interrupted by the librarian. “Yes sir, we do have microfilm of the years you are interested in. If you follow me I'll install the first of the lot in the Micro fish for you.” she said.

“Smashing!”, he replied as he followed the woman.

After she placed the microfilm in the machine Basham took a seat and began reading. He started with the month of January 1943 and read, “ January 11, 1943 the United States and the United Kingdom gave up territorial rights in China.”

“January 23, 1943 British forces capture Tripoli from the Italians.” “January 29, 1943 Nazi German Police arrest alleged

necrophiliac and serial killer Bruno Ludke.” “ Interesting but not what I'm looking for,” he thought. By early afternoon Basham had reviewed all of the microfilmed news articles from January to July 1943. His eyes ached and there was a mild pain in his shoulders created by the position he had sat in doing his research. At the same time he was hungry having missed his eleven o'clock tea time.

He stood and walked over to where the librarian sat at her desk. “I shall go to lunch now but will return. I still have four more months to examine in the year 1943. Is it permissible to leave the files in the machine until I return?” he asked.

“Ordinarily no. However, I doubt if anyone else is going to enter and request the use of the Microfiche. Did you shut it off?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent then it will be ready when you return,” she replied.

After walking back to the Bridgeport Inn Alistair went to his room placed the now dry umbrella in the closet and entering the bathroom washed his face and hands. As he did he heard the

room door open and close. He called out, “Is that you love?”

“Yes, I just came from lunch. Now that the rain is gone and the sun is out I shall go to the bog and work. I came back to the room to change,” said Joyce.

“A pity that I missed you for lunch. I came back from the library to dine. I must admit that I am hungry. I owe it to the fact that I missed my eleven o'clock tea”, he reasoned.

“Very possible. And did you have any luck in this venture of yours?”, she asked.

“Not as yet.”

“I'm sure that you will find something,” she said assuringly.

“Well, I'm off to the pub. Today I fancy a meat pie with a cup of tea. After that it's back to the library,” said Basham.

“I shall be back from the dig by five,” said Joyce.

“ Do be careful out there love,” Alistair replied.

“I shall.”

Basham went to the pub ordered his lunch then sat relaxed at his table sipping occasionally from a cup of tea. As he did his mind began to work. “I am certain that there is something or someone out there who or what can lead us to an item of information that will open this case. I must keep digging, although I must admit this search is difficult. Still, other cold cases have been solved after many years have passed. Perhaps, perhaps.,”

he thought.

Returning to the library Alistair said hello again to the librarian then seeing that no one was seated at the Microfiche he walked to it, removed his hounds tooth tweed sports coat and placed it on the back of the chair. Then he sat down turned on the instrument and began his search again. He began his new search in the month of September 1943. for the next two hours Basham read article after article related to world War Two and the British forces. By the time he reached the month of October 1943 he was becoming despaired believing that he would never find even a hint towards any signs of information that would lead him further into his investigation. The investigation which would allow him to create a portrait profile of the killer or killers of the babies found in the bog.

As he read the events listed in the newspaper articles he noticed one particular piece that perked his attention. The article read, “Woman Seeks Information On Baby She Placed For Adoption.” Basham began to read: The Times reports that a young London mother has through her solicitor petitioned His Majesty's Court seeking information on the where about of her new born baby son. Sybil Morgan stated that she gave birth to a son on April 14,1943. She further relates that after the birth she agreed to place the baby boy up for adoption.

Three days after leaving the birth facility the new mother changed her mind and decided to keep the child. Upon returning to a place she called Ainsworth House located in Hesterton she was told that her baby had already been adopted. Hoping to find the adoptive parents she asked for their names and address but was told that she had no right to that information. She then sought council from a solicitor and is represented by Sidney Bagly of London.

Alistair turned in his chair and reached into the inside pocket of his sport coat and took out a pen and small tablet. Then he copied word for word the article printed in the London Times on October 25, 1943. When he was finished writing he reached up and turned off the Microfiche. Then he stood put on his tweed jacket and walked to where the Librarian sat. “Thank you Miss. I am finished.”

“I hope you found what you were looking for,” said the woman.

“So do I. So do I.” Basham replied.

Returning to the hotel Basham called Inspector Godwin.

“Inspector Godwin,” said the detective when he answered the telephone.

“Alistair Basham here. I believe I have found something of interest my good man. If you are not too busy I suggest that you come by and we can talk over a pint or cup of tea, your choice,” said Basham.

“I'll be there shortly,” Godwin replied.

“Jolly good. I'll be in the pub,” said Alistair.

When Godwin walked into the Bridgeport Inn Pub he found Alistir Basham seated at a table in the back corner of the room.

In front of him was a glass of dark stout. “Hello Doctor,” said Godwin.

“Have a seat. What would you like, a beer, tea, coffee?.” Basham asked.

“Nothing, thank you,” said Godwin.

“You should really try this Guinness stout. It's excellent,” Basham advised.

“Sorry, some other time. Right now I'm on duty.”

“Of course, of course. How stupid of me. Now then, what can you tell me abut a place here in Hesterton called the Ainsworth House?”

“Nothing. I've never heard of it,” said Godwin.

“Strange. Very strange. You see it seems that back in 1943 a young woman named Sybil Morgan stated that she gave birth to a baby boy at a place called Ainsworth House in Hesterton.”

“Really?” asked the Inspector.

“Yes and there's more. It seems Sybil Morgan also gave her son up for adoption. Then, she changed her mind. Upon returning to this place, Ainsworth House she was told that her baby had already been adopted. She was also refused any information as to who adopted her child or where he was. She then petitioned the court. The case caught the attention of the times and an article was written and published.”Alistair reported.

“And then what happened?” asked the Inspector.

“I don't know. Hopefully, you as the lead investigator in the case of the bog bodies might be able to find and locate Sybil Morgan. I suggest that you contact the London Times and hopefully speak to one Grace Manning. She was the reporter who wrote the story.

“Doctor she wrote the article in 1943. She might be dead by now,” said Godwin.

“Or alive. Think positive my boy. Think positive.”

Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of Alistair's mobile. “Hello?”, he said when he answered.

“Alistair I want you to contact Inspector Godwin and when you do come with him out here to the bog,” said Joyce.

“Don't tell me you found another body,” said Basham.

“No, but something of interest. Something important.”

“Very well. The Inspector is here with me at the pub. I'll tell him and we'll be on our way.”

“Good. Hurry.”

Twenty minutes later Godwin stopped the unmarked police car on the road adjacent to the bog. When both men got out of the vehicle the walked to where Joyce Basham stood.

“What is so important love,” asked Alistair as he approached her.

“What is important is what I found and if you look down beside my left foot you will see what it is,” said Joyce.

Inspector Godwin looked down and said, “Blimey!”

