St. Columb - Chapter Eight

VIII

I was left in the parlor after a few more questions from the captain. She then met with her lieutenant, Gavin Hockley to discuss what the coroner had discovered:
“Hockley!” she called, her authority immediately returning as she closed the front door.
“Yes captain?” Gavin replied as he hurried to her side. Gavin Hockley was young, around twenty-one with clean-cut brown hair and innocent brown eyes. His loyalty to Captain Thomas was unwavering, I am told that he owed her his life.
“What did you discover about the body?”
“Well captain, it appears that the poor thing was strangled. There were contusions around her neck, I don't think Miss Winter noticed them because they hadn't showed up yet.”
“So the child hadn't been dead long when she found her. What else?”
“Her arm was broken, two places. I'm thinking the killer restrained her by twisting her arm around her back. There were signs of repeated assault around the...vaginal area...”
“Just as I feared...goddamnit...” Celia said, yanking her trench-coat collar up around her neck.
“Well it seems as though he did knock her out before strangling her.”
“How can you tell?”
“The coroner said there was a large knot on her head around the back, it was as if he didn't want her to suffer through the strangling. He must have opened her eyes after he was done, to make sure she was indeed dead.”
“How considerate of him.” Celia said curtly. “Did you find any footprints? Any sort of sign that someone left there in a hurry?”
“Not yet captain, but our team is still looking. Don't worry, you've scared them into being very thorough.” Gavin said, cracking a smile. Celia laughed. Dear Gavin, you always seem to make me laugh. She thought; Gavin's face suddenly turned annoyed:
“Don't look now, but that damned watchdog of Bingham's is here.” he said, gesturing behind her.

I'm told that the 'watchdog' he was referring to was Phillip Delaney. He was sent by the commander, who still remained anonymous, after a report was filed by Richard Bingham. Bingham was a rather unpleasant man who resented Celia because she apparently stole his position. The problem was he was of a high position himself, one he did not earn through hard work but through bribes, and the only person that could deal with him was the commander. Celia had sent sent Gavin to deliver several messages to the commander about Bingham's sexist and bigoted actions, however she still hadn't received a reply.

“Bleedin' hell! Just what I need, a damn watchdog sniffing around and buggaring up my investigation. Find some way to distract him. I want to talk to the Dougan fellow and I don't want him sticking his bloody nose in the situation.”
“I'll do my best captain.” Gavin replied, and then went off to distract Phillip.

Celia found Dougan sitting on the tailgate of the truck smoking a cigarette.
“You know that's supposed to be bad for you.” she said leaning up against the truck.
“Yeah, but I don't do it very often anymore. Not with the kids and all, its bad for them.” he said, throwing it away. “What can I help you with cap'n?”
“Well I was hoping you could shed some light for me.” She took her notepad out.
“Sure thing, anythin' I can do.”
“Tell me about Joanna Henry, Lydia Hughs, Megan Somers, and Dona Austen.”
“Alright...Joanna and Lydia are the same age, eight I think but I'm not sure. Megan is five, and Dona is six. All of them suffered severe trauma during the bombin's; Dona saw her mother get blown to smithereens, Lydia and Megan were trapped underneath the rubble for several days. Lydia was trapped not only under the rubble, but her parents dead on top of her. The three, not including Dona, have made significant improvement since coming here, they are by nature quiet kids but some days they don't talk to anyone. It breaks my heart...” Dougan replied, biting his lip. Celia smiled, this man had a good heart, she could tell; and she had been around plenty of people who hadn't. She had impeccable instincts, he couldn't be the killer.
“You say Dona hasn't made any improvement, what do you mean by that?”
“Well she doesn't talk to hardly anyone. She only talked to me and Emma, occasionally Grace or Lynsay, Rachel's sister. Rachel just recently got her to say a few words to her, she's trustin' her more by the day. However some days she don't talk to no one, like she's hidin' somethin' or she's afraid. I can't really explain it.”
“Do the other girls get like that? Talking one day and keeping tight-lipped the next?”
“Sometimes, I can't really tell because I'm not always around them. I do odd-jobs around the orphanage or I run errands for Emma. I'm sort the do-it-all guy.”
“Well I have my team interviewing the other staff-members so don't worry about that. You've been a tremendous help Dougan, really.”
“Anythin' you need cap'n. I want you to find the bastard that did this to Beatrice...” he said, choking up a bit; the discovering of the body had shaken him up more than he cared to admit. I would later find that he would confide only in me to express his emotions.
Celia was about to respond when Phillip Delaney came up
“So captain, how is the investigation coming?” he replied in a cheerful tone.
Phillip Delaney was rather difficult not to pay attention to; he was tall with dark-blonde hair, sea-green eyes and broad shoulders. He had a captivating smile and was a charmer, to everyone except Celia Thomas.
“Delaney...I just finished interviewing Mr. Bardwell so there's nothing here for you to do. Thank you again Mr. Bardwell.” she said, earning a nod from Dougan. She walked back to her patrol car, Phillip on her heels.
“Now hold on a minute Celia, why do you have to be so curt with me? I honestly want to help you.” he said, gently touching her shoulder.
“Oh bollocks. You're here to report every bleedin' cock up I do to this anonymous commander that we all serve.” she replied, knocking his hand away.
“Now why do you assume that?”
“Because that bastard Bingham called you here. Plus any bloke who still remains anonymous after several months of holding the position that he does, is not looking like a very trustworthy fellow. If my father were still alive—“
“He would have made sure that people like Bingham wouldn't have bribed their way into positions of authority. I knew your father Celia, and its a bloody shame that someone like him was lost because he was the best damned officer I had ever met.” Phillip said, sincerity in his eyes. Celia was caught off-guard, she never expected a 'watchdog' to say something like that.
“Y—you knew my father? But you're not that much older than me.”
“My family was also in Scotland Yard, I didn't grow up much differently than you. You can trust me Celia, I want to help you. Believe me, I despise Bingham as much as you do; I just have to play his game so that I don't arouse suspicion and get sent back without proper evidence.”
“I'm not going to be easy on you, I'm going to treat you like all of my other officers and if you don't like that's tough.” she warned, not showing how happy she was to hear him say what he did but still not completely sure she could trust him.
“That's all I ask for.” Phillip smiled.
“Right then Delaney, go fetch Gavin and Robert. Tell them I sent you and if they give you any mouth they'll get the dog piss slapped out of them by yours truly. Ask them to compile their notes, you help them to form a profile of this perpetrator. Got it?”
“Clear as a bell.”
“Well then what in bloody hell are you still standing here for?” Celia said, her hands on her hips. Phillip smiled and ran off; she rolled her eyes and went to look for Emma. She needed to talk to this girl Dona.

