The Baby Jane Murders (7 page)

-------

In his hotel room, where Hendrych wa
s patiently waiting with a weak
Martini served at the hotel bar, Kroupa sat at his computer
generously provided by the hotel management, invited Hendrych to
take a chair and sit next to him, and started looking through the
plastic bag. The DVDs were sorted and in a number of protective
cases. Randomly, Kroupa picked one. It was labelled 'Nora'. It
contained a crude pornographic film. There were other cases with
labels 'Bestiality' and 'Threesome', 'Kids', and few others. Kroupa
didn't bother to look at them. One of the cases was titled
'Private'.

“That's
what we’re looking for. This I want to scrutinise. Sara, look away.
This is not for your innocent eyes." On the first disk there were
shots of a woman, probably Mrs Cotton, in the bathroom. Kroupa
ejected the disk and inserted the next one. It had clips of Mark
satisfying himself. Kroupa took that one out as well, shaking his
head in disbelief at the perversity and vulgarity of the old man
Cotton.

"He must have
hidden a camera in the bathroom!" a shocked
Hendrych exclaimed. They struck gold with the third disk. It was of
very poor quality, as most security images were, but it clearly and
unmistakably showed the two teenagers, Mark and Greg drinking
with
Angelina
. They were touching her and she was
trying to avoid their advances. The more she drank the less
resistant she became, until finally the two boys raped the
semi-conscious
Angelina
in turns. "That
answers my question and puts away any doubts I might have had,” an
exalted Kroupa said.

"What a
re you excited about? This was the brutal premeditated rape
of a weak, innocent young woman." Hendrych objected.

"I agree with you on the first issue. Premeditated rape,
yes. I doubt
she’s innocent though." Kroupa said
contemplatively.

"What do you
mean? She's been helping us." Hendrych didn't understand.

"Soon you’
ll know. But for me, it’s still too early to say more,"
Kroupa said quietly.

----------

"My honourable Detective Chief Inspector, allow me to say
that I fully sympathise with you, but what you've just told me are
only hypot
hesis. You don't have any proof, do you?" Senior Constable
Milton was carefully choosing the wording of his objection at the
Katoomba police station.

"Then get somebody from the DPP to listen to me.
The
y will
surely approve an investigation into the case, when I ask them."
Kroupa was impatient.

"Have it
your way. But you'll take full responsibility."

"
I
couldn't agree more, thank you," said a relieved Kroupa and made
himself comfortable in the chair.

"What else do you want? What are you waiting for?" asked
the worried
Constable Milton.

"For the DPP." Kroupa nonchalantly answered.
Milton left his
office in sheer amazement and full of worry. Kroupa followed him
and asked the young constable where he could order a sandwich and a
can of beer. The constable offered to get it for him
herself.

"
That’s very kind of you. If you can get me an egg and salad
roll, I'd be extremely happy, if that's not possible, you choose.
And two cans of cold Guinness. Much appreciated." He went back to
his chair, waited for the sandwich and Guinness. The constable
brought two paper bags, one with the Guinness and handing him the
other, she uttered, "Sorry, no egg and salad roll. I got you a
rissole role instead. With a lot of tomato sauce. If you're hungry,
it may do."

Kroupa gave her fifteen dollars
and said, "Keep the change." Then,
with a grimace he opened the sandwich bag. He was glad that at
least the Guinness was cold. When the food disappeared in his
stomach and the first can was empty, he turned his attention to his
iPhone and began playing chess. It kept him busy until the DPP
arrived. "Thank God for useful apps." Kroupa greeted the DPP with a
loud exclamation. "If it isn’t Les Lee! What you have been doing
all this time?"

"Kroupa?! Wh
at a surprise. At least I can rest assured we’re dealing
with facts. What can I do for you?"

"I don't know yet, to be frank
. I just shot a man dead, saved a
young woman's life, and before he died, the deceased told me
something rather unexpected. I want to pursue it further. I need to
have access to all information about Edward 'Ted' Baldwin and his
family. I mean everything. Family documents, the whole history of
everybody, including the children, their school reports. As I said,
everything. The coroner's report on Mrs Baldwin's death, birth
certificates of his children… the usual. And I need a warrant to
search Baldwin's house."

"What about the dead man?
Didn't you go a little
overboard?"

"What
are you saying? There are dozens of witnesses ready to
testify that Baldwin was going to kill this young lady and I aimed
at his legs. It was his fault that he fell to the ground so fast.
If he would have stayed upright, he’d still be alive." Kroupa
retorted sounding profoundly hurt. "There is one small thing
though. I don't know if it’s in the scope of your authority. I
would like to see Miss
Angelina
Baldwin in
protective custody."

"Did you say
Baldwin? I thought that the deceased was Baldwin."

"
As
always, you are remarkably observant. Yes, they both carried the
same surname. Quite a coincidence, wouldn’t you say? But it’s a
common surname. Can you arrange protective custody for
her?"

"I
’ll see what I can do. That really is a matter for the
local constabulary. I promise nothing." Lee pensively answered.
"I'll talk to the people in Sydney. After all, the Baldwins resided
in Sydney."

"Am I free to
travel? Within Australia?"

"You'll have
to talk to the local police. With your credentials and witnesses on
hand, you shouldn't have too many problems."

Agains
t all regulations, Kroupa was set free.
Angelina
was taken into protective custody, as Kroupa wished. He
summoned Sara and Hendrych. He talked to both of them, looking at
each other in equal intervals. "We must go to Sydney. And we’ll
need a car. No more charter planes and taxis! And Sara is not
welcome in them, anyway. The best shot will be," here he was
looking at Hendrych, "if you take the train to Sydney alone, pick
up your Spider and come back here to pick us up. Then we can all go
to Sydney. Sara likes travelling in style."

That settled
and inspite of the heat, Hendrych put on his
cashmere turtle-neck pullover and his leather