Basham said, “By Jove. Excellent my girl. Excellent. Inspector, I suggest that you call into headquarters and request a photographer. After that then you will want to preserve this piece of evidence.”

“Is that what I think it is?” asked Godwin.

“It is if you think it is an abandoned delivery forceps or what remains of them then, of course, you re right,” said Basham.

“What now?”, asked Godwin.

“Now we identify the make and year the item was manufactured if possible,” said Basham.

“Then what?”

“Then you call me at home in Harrow. I can tell by the look on my wife's face that she has had enough of Rose Moss Bog. At the same time I can tell you that I've had enough of the Bridgeport Inn. So, old chap I'll be at home tending to my roses. When you have something concrete don't hesitate to call me. One more thing. I suggest that you attempt to locate Sybil Morgan and please find someone in this town of yours that has heard of or knows about a place called, Ainsworth House.”

*********************

On a warm September mid-morning Alistair Basham

wearing heavy gloves carefully pruned his rose bushes. The

“Moody Blue” still had buds so he left the bush alone. Nonetheless, when he came to the “Amber Sweet Dreams” and

“The Beauty Star” he went to work with the pruners. He was about to rake all of the cuttings into a pile when Joyce came to the back door and called to him. “Alistair! Telephone. It's that Police Inspector bloke, Alfred Godwin,” she called in a loud voice.

“Ah, jolly good. Perhaps he has some news,” said Basham as he walked towards the backdoor.

Entering the house he lifted the receiver off of the wall telephone. “Ah. Inspector nice to hear from you. I hope you have news and information,” said Alistair.

“It could be both but at this time maybe a bit premature to begin celebrating,” Godwin offered.

“Let me hear it old boy.”

“First the sad news. Sybil Morgan was killed by a V-2 explosion in London during the war.”

“Damn the luck,” said Basham.

“However, I was able to make contact with Sidney Bagley.

He still has his law practice and is located in Westminster, London. His office is near the Double Tree Hotel. He has agreed to meet with me and will tell what he knows about Sybil Morgan and her case.”

“Excellent.”

“I also told him about you and your efforts in the case.”

“And what was his reaction?” asked Alistair.

“Rather good I'd say. He offered no objections,” Godwin added.

“Good, when is the meeting?”, asked Basham.

“Tomorrow, at eleven AM. I will leave for London today. Could you recommend a good inexpensive hotel?”

“Hotel? Nonsense. You will stay with us here in Harrow.

Write down the directions I'm about to give you.”

***************

The next morning, after breakfast Basham sat at the kitchen table with Joyce and Alfred Godwin. “I assume that both of you will be using the police vehicle to go into Westminster. As it is I need the Bentley to go to market,” said Joyce.

“No problem Mrs. Bentley. I intended to use the motor car assigned to me,” Godwin replied.

“Oh jolly good. By the way, those forceps I found. What have you learned about them?”, she asked.

“They appear to be Simpson Forceps, the short form. I've been told they are used to turn the baby's head if it becomes necessary during birth,” Godwin answered.

“Once again that discovery only adds to my belief that abortion and or adoption is key to creating a portrait profile,” said Basham.

“We should learn more after our meeting today,” Godwin added.

“Well, I suggest that the two of you get up from the table and get ready to leave. I will do up the breakfast dishes and then dress to go to market,” said Joyce.

An hour later Inspector Godwin and Alistair Basham stood one after the other shaking hands with Sidney Bagley. “Gentlemen, please have a seat,” said Bagley.

“I'd like to thank you for seeing me,” sad Godwin.

“No need to thank me, Inspector. You have questions. I hope that I can provide the answers,” said the solicitor.

“I am aware that Sybil Morgan was your client and that through you she had petitioned the courts for information on her son who she had put up for adoption at a place called Ainsworth House in Hesterton,” said Godwin.

“That's correct,” said Bagley.

“I can also tell you that no such establishment exists and no

evidence appears that it ever existed in Hesterton,” said the Inspector.

“Perhaps we can go back and listen to what you can tell us about Sybil Morgan,” said Basham.

“Sybil Morgan was a young woman who at one time was an unwed mother. Faced with an unwanted pregnancy she answered an ad that appeared in the classified section of the local newspapers. In fact, here is a copy of that ad as that it appeared in 1943,” said the lawyer handing it to Godwin. Godwin then read: Let us prepare and empower teens and other young expectant mothers and their families to be productive members of the community. Contact Ainsworth House, Hesterton,

Bolton County, Greater Manchester, General Delivery.

Godwin then passed the article to Basham who read it. He then said, “Very smart. No telephone exchange and whoever it was picked up the correspondence at the local post exchange,” said Basham as he handed it back to Godwin.

“Please continue sir,” said Basham.

“Well, Sybil made contact and was given two options.

First, for five hundred pounds she could deliver her baby, recuperate at the house and then leave taking the newborn with her. Second, for three hundred pounds she could deliver the baby and immediately place the newborn up for adoption. At the time Miss Morgan decided to pay three hundred pounds and place her baby up for adoption. As she neared her term of delivery she took a bus to Hesterton and was met by a woman named, Elizabeth Garrick who then took her to what was a stately home called Ainsworth House. According to Sybil, the house was a large, older building of quality on the outskirts of Hesterton. Upon her arrival, she was then introduced to Margaret Ainsworth who stated that she was a midwife with many years experience. Miss Morgan was assured that the birth of her baby would be done with discretion and that no one would know about it allowing her to protect her reputation. At the same time, her baby would be adopted by wealthy parents and raised in a healthy atmosphere. The cost for the birth, care and adoption would be three hundred pounds,” Bagley reported.

“Great heavens!” Basham exclaimed.

“Something wrong?” asked the solicitor.

“We have another young woman who has been missing for years who also mentioned needing three hundred pounds for what we think would have been the same situation as Sybil Morgan,” said Alistair.

“Interesting. However, Sybil Morgan was killed on the night of November 22, 1944, when a V-2 rocket bomb struck Orchard Rise East. Thirty homes were destroyed. One was hers with her in it,” said Bagley.

“A pity. Nonetheless, did you as her solicitor meet with

Margaret Ainsworth ?,” asked Inspector Godwin.

“No I didn't,” Bagley answered.

“Did you ever travel to Hesterton? ” asked Basham.

“No. Remember this was during the war. There were many priorities then,” Bagley responded.

“So I take it then that you can not tell us just where this place called, Ainsworth House was located,” said Godwin.

“No. I'm afraid not,” Bagley replied.

“No matter. We'll find it,” said Basham as he got up out of his chair.

“Thank you for your time and assistance,” said the Inspector. After shaking hands with the lawyer both men left the office.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

Charles Fields

 

A thick, wet, fog covered Hitman Road when Alistair

opened the front door of his home and then bent over to pick up his morning newspaper. After closing the door he unfolded the paper and glanced at the headline. It read: SOUTHEND PIER

FIRE TRAPS HUNDREDS! Three hundred people have been rescued after being cut off by a blaze on the world's longest pleasure pier on England's

southeast coast.

“Blimey”, he said aloud.

“What's bothering you now?”, asked Joyce from the kitchen.

“There was a fire yesterday on Southend Pier,” he answered.

“Yes, I know it was on the telly last evening,” said Joyce

“Well, if it was I didn't see it.”

“That's because as usual you were seated at your desk

going over heaven knows what when the news was being broadcast. You were still there when I went up to bed.”

“That reminds me. I must call Inspector Godwin,” said Alistair.

“Well, do it after breakfast your eggs and bangers are getting cold,” Joyce responded.

Basham waited until ten AM the called the Hesterton Police. Once they were online he asked for Inspector Godwin.

“This is Inspector Godwin.”

“Alfred? Alistair Basham here. How are you?”

“Fine sir, just fine.

“Excellent. I have a bit of information for you,” said Basham.

“And?”

“Have you ever heard of the 1902 Midwives Act?”

“No, I haven't.”

“The act was created to assure that all midwives were trained and supervised. It appears that to be qualified a woman desiring to be a midwife had to pass a written examination. Apparently, this kept the uneducated from qualifying. Anyway, I was able to find one Margaret Ainsworth as a certified midwife working as an independent in Derbyshire, in Darby in 1929. The best that I can gather is that at that time she averaged seventy pounds a year. Other midwives in that area were making between twenty and fifty pounds a year. Evidently, Margaret was midwife to the affluent. In any case, she appears again in Manchester in nineteen thirty-eight. After that I lost her,” said Basham.

“Can we be sure that it is the same Margaret Ainsworth that Sidney Bagley mentioned? ” asked Godwin.

“Well, think about it. In Derbyshire, she made more than the average midwife in that area. In Hesterton her fees were between three hundred and five hundred pounds. Why so high?

Two reasons. Some young women from wealthy families found themselves in trouble. Many a father and mother would gladly pay the going rate to rid itself of the problem pregnancy. The less affluent? Well, that's another story.”

“Did you find anything on Elizabeth Garrick? ”asked Godwin.

“Not yet. Speaking of finding, what about Charles Fields?”

“ I was just about to give you a bell when you called. Yes, finally Manchester City Police located him in a nursing home. It seems he's in a wheelchair but supposedly his mind is gone It appears that he's suffering from senility ” said Godwin.

“Damn the luck. Is he lucid at times? said, Basham.

“Yes but he's in an out remembering one time, forgetting other times,” Godwin replied.

“Very well. I suggest that we go see him. You see, it might be just a chance that we catch him at the right time. If nothing else, we tried,” said Basham.

“I agree,” Godwin replied.

“Then I shall motor up to Hesterton in the morning. You make arrangements whatever necessary for our visit to the nursing home. I should be arriving at approximately ten AM.”

“Brilliant. I'll see you then,” said Godwin.

As Alistair was finished speaking on the telephone Joyce appeared from the kitchen. “Did I just hear you say that you were motoring up to Hesterton?.” she asked.

“Yes. I'll leave in the morning around eight.”

“And what time do you expect to be home, may I ask?”

“I should be back by five. Maybe earlier.”

“See that you do. Don't expect me to cook and prepare a dinner for two and sit down and eat all alone,” said Joyce.

 

At ten-fifteen AM the next day Alistair parked his Bentley in the Hesterton Police parking lot. After securing the vehicle he made his way across the lot and entered the headquarters building. Once inside he was met by the Desk Sergeant. “Doctor

Basham to see Inspector Godwin,” said Alistair.

“Right here! ” Godwin announced. “I saw you when you drove into the parking lot. If you are ready we can be off to Manchester,” Godwin continued.

“ Then let's be on our way, by all means,” Basham replied.

During the drive to Manchester, the two men discussed the case of the bog bodies murders as they did Godwin asked, “Are you any closer in creating a portrait profile of whoever killed the babies?”

“Closer, yes but I'm not absolutely certain of the identities of the killers. I can tell you this, there is more than one,” Alistair answered.

Well perhaps Mr. Fields can be of assistance,” Godwin added.

After they parked the police car both men waked up onto the porch of the Oak View Nursing Home. Godwin opened the front door and walked inside. Basham followed him. The two men then met with the Senior Sister who was sitting at the reception desk.

“Good morning Sister. I am Inspector Godwin of the Hesterton Police. May I introduce Doctor Alistair Basham.

We would like to see and talk with one of your, shall I say patient

or tenet?”

“Either one is correct. Now then, which person are you referring to may I ask? ” said the nurse.

“A Mr. Charles Fields.”

“Allow me to advise you that Mr. Fields is suffering from dementia. There are times when he is as sharp as a tack. Other times he has no memory. Now, then after you show me your credentials and I confirm who you say you are I'll take you both to his room, By the way, my name is Bertha Hicks.”

Alfred Godwin reached into the inside pocket and removed the small leather wallet like case, that held his identification card. He opened it and showed to the woman.

“Very well. Now doctor let's start with the location of your surgery,” she instructed.

“I'm afraid you overestimated me. I am not a doctor of medicine. I am however the holder of a Ph.D. I am also a professor at Harrow University,” said Basham.

“I see. Alright, gentlemen if you would follow me I'll take you to Mr. Fields. I hope that your meeting will be quick as lunch will be served very soon.”

Both men walked slowly behind Bertha Hicks as she led them down a long hallway. Basham listened to the sounds of the woman's heavily starched white uniform as the fabric of her skirt rubbed against the apron she wore. Finally,she stopped and gestured for the two men to enter a room.

When they entered the room Charles Fields looked up and said, “Ello? Ello? What's this?' he asked.

“Charles, these two men have come to visit. They would like to talk with you,” said Bertha.

“Any of you gents have a fag?,” asked Fields.

“No sir,” said Godwin.

“That figures. Now, as you can see there's only one other chair in this room. I suggest that one of you sit down. Then, tell me what you want to talk about,” said Fields.

Basham sat down and waited for the Inspector to open the conversation with the man.

“Mr. Fields, it is my understanding that you worked at

Ashton's here in Manchester,” said Godwin.

“Aye, that I did for thirty years. I was the shipping clerk,” said Fields.

“Yes, I was told that you held that position. I was also told that you might remember where certain articles were sent,” Godwin mentioned.

“What kind of articles? ” asked Charles,

“A particular blue silk ribbon. It was manufactured in China and purchased by Ashton's before the war,” Godwin explained.

“I don't know anything about blue ribbon,” said the man.

“We were told that you shipped an order of blue silk ribbon to Hesterton. We're hoping you remember the address where you sent it,” said Basham.

“I just told you, I don't know anything about any blue ribbon,” said Fields.

“Are you sure? Try to remember,” said Godwin.

“No. I told you I don't remember. Now, I'm tired and it's lunchtime. I want you both to leave. Sister, tell them to leave,” Fields ordered.

“Gentlemen, I'm afraid your visit is over. I'm sorry but I must honor Mr. Fields request,?” said Bertha.

Basham got up slowly out of the chair. He stood and looking at Fields said, “Thank you for meeting with us. Don't

think that this is the last time we'll meet. We'll be back and when we do I guarantee that we will refresh your memory.”

After thanking Bertha Hicks both men left and entered the automobile. “Well. Nothing ventured, as they say. I'll get you back to Hesterton and you can motor home” said Godwin.

“While we're here in Manchester let's go to Ashton's.

There's something I want to discuss with their management,” said Basham.

“ What”s that? ” asked Godwin.

“Charles Field's employment record.

Arriving at Ashton's Inspector Godwin asked to see the store manager. The two men waited for about ten minutes before a tall, thin man wearing a black suit, white shirt and blue bow tie came forward where Basham and the Inspector stood.

“Gentlemen, I was told that you wanted to see me. Is there a problem?”, asked the manager.

“No, sir. I am Inspector Godwin of the Heasterton Police. Currently, we are involved in an investigation, one of which one of your former employees might be of help. However,

for the record, we need to know the background of the individual. This then requires me to investigate hi,s history as well as his work record and employment file,” said Godwin showing his credentials.

“I see. Can you give me the employees name and when he was employed?”, asked the manager.

“Certainly, Charles Henry Fields. All I know is that he was employed here during the war. So, let's say 1940-45,” said Godwin.

“This might take a while gentlemen,” said the manager.

“We can wait,” said Basham.

Twenty minutes later the manager appeared. “Gentlemen I suggest we retire to my private office. We can speak freely there,” said the man.

“Jolly good,” said Godwin. He and Basham then followed the manager to his office. Once inside they took seats in

comfortable stuffed upholstered chairs.

“Now then, allow me to introduce myself. I am Archibald Blake. I am the current manager of Ashton's and have been for the past ten years. Although I find your request for past employees records somewhat concerning I will, however, allow you to view Mr. Fields file. At the same time, you may take notes from anything that you observe. I hope that meets your needs.”

“You are aware sir that I can get a court order which will require you to turn over these records,” said Godwin.

“Yes, I am. Just as you are aware that I would then turn this matter over to our solicitor,” Blake responded.

“Let's not get too hasty gentlemen. I for one see that viewing Mr. Fields records under the conditions set forth by you, Mr. Blake is satisfactory. I'm sure you agree with me. Don't you Inspector? ” said Basham in a tone of voice that requested co-operation.

Taking the hint Godwin replied, “Certainly”.

“Smashing. Now I'll give you the file Inspector,” said Blake.

“One moment, please. We know that Charles Field was employed here during the war. Why wasn't he in the service of the King?”, asked Basham.

“I've been told that the chap had one leg shorter than the other,” Blake replied.

“Oh, I see,” Basham replied.

Alistair sat quietly as Godwin would read one page of the file then pass it to him. Basham then would read the page then stack it with each one creating a neat pile on his knee. Occasionally, Godwin would jot down notes in his small notepad. Basham relied on memory. Finally, Godwin was finished.

“I believe I have what I wanted. Thank you for your co-operation,” said Godwin.

“My pleasure,” said Blake.

Alistair stood and handed the papers to the manager. “Thank you, sir. We appreciate your help,” he said.

All three men shook hands and Godwin and Basham left.

On the drive back to Hesterton Godwin said, “Well

we didn't get much from the visit to Fields. At the same time, I only got very little information from Ashton's.'

“Really? Did you pay attention to the place of birth? Past residents? Education and schools attended ?,” asked Baham.

“No, not really,” said Godwin.

“A pity.”

“Why is it a pity?”

“Because that little piece of information gives you a lead in your investigation,” said Basham.

“A lead?”

“Oh, quite old boy. You see, Charles Fields was born and raised in Derbyshire, Derby”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

Derbyshire

 

Alistair sat at his desk. Before him was a black leather bound, address book. In his right hand was a telephone receiver that was pressed to his right ear. “Thank you, David. I'll wait to hear from you,” he said then he hung up the telephone.

“You've been on the phone all morning. Who are you calling?” asked Joyce.

“Several of my previous students. In particular those in Derbyshire and Derby,” Alistair answered.

“I imagine that it must have something to do with the bog bodies in Hesterton,” said Joyce.

“That it does. I'm beginning to think that the solution to Alfred Godwin's cold homicide case is in Derbyshire. Since I have taught many young people who went into law enforcement I feel that in this case, it is necessary to call on them.”

“Call on them for what?”, asked Joyce

“Information of course. For instance, in my research, I learned that a Margaret Ainsworth a midwife was from Derby in Derbyshire. Later I learned that Charles Fields, a man who could tell us where he shipped silk blue ribbon under questioning more or less ordered us out of his room. Then by checking the bloke's employment record, we find that he was from Derby in Derbyshire. So, my love, at present I'm asking

those that I know for information trying to determine if Fields and Ainsworth know each other and if so, how?”

“Do you really expect to solve this case?”, asked his wife.

“It's not my place to solve. My position is to provide Inspector Godwin a profile of a suspect or suspects. It is his job to solve the crime. Not mine.”

“And how close are you to producing the profile, may I ask?”

“Close love. Very close.”

Three days later while Alistair and Joyce sat at their kitchen table having tea and biscuits the telephone on the wall rang. Joyce lifted the receiver and answered, with a "Hello? Just a minute. It's for you, Alistair."

Basham got up from the table and walked to where Joyce sat holding the receiver. Taking it from her he said, "This is Alistair Basham."

"Doctor, this is David Eastbrook."

" Ah, David, nice of you to call. Have you learned anything?"

"I believe so. Elizabeth Garrick was born in Derby on October 7, 1874, as Elizabeth Fields. She married Edgar Garrick on April 14, 1891. It appears that Edgar was killed in action in either Belgium or France in 1915. Elizabeth never remarried.

She did take up with several chaps they say. One in particular during the war in the forties, However, right now we don't know who he is or was. She next appears in records as being certified as a midwife in 1923. As a midwife, she made fifty ponds that year. She more or less disappears until 1929. at the time she is suspected of doing abortions. An investigative case was opened by the Derbyshire Constabulary, however, known and suspected victims refused to co-operate or testify in court.

In the year 1930, she went into a partnership with Margaret Ainsworth, then a highly requested mid-wife. The partnership once again was suspected of doing abortions with the same results. The two women then left Derby in 1939 and according to you moved to Hesterton."

"The move in 1939 goes along with my thought that they anticipated many pregnancies during wartime," said Alistair.

"That and the fact that the police were closing in on them," Eastbrook added.

"Of course. Of course. Well, thank you, David. You have been very helpful."

