Death Under Wrathful Skies by Baker Blythe

Author:Baker, Blythe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-10-16T00:00:00+00:00

9

Commander Townsend was on my mind for the next few days. Part of me struggled with the idea that he was truly such an upstanding man. Surely there had to have been something in his life, a secret he would have wanted kept, that would have drawn the attention of some unsavory folk. It had to have been the same with all the men who were killed, surely?

“Madam, one does not have to be entangled in something dreadful or secret in order to be murdered,” Mrs. Bell said to me as we perused the vegetable stand at the farmer’s market that following Saturday. “It is quite possible that the killer was nothing more than a madman who had nothing better to do.”

“But something has to tie them all together,” I said as she loaded bundles of herbs and freshly picked carrots into a basket hanging in the crook of her arm. It was not typical for me to accompany her on such an errand, but I had felt restless and in need of an excuse to escape the gloomy house for awhile.

“It all seems too deliberate,” I continued. “Why choose random victims, but kill them all in the same way? It appears far too carefully planned. And the killer always seems to be one step ahead of everyone.”

The woman behind the stand at the farmer’s market looked up as Mrs. Bell began to paw through the turnips. “Are you talking about the Hyde Park murders?” she asked in her Cockney accent.

“Yes, we are,” I said.

“Horrible stuff that is,” she said, her eyes widening. “But from what I’ve heard, the killer was caught!”

“Caught?” both Mrs. Bell and I asked at the same time.

“Indeed,” said the woman with a fervent nod. “Just heard a newsboy shouting about it. A special edition of the paper, it seems.”

“But how?” I asked. “The killer has been eluding them for months. How could they have suddenly found him?”

The woman shrugged. “Dunno. But it’s mighty good news, if you ask me. Too many people were afraid to come down here near the Park, wondering if they might get snatched up and have their hearts ripped out.”

I stared around, searching for the newsboy she spoke of, who might still be lingering nearby.

“Thank you for your produce,” Mrs. Bell said, pressing some coins into the woman’s hand.

I was already on the move.

The lad wasn’t difficult to locate; I heard him before I saw him. He stood on the street corner nearest the bakery and the grocer, waving a fresh stack of papers in the air. “Hyde Park Murderer caught!” he shouted. “Scotland Yard promises peace at last!”

I frowned. “We’ll see about that…” I said.

I went over to the boy and bought a paper before hurrying back to the lamppost where Mrs. Bell waited.

I fumbled with the paper for a moment as a gust of wind swept up the street, but quickly managed to unfold it, staring at the article on the front.

Hyde Park Murderer Found! Scotland Yard Urges Public

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