I had escaped to the sanctity of my room. Lynsay, my sweet, loving and adoring Lynsay, brought me tea and understood that I just wanted to be alone for a while; She kissed my forehead and quietly left me to my thoughts. Celia had aroused certain things in my mind that I would have otherwise ignored, deeming them pointless information. Joanna, Lydia, Megan, and little Dona all had one obvious thing in common: they all suffered tremendous trauma before they came here. What wasn't deemed important were several things: One, they were all of pale complexion and had blue or bright green eyes; two, not one of them was older than the age of nine; three, they all were very quiet by nature, not making it obvious to anyone if their mood changes unless one was really paying attention; four, they were all relatively small for their age, making it easy for someone to control them. I was noticing a pattern, and as I drank my tea I began to make notes of it, writing it down so to make it easy for me to visualize and remember it. I sat my cup down and bit on the tip of my pen, there was a pattern here, but was it important? Were these just a product of my imagination sent into overdrive from the recent trauma? Is this monster so cunning and particular that he had a type of child to assault?
The clock chimed two o'clock but I was not tired, nor had I any desire to sleep. I kept writing notes, making a chart. Finally, something seemingly obvious came to me:
“Oh my God...it has to be someone here. Someone who knows the demeanor of the children. Male, obviously...but who? Most of the staff-members are female, minus two and Dougan.”
I was thinking out loud, biting my pen and drumming my fingers on the desk. Dougan shouldn't have even entered my mind, I knew that he couldn't possibly do something so monstrous. I hadn't known him for very long, and I was biased because I was madly in love with him; but somehow, I could stake my life on his innocence. I crossed his name off of the list of suspects that I had compiled.
My thoughts were interrupted by a rustling in my closet; I froze, terrified. The sound was much too big for a rat, it was something bigger. I stood, looking for something to defend myself with; I saw my umbrella sitting in the corner, it wasn't much of a weapon but it would have to do. I armed myself with it and, with a trembling hand, reached for the door. I placed my hand on the knob, took a deep breath and yanked the door open.
“Oh my God...Dona!” I said, dropping the umbrella and kneeling down. “What on earth are you doing in here? You gave me such a fright darling. Are you alright?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady and calm.
“Yes miss...I'm sorry...I was looking for somewhere to hide....” she was trembling underneath the curtain of dresses; her eyes wide like a cat's.
“Come here dear.” I said, stretching my arms out. She slowly crawled toward me and I gently scooped her up and carried her to my bed. I sat down with her in my lap and continued to talk softly to her.
“I understand that you wanted to be safe but why, of all places, my closet? Don't you feel safe in your room?”
“Sometimes....just not tonight....the monster....it got Beatrice didn't it?” she asked, her little voice just above a whisper. “You don't have to lie to me.....I heard Mr. Dougan...when he called the good guys...he said that Beatrice was...” she buried her face in my chest, her little fists clenched my dress. I did my best to keep composure for the child's sake, but her little sobs were enough to break my heart.
“Y—yes Dona....I'm afraid it's true, what you heard I mean. I didn't want you to hear it like that, I wanted to tell you in a more gentle manner.” I held her tighter, her small frame seemed weightless.
“It won't stop....not until it's gotten it's fill.....” Dona said, her voice trembling as she cried.
“What won't stop dear? The monster?” I asked, realizing that this 'monster' could be the perpetrator. I tried my best to keep calm and not frighten her more, perhaps if I could just coax her enough....
“Is that who you're talking about?” I asked gently
“It won't stop...it won't stop...” she sobbed.
“Shh, there, there now. It's alright darling I'm here, I won't let anything happen to you. Remember? I promised you I wouldn't.” I said, stroking her hair; tears of my own were starting to roll down my cheeks, I quickly wiped them away so she wouldn't see.
“I remember....but you can't stop him....he's too strong...too smart....” she cried softly, lowering her voice as if she was afraid someone would hear.

I noticed that time that she said 'he' instead of 'it'. This confirmed my suspicion that the 'monster' was indeed male, and that he had to be someone who worked here. I had to somehow find a way to get Dona to tell me more, but she was so afraid of whoever was doing—

Then I realized something even more horrendous: Dona was one of the victims