"You're welcome, sir. don't hesitate to call if you need anything else."

"Well. since you have mentioned it, would it be asking too much for you to do a background on one Charles Henry Fields of Derby?"

"No problem, give me a few days," said David.

"Thank you. Goodby," said Basham.

Alistair left the kitchen and went immediately to his study.

Once there he sat at his desk and opened the file he had made. He then wrote notes in relation to his telephone conversation with David Eastbrook. When he was finished he closed the file then reached for the telephone on his desk. He then dialed the number for the Hesterton Police. When the dispatcher answered his call Alistair asked for Inspector Godwin.

“This is Inspector Godwin,” said the investigator.

“Alistair Basham here.”

“Hello Doctor, what can I do for you? ” asked Godwin.

“I hope you can tell me that you have found the Ainsworth House.”

“Sorry, not yet. I do have the lads out knocking on doors. So far there are no answers.”

“I see. Well, the reason I'm calling is that I have had some success retrieving information from Derbyshire,” said Basham.

“Really?”

“Oh yes. It seems that Margaret Ainsworth and Elizabeth Garrick were both originally from Derby. The interesting thing is the Elizabeth was born, Elizabeth Fields.”

“Is she related to Charles Field?” asked Godwin.

“I suspect that she is however until I have positive information that question is yet to be answered.”

"Very well. please keep me up to date. Meanwhile, I'll try to do the same for you," said Godwin.

"Jolly good. Goodby."

One week later Alistair stood at his kitchen window watching a constant, cold, autumn rain flooding his backyard and garden. “Blasted rain. The vegetable garden is under water.

The beets, carrots, and rutabagas are rotting in the ground as I speak. I don't know why I even try. When one adds up the amount of money spent on seeds, plants, fertilizer, tools, and labor I can do much better buying vegetables at the market.”

“Then why do you do it?”, asked Joyce.

“Out of habit really. During the war, the government asked us to grow some of our own food. I grew vegetables to offset having to eat SPAM constantly.”

“I thought that you enjoyed your gardens,” said Joyce.

“ Well, my roses didn't produce the blooms I was expecting. They needed horse manure and I didn't go get it. My fault I agree.”

“Well speaking of food if we intend to eat I must get to the market. What will you be doing the rest of this rain-soaked day?”, asked Joyce.

“I shall be in my study, in my favorite chair and respond to the challenge of the London Times crossword puzzle,” said Alistair.

Forty minutes later the telephone on the desk began to ring. “Blast! Can't a man have some peace in his own home?”, he said getting up out of his chair. Picking up the receiver and speaking into it he said, “HELLO!”

“David Eastbrook here Doctor. How are you?”

“Ah, David. I wasn't expecting you to call.”

“Well I have the information you requested on Charles

Henry Fields.”

“Really? Excellent. Wait a bit while I get out pen and paper. Alright, let me hear what you have,” said Basham.

“Charles Henry Fields was born in Derby on November

14, 1878 to Archibald and Myrtle Fields. His father was a Dustman, his mother a housewife. He also had an older sister, Elizabeth. He was born with one leg shorter than the other. This kept him out of the Great War in 1914. It is speculated that Charles worked at odd jobs until he went to work as the chauffeur for his sister and Margaret Ainsworth. When we say chauffeur we mean that it's thought that he drove customers to and from the mid-wife surgery. Of course, here it is believed that the surgery was performing abortions. We believe that something happened that caused him to leave Derby and move to Manchester. It is possible that he believed the police were closing in on the two women. That's all we have at the moment.”

“Excellent my boy. We have him in Manchester. In fact , we've viewed his employment record,” said Basham.

“Alright then. If you need anything else let me know.”

“I will David and thank you.”

“You are welcome, sir. Goodby.”

Alistair immediately called Inspector Godwin. “Alfred

I've got news. As I expected Charles Henry fields is the brother of Elizabeth Garrick. The police in the Derbyshire Constabulary have suspected him for years as the bloke that transported young women and girls to Garrick and Ainsworth where they received abortions. It seems, at least the police believe that Charlie got cold feet when he thought the police were moving in on the operation. He then pulled up and made for Manchester City.”

“I see,” Godwin replied.

“Think about it. The three of them were born and raised in Derby. Charlies moves to Manchester City. The two women move to Hesterton. Hesterton is midway between Derbyshire and Manchester. This keeps the women with one foot in each area.”

“Interesting. I also have news,” said Godwin.

“And?”

“We found what we believe is the so-called Ainsworth House.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes. One of the lads came in contact with a chap by the name of Anthony Manno. Seems` that during the war he worked as a realtor. At any rate, he remembers renting a property to an Elizabeth Garrick in 1941. The reason he recalls the rental is that the property was in a rundown condition, needed repairs and was located far out from Hesterton proper. So when he took Elizabeth Garrick to see the property she more or less jumped at the opportunity to rent the place.”

“Interesting. Very Interesting. Was there any mention of Margaret Ainsworth?”, Basham asked.

“No, not that I know of so far,” Godwin replied.

“I see. Well, what do you plan to do next? ” asked Alistair.

“Right now I'm waiting for the court to issue a search warrant for the so-called, Ainsworth House. When that's granted naturally we will enter the premises and see what we can find,” said Godwin.

“I shall like to go along if possible,” Basham responded.

“I thought you might. Why don't you drive up and say, sometime tomorrow morning we'll enter and look the place over of course with the permission of the Queens court.”

“Splendid. I shall leave first thing morning,” said Alistair.

“See you then Doctor. Cheerio.”

When Alistair hung up the telephone receiver Joyce said, “Did I hear you say you were driving to Hesterton tomorrow morning?”

“Yes, to meet with Godwin.”

“I shall be going with you,” Joyce replied.

“Why?”

“Alan had asked me to inquire about a bill submitted to the university in relation to the snacks supposedly purchased by the students at the time of the dig.”

“I see. Well, since you will be at the Bridgeport Inn I suggest that you book us a room for say, two nights. I have a feeling that I might have to stay a bit longer than just a day,” said Basham.

“In that case, I might go back to the bog,” Joyce replied.

“Jolly good, that means you will be taking your working togs along.”

“Why is that so important to you? ” she asked.

“I have a feeling that I might need your expertise.”

“You know how I feel about getting involved in your criminal cases. Each time I do I'm the one that appears in court and has to testify for the Crown.”

“And I know that the university will enjoy the publicity it will receive in the newspapers of how one of their faculty helped solve a cold case murder. I also know that you will include your involvement in this matter into your next lesson plan on how paleontology helped solve the case.,” said Basham.

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

Ainsworth House

 

As Alistair drove his Bentley into Hesterton he turned to his wife and said, “ I'll go directly to the police station. You can then take the car and drive to the Inn. I have no idea of what we might find so I suggest that you keep your mobile on in case I need to call you.”

