Death in Albert Park Read Online Free

one had seen a stranger in the avenue that evening, no one had heard an unusual sound, and no strange car was reported to have been waiting in the neighbourhood. The weapon had not been found though medical examination decided that ‘almost certainly’ it was the weapon used for the murder of Hester Starkey.
    So now a picture was beginning to form in the minds of the more imaginative residents and it was a very horrible one. Someone, almost certainly a man, waited on dark or misty nights among the trees of Crabtree Avenue, or perhaps in one of the more shadowed gardens, or among the trees by the school gates at the top of the avenue. He was armed with a butcher’s knife, a powerful blade at least ten inches in length. He was either a raving madman, or, more probably and more fearfully, a schizophrenic, a Jekyll-and-Hyde, who could appear perfectly normal at other times. He was waiting for a woman to appear alone at a time when the street was deserted. Any woman, it was thought, for the only thing that Hester Starkey and Joyce Ribbinghad in common was that both were a little less than average in height. His mania was to strike, to kill, and no more.
    A Mr. Tuckman, a city man at number 24, was reputed to be something of a psychologist and was listened to on this.
    â€œAlthough the urge is certainly pathological, and must have some sexual basis, this is no ordinary sex-maniac. The bodies were not mutilated in any way.”
    But this gave no reassurance to the residents who were growing increasingly apprehensive. The police were much abused though no one could suggest what might have been done to prevent the second murder, unless it was to make an arrest after the first.
    â€œIf they had done that,” boomed Goggins a little obviously, “Joyce Ribbing would be alive today.”
    Precautions were, of course, taken by Dyke, though the nature of these were not revealed. A special patrol of the uniformed police covered the avenue from lighting-up time till the small hours of the morning, and there were other steps secretly taken to safeguard those who had to use the avenue at night. But the residents themselves were their own chief protection.
    On the night after Joyce Ribbing’s funeral, Alec Tuckman called together what he called a nucleus of those concerned and suggested that the men should form themselves into a body of Vigilantes. These would be available “to escort women, to keep their eyes and ears open, and to try to buck up the police a bit,” so that the district could be itself again. He, Whitehill, (an occulist and rather an obscure character sent by his wife to Tuckman’s meeting,) Goggins, a man named Heatherwell from number 32, and a young insurance agent named Gates who lived with his aged parents atnumber 52, agreed to this and it was hoped to increase the force.
    The Crabtree Vigilantes received their rebuffs, however. The Press, though not openly ridiculing them, gave them such prominence that they could not carry out their simple programme unmolested, and the fact that local residents had been forced to form a Vigilante society was made to reflect on the police. When Turn-wright, a somewhat vulgar character from number 28, was asked to join, he retorted with ill-timed flippancy, his reply being considered in the worst possible taste.
    â€œVigilantes?” he said to Goggins. “What the hell for? For twenty years I’ve been trying to get rid of my old woman—d’you think I’m going to spoil my chances now?”
    But in spite of such set-backs the Vigilantes set to work and there was a good deal of telephoning between their houses and even a search, by three of them with torches, of front gardens in the avenue on a particularly murky night.
    All this did not relieve the very real horror of the situation. There really was some kind of madman about and he had evidently chosen this quiet avenue for his assassinations. There really was danger,