“I’m a man of action and admire the action of others. I want to know the next step of this investigation,” Hubert spoke firmly.
Val cleared his throat. “I’m sure you can guess from the—from your daughter’s body that she has been strangled. So, this is a murder investigation. As this investigation is on-going, I can’t tell you everything but I will be leading it. We will be speaking with her closest friends to see who might have wished her harm.”
“I can tell you the answer to that Inspector. No one. Irene was a lively girl with not a care in the world. She was well liked and loved,” Hubert said quickly.
“Well someone wished her ill will Sir,” Val returned quietly. “Someone did and then saw their plan through.”
???
Caroline lay in the darkness of her room. She had declined the evening meal and even sent away a tray that Cook had kindly prepared. Her eyes were red and puffy and she felt sick to her stomach. She had heard the words her father had told her as she sat next to her grandmother; their hands clenched tightly together.
But she had instantly fled to her room to cry and try to come to terms with the tragedy. How could anyone harm Irene? She was fragile, young. She was like a four-week-old kitten. She had caused no harm and done nothing to harm anyone else. Caroline tried to stem the flow of tears but they came again.
Why? Why had this happened? Why had someone taken the life of her beloved sister? The anger erupted inside her and she threw her silver backed hairbrush against the window causing damage to the glass.
It didn’t make her feel better and she wondered at her momentary stupidity. Now the window would have to be mended and the brush might have to be fixed as well. She looked out into the small garden that seemed asleep in the low moonlight and caressed the glass with her fingertips. Irene. Darling Irene. Her sweet sister was no more.
???
Val added Irene’s picture with the others and sighed deeply. There were now four victims of the Primrose Strangler. Though he had not told Irene’s father Hubert, the truth was there. A flower had been found with her body. Irene Derry was the fourth and he vowed the last woman to fall prey to the killer’s deadly hands. He must delve into Irene Derry’s life with a microscope and find the man who had done this to her.
The key to the killer lay within Irene’s life. Somewhere there was a clue that would help him find the killer. He drank the scotch in his glass and contemplated the four women. They were like ghosts surrounding him all the time, always reminding him that they were there, unrelenting. They were relentless and he must be the same. He must never stop until the killer was stopped. There was no other way. The killer must be found.
A knock sounded on his door and he looked up sharply. It was after midnight. Though he rented a room in a boardinghouse, his room was at the back of the house with a separate entrance for convenience and privacy. He placed his glass down and opened the door.
“Caro—Miss Derry!” He said absently when he saw her on his door step. “What are you doing here?”
Caroline entered the small room which was simply furnished with a bed, desk and chair, small armoire and a sink to wash in the mornings. He watched as she moved into the room and seemed to fill up the space. She was wearing a brown dress with lace at the wrists and a high neckline.
“Our groom took you home after you went to the pub with my father. He directed me here at my insistence,” she told him as she stood facing him.
“You shouldn’t be here. It’s late. This is my bedroom. It’s—“
“If I shouldn’t be here, where should I be?” Caroline wondered. “Crying and mourning my sister’s death? Or doing something about it?” She said the words with strength but her eyes were filled with tears.
Val pulled his jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on. He was conscience of his state of undress even though he was wearing trousers and a shirt.
“Miss Derry.” He began.
“Tell me Inspector. What do you plan on doing? Really doing?”
He looked at her intently. Her eyes were bright and looked red from crying. He ached to think that she might be in pain, but he knew she was. He knew the exact pain she was experiencing now. He knew it was like an open wound, red and oozing nothing but fresh pain over and over again. He wanted to pull her into his arms to comfort her. He wanted to press a soft kiss to h
er temple and tell her it would all be right even if it wasn’t. For one moment she would believe it.
“I plan on doing my job Miss Derry. I plan on working very hard to bring this killer to justice. Secondly, you shouldn’t be in my room. So, I’ll escort you home.”
Caroline look at him with wild eyes. “I shouldn’t be in your room?” She repeated.
“No. You shouldn’t.” He said softly.
“I shouldn’t be in your room. My sister’s dead and I shouldn’t be in your room.” She repeated again.
Val took a step towards her. She looked delicate in the soft gas lights and he knew she was about to turn hysterical. He could hear it in her voice.
“Where should I be? You tell me. I don’t want to stay home looking at the walls. Listening to my grandmother crying in the next room. Hearing the servants whisper. And no one dares say her name. No one will. Not my grandmother, not my father. Not the servants. Why don’t they say her name? Will it make it all right? Will it make it all disappear if we don’t say her name?” She could hear her voice getting louder and more shrill.
She covered her mouth with her hand to stop the flow of words and then felt his arms surround her. She could feel his hard-muscled chest press against her body and his hands were touching her hair.