When Basham arrived at the Hesterton Police Headquarters he stopped the automobile got out and waited for Joyce to get into the driver's seat. After she did he waved good-bye as she drove off heading for the Bridgeport Inn.

Entering the building Alistair was greeted by the Desk

Sergeant who said, “Go right on in Professor. The Inspector is waiting for you”.

“Thank you,” Basham replied and walked a short distance down a well-lit hallway. Walking into Godwin's office he found the man reading papers. Godwin looked up and said, “Ah, Doctor. I must say that you are very prompt. I'm just going over the search warrant making sure that it is in order. Since it is and you are here we can be on out way. I just have to send two uniformed officers ahead of us.”

“Have you been out to the place?”, Basham asked.

“No. I did send a uniformed officer out there to secure the property at the same time that I applied for the warrant,” Godwin explained.

“Excellent,” said Alistair as the two men walked out of the building and to the unmarked BMW. When Godwin drove out of the parking lot he followed the two marked police cars. Soon they left the paved streets of Hesterton and entered a dirt road the led out of town. “ Is this Viceroy Road? ” asked Basham.

“Actually yes. The house we are going to is out in the bush, We still have a way to go yet,” Godwin answered.

“Notice how convenient the location of the place is for conducting mid-wiving for those who want their situation kept secret,” said Alistair.

“I agree,” Godwin replied.

Soon the Inspector turned into what used to be a driveway. He parked the BMW behind the two marked police cars and said. “This is it. This is supposedly Ainsworth House.”

Basham sat looking at a dilapidated, weather-beaten building. It was a large, two-story house. The windows on the second floor were broken. As were two of the front windows on th first floor. The front porch had settled to one side due to the rotting foundation. The front and side yards were covered with tall, brown weeds and sticker grass.

Both men left the BMW and stood for a moment gazing upon the old weathered building. Then they begin following the two uniformed officers toward the house. As they did sticker grass burrs adhered to their trouser legs. Reaching the front of the place Godwin placed one foot on the rotting first step to the porch and tested it to see if it would hold his weight. Satisfied that it would he then did the same for the next three steps taking one at a time until he stood on the leaning front porch. Alistair

and the two uniformed officers followed. One patrolman carried

a crowbar. When all of them stood on the porch Inspector Godwin ordered that the wood covering the front door be removed. The patrolman using the crowbar pried the boards away and using it again forced the door open, As is gave away the hinges gave a moaning sound not having been used for approximately fifteen years.

With the door, open Godwin stepped inside and using a hand torch illuminated what use to be the parlor. Basham stood

looking at the room now illuminated by both daylight entering from the front portal and Godwin's torch. He saw dust, cobwebs, and bird droppings on the wood planked floor as birds evidently few in an out of the broken windows. At the same time, he saw a winding staircase and what use to be a wall to wall rug covering once maroon in color, now brown stained with growing mold. Looking up at the vaulted ceiling he saw the cut glass chandelier hanging with dust and dirt, He then made his way to a white marble fireplace. Bending over he looked into the hearth. First, he saw a pile of old, cold ashes. Then, something caught his eye. It appeared to be a bone. “Is it human or animal? ”he asked himself mentally. “I say, Inspector. I suggest that you have a look at this,” said Basham.

Godwin walked to the fireplace and like Basham bent over and using his torch looked into the hearth. “Blimey! Is that what I think it is?,” said the Inspector.

“If you think that it might be a human bone then it's what you think it is,” Alistair replied.

“Can we be sure?” asked Godwin.

“I'm a criminologist, not a pathologist. To be sure I suggest you do two things,” said Basham.

“And? ” asked Godwin.

“First, have your photographer come out here and take photos. Second, allow me to call my wife. Have her come out here and as a paleoanthropologist let her use her expertise in identifying any and all such evidence we might find. Meanwhile, lets check the furnace in the cellar. suggested Basham.

“I'll call headquarters. You call your wife,” Godwin replied.

Joyce answered her ringing mobile telephone. “Yes what is it Alistair? ” she asked.

“How did you know it was me?”

“Because you said you might need to get in touch with me, so I've been expecting your call.”

“Well Love, I do need you to examine a bone we found,” said Alistair.

“What makes you believe that I can give you the information you need?”

“Come now. Aren't you the one who found the remains of Neanderthal in Israel? Aren't you the one that found the Viking Runestone in Scotland? Surely you can tell if a bone is human or animal.”

“Very well. Give me time to change my clothes.”

“That's a girl. The police will be there to get you. See you when you get here,” said Basham.

Turning to Godwin Alistair said, “ Well that's taken care of. I assume you called for the photographer. Now, I suggest that we take a look in the cellar.”

Godwin led the way down the cellar steps using his torch, lighting the way. Basham followed. When they reached the floor Godwin moved the flashlight slowly scanning the interior of the large room. “Oh, I say. There's what used to be a wine cellar, said the Inspector.

“Quite right old boy. However, by the looks of it it's been empty for some time. Let's take a look at the furnace,” Basham replied. Both men walked to the furnace. Alistair opened the heavy steel door and Godwin shined the light inside. Basham leaned over and looked inside. “Hello. It appears we might have more of the same old boy. Better have photos taken here as well,” he said.

“What do you see? ” asked Godwin.

“ What appear to be bones, small mind you but still, bones,” Alistair answered.

“ What's next? ” asked the inspector.

“I suggest that we take a look at the rest of the house and the backyard,” Basham replied.

The two men then climbed the cellar steps and entering the kitchen once more opened the back door and stepped out onto the rear porch. They then looked at the tall weeds that covered most of the grounds both back and side yards. Basham stood for several minutes looking, gazing, deep in thought then he spoke. “I suggest that you hire someone to mow down these bloody weeds,” he said.

“What on earth for? ” asked Godwin.

“I believe that once they are removed workers will be able to dig. When they dig they might find a body or two,” Basham explained.

“You believe that there are bodies buried here?”

“Oh yes, old boy. Mind you I can't be certain but if you were to look out onto the yard you will see undulations in the top of the soil line. Notice that one growth of weeds is lower than the others, here and there,” said Alistair pointing to places in the yard.

“And you think those two places are grave sites?” Godwin asked.

“Indeed. When the soil is disturbed, say dug deep as

a grave then filled again undulations occur and remain for some time. May I also suggest that you find someone or some agency that's in possession of a GPR.”

“What is a GPR?”. Asked the Inspector.

“ Ground Penetrating Radar. It was first invented in 1910 by Gotthelf Leirbach. It was also improved upon by Doctor

Hulsenbeck in 1926. If there is anything under the soil here the GPR should be able to detect and find it,” Basham explained.

The two men turned at the sound of automobile doors slamming shutout in front of the house. “That might be the wife.

If so we might get more answers,” said Alistair.

“Not quite Doctor. It appears they are the lads from

the forensic unit. Here to take the photographs,” Godwin mentioned.

“Ah, yes. Jolly good. Once that's done Joyce will be able to examine what we find thoroughly,” said Basham.

Forty-five minutes later the photographers were finished and Joyce Basham walked through the front door.

“Hello Love,” said Alistair.

“Don't hello me. You didn't mention that I would have to wade through bramble bushes just to get to the front porch. Look at me. I'm covered with weed seeds and burrs.”

“Well, you still look beautiful to me. Besides, you are attired in your working togs, not a silk frock,” said her husband.

“Hogwash. Now, what do you want me to see?”, she asked.

“Come with us to the fireplace and tell us what you find,” said Godwin

Joyce followed the two men to the fireplace then leaned over and looked inside the hearth. She stood erect then opened the small canvas bag that hung by a shoulder strap. Removing a pair of latex gloves she put them on and reached into the hearth and removed a large bone. After examining it carefully she turned to the two men and said, “This is a humerus bone or the bone of the upper arm. Of hand, I would say that it once belonged to a female age between twenty and thirty years old. Shall I put it back or do you want it?,” she asked.

“Please give it to Officer Baker here. He's with the forensic team,” said Godwin.

As she handed the bone to the officer Joyce asked,

“What's next?”

“We think we found something in the cellar furnace.

Would you be so kind as to take a look? ” asked Godwin.

Upon reaching the cellar floor the Inspector led Joyce to the furnace. After opening the steel door to the furnace and shinning the torchlight inside Godwin moved aside saying, “Tell me what you see and find.”

Joyce leaned over, looked inside and with the gloved hand removed three small bones. She studied each bone and then said,” These are phalanges, fingers, and toes. Unfortunately here without the proper laboratory equipment, I can't tell you the sex or age of the donor,” she explained.

“But you can say if they're human or not, can't you? ” asked Godwin.

“Oh yes. They are indeed human,” Joyce answered.

“Very well. Thank you, Mrs. Basham,” said Godwin. Turning to Alistair he said, “I will have the backyard cleared

and see if I can locate a GPR as you call it. I hope that you are correct in your observance doctor because this investigation is costing the town of Hesterton more than the budget allows.”

“Look at it this way my boy. The free advertising and publicity Hesterton will receive when you solve the case of the bog bodies will more than compensate for the expenses you are occurring presently. Now if we are finished here my wife and I would like to retire to our hotel. Her to rest and make herself beautiful. Me for a pint in the pub,” said Alistair.

“I shall call you when the yard is mowed and things are in order,” said Godwin.

“Good show, now we would like a ride back to the Bridgeport Inn,” said Basham.

“Of course. Of course. I'll drive you there myself,” said the Inspector.

 

 

Chapter Eleven

Profile

 

Two days passed then at seven AM on the morning of the third day the telephone in the Basham's hotel room rang. “What the bloody hell! Who is calling this early?”, said Alistair.

“Hello,” he said.

“Doctor? Alfred Godwin here, good morning. I just want you to know that the landscape chaps have cleared the backyard. I even had them mow a path from the driveway to the front porch. Now then, the lads from the Manchester City Police will be here shortly and will begin work with their GPR. I expect them to start at approximately eight this morning. Since I know that you and Mrs. Basham want to be here I'll have a patrol car

meet you at the Inn and transport you out here. Say in an hour or so.”

“You being a bachelor means that you have no idea of just how long it takes a woman to get ready in the morning for what she has to do in the day, especially when she'll be wearing work togs. At the same time, I'm sure she would enjoy a bit of breakfast. Therefore, Alfred, I suggest you send the patrol car at about ten AM this morning,” Basham advised.

“Of course sir. I wasn't thinking. Chalk it up to inexperience.”

“Nonsense, I appreciate your enthusiasm. I suggest that you stay with the GPR man or men. If they find something have them mark the place. When we get there Joyce will take a look on the GPR screen and make the determination on whether to dig or not. While she's doing that I want to take another tour of the house.”

“Looking for something in particular?”, asked Godwin.

“No, I just want an overview of the place in case I missed something,” Basham answered.

At ten forty AM Joyce followed Alistair up the new, mowed path that led to the front of the house. Basham helped his wife onto the porch steps holding her arm as she stepped gingerly on each board. They both entered the building and immediately walked to the kitchen, the backdoor then out onto the rear porch.

Seeing the Basham's Godwin said, “Ah, you're here. Good morning,” he said.

Alistair looked up to the sky and said, “Yes, it appears that the day will be clear and free from rain. There's not a cloud

in the sky. A bit warm for this time of year, don't you think?”

“Well, I think it's a good day to do the work at hand. Shall we get started,” said Joyce.

“Excellent. At present the lads from Manchester City

have found three places that indicated that something is buried in the yard. You will notice that they have placed markers where they made their findings. Now, if you will we'll have the chaps go over the area again. This time, however, you will see what they saw and you can make the determination on whether or not to dig,” said Godwin.

“Very well, let's see what we find,” said Joyce.

“While all of you are searching I shall be conducting the grand tour of Ainsworth House,” said Basham as he turned and walked back inside. Once inside Alistair made his way up the winding staircase. At the top of the stairs there was a hallway and from where he stood he could see five doors, all closed. The morning sunlight coming through the broken window panes made for good visibility and he walked slowly to the first door.

He turned the doorknob and gently pushed. It opened and he walked into a room that held a steel stool and an examination table complete with stirrups. “So this is where they did their work,” he thought to himself. Other than the table and stool only dust, cobwebs, broken glass and bird droppings were in the room. Basham then left the room stepped again into the hallway and made his way to the next door. He opened it nd stepped inside. There he found a complete Victorian bedroom set complete with a tufted padded headboard. The bed, dresser, chest of drawers and night table all of which were now dirty still revealed the antique white finish. “ Interesting, a bit of luxury in a place not known for it,” he thought again.

Leaving the bedroom he went to the next door opened it and stepped into a bedroom containing a French Provincial Expresso color bedroom set. The bureau, chest of drawers and night table all matched. Like the first bedroom, the window panes were broken and the rug wet by rain over and over had deteriorated with rot over the years. Continuing his observation of the upstairs the next two doors he opened were both bathrooms complete with bathtub, sink, and toilet. Checking the last two rooms he found them modestly decorated with inexpensive bedroom furniture.

While standing in the last bedroom he heard Joyce call,“ Alistair come here! We found something,” she said.

Basham walked to the broken rear window that overlooked the backyard. “What have you got?”, he called out.

“Bones, a skeleton,” she answered.

Alistair quickly left the room hurried down the staircase entered the parlor turned and made his way to the kitchen and backdoor. Outside he walked quickly to where his wife, Inspector Godwin and the GPR operator stood talking.”What do we have?” he asked.

“I won't know until I get down there. We're waiting for the photographer to arrive. Once photos are taken I'll climb down there and examine the remains,” said Joyce.

Basham turned and watched two men digging on the other side of the yard. “What Are they after?” he asked.

“Probably another body. They have found what I consider to be another grave site. That and one near the wooded property line,” Joyce explained.

“Three graves?”, asked Basham.

“Let's hope that's all there is,” said Joyce.

One hour later Joyce Basham was lowered into the deep grave that held the skeletal remains. She knelt down and then carefully studied the complete set of human bones. After a time she looked up at the men standing above watching her and said. “This was once a young female. I judge her to have been between eighteen and twenty-five years of age. I can tell that she had given birth by the presence of a series of shotgun pellet sized

pockmarks along the inside of the pelvic bone caused by the tearing of ligaments during childbirth. Now, someone give me a hand up.”

Alistair turned to Godwin and said, “That my good man is the remains of Edna Bule.”

“Are you certain doctor? ” Godwin asked.

“Well, at least ninety eight percent positive,” Basham answered.

“Mrs. Basham, can you tell the cause of death?”, asked Godwin.

“No, but a pathologist might,” she answered.

Thirty minutes later Joyce entered the second grave.

Once again she took her time as she studied the skeleton. Satisfied with her determination she said. “This is another young female. Again I believe her to have been between twenty and thirty years old at the time of death. There is no sign of childbirth.”

“Odd, wouldn't you say?”, asked Godwin to Basham.

“Not if the victim bled to death from a hemorrhage caused by a botched abortion old boy,” Alistair replied.

The police, diggers and the Basham's stopped for lunch and Godwin had sandwiches and hot tea brought to the crime scene. As the Inspector, Alistair and Joyce sat on the back porch steps eating Godwin asked, “Are you now any closer to providing me with a profile yet, Doctor.”

“Patience my boy, patience. We have one more body to look at. After that, I should be able to come to some decision. Hopefully, it will aid you in your investigation,” Basham answered.

“I certainly hope so,” Godwin responded.

An hour later Joyce looked up, after finishing examining that latest skeleton. “This one is different. I judge these remains to be that of a female between sixty and seventy years old,” she said.

“And that would be what's left of Margaret Ainsworth,” said Basham.

“Really? asked Godwin.

“Oh to be sure old boy. You see the way I see it

the Ainsworth woman was opposed to doing abortions particularly when whoever that as yet unidentified woman lying in the grave there probably died as a result of a bad abortion. So, they killed her and buried her with the others.”

“What about the Bule girl? asked Godwin.

“We won't know until a pathologist tells us if one can. I would say that Edna Bule probably died after giving birth probably because of poor care, infection, whatever,” Basham explained

“Now, do you have a profile?”, asked Godwin.

“I do. Your killers are a man and woman now in their eighties and living in the area,” Basham answered.

“A man, yes, Charles Fields, but who is the woman?' asked Godwin.

“The woman is Elizabeth Garrick and you'll find her three doors down the hallway from her brother's room in the Oak View nursing home in Manchester City. We were so involved in finding and talking to Charles that we never inquired about his sister. However, Charles Fields is not your killer and not the one that put the babies in the bog,” said Basham.

“Then who did? ” asked Godwin.

“Anthony Manno. It came to me that by nineteen forty-five due to the blitz over one million buildings were destroyed by German bombers in the London area alone. Manchester was also hit severely. Why then would a realtor holding a valuable piece of property that this once was allow it to rot away? At the same time Sybil Morgan told her solicitor that she had been taken to, and I quote, a stately home, The answer is what you uncovered buried in the backyard and found in the furnace. He didn't want to take any chances that anything would be found.”

“Then why did he say that he rented a rundown property to Elizabeth Garrick,” asked Godwin.

“ I believe that at one time there was an intimate relationship between him and Elizabeth. She was able eventually to control him. He helped her get rid of the baby bodies after she killed them. He also helped her kill Margaret Ainsworth, Elizabeth Garrick is eighty-five years old and dying of cancer. I can only assume that Manno expected her to die any day when he lied to your patrolman about the rental. At the same time he expected that she would be too ill to testify in court against him,” said Basham.

“What about the blue ribbon?”, asked Godwin.

“Once again we weren't too far off by assuming that the babies were strangled with the ribbon. I can't say for certain but I believe the blue ribbon was to be tied to the cribs of male babies and pink for female babies. Unfortunately, we never found traces of pink ribbon. The ribbon traces found on the throats of the bog bodies only indicates the ribbon was used as a strangulating device. This to me indicates that the two midwives were responsible for the death of the newborns, One killed using suffocation the other used the ribbon for strangulation. We might never know. I doubt that by the condition of the babies bodies a good pathologist would find it nearly impossible to say that strangulation was the cause of death settling instead for suffocation as the cause,” Basham explained.

“What was the relation between Manno and Elizabeth?”, asked Godwin.

“Theirs was an intimate relationship. Over a period of time, Elizabeth was able to control him. He was the one that buried the bodies in the bog and the backyard. He was also the one that killed Margaret Ainsworth,” said Alistair.

“Do you have evidence that he killed Ainsworth?”, asked Godwin.

“Yes circumstantial of course.” Turning to his wife he asked. “My dear, did you find a Hyoid bone in the remains of who we believe is Margaret Ainsworth?”

“I found a fragment of the Hyoid bone. The rest had been destroyed by force, time and environment, meaning being buried in the soil, “ said Joyce.

“Keep in mind that Margaret Ainsworth by seeing her skeletal remains was tall. Elizabeth Garrick is small, short to be exact. I doubt seriously that Miss Garrick tiny as she is could assault and strangle anyone. That leaves Anthony Manno,” said Basham.

“Or Charles Fields,” said Godwin.

“Possibly. Nonetheless, my place was to provide you with a portrait profile. I have. Not only have I supplied you with the profile but also have given you my theory on the case.

You now Inspector must proceed further without me. I suggest you question Elizabeth Garrick and soon before she dies and takes many answers with her. I for one believe she will be co-operative. However, I don't see her implicating her brother. That's up to you and the prosecutor to decide Charlie's role in the case. Now, if I may I'd like someone to drive me and my wife back to the Inn.

"One more thing. Who belongs to the remains we found in the fireplace and furnace," asked the Inspector.

 "We probably may never know who that unfortunate woman was. Perhaps you will learn who she is as you continue your investigation," said Basham

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Afterword

 

As previously mention “The Case Of The Bog Bodies” is a work of fiction. Yet, there are many cases on infanticide reported time and time again. Should the reader take the position that such things could or would never happen where more than one or two infant murders might take place I refer you to the following:

Miyoki Ishikawa a midwife in Japan is reported to have killed 103 infants.

Dagmar Overby a midwife in Norway between the years 1916-20 killed between 29 and 108 infants.

 

 

Robert F. Clifton

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Imprint

Publication Date: 10-21-2017

All Rights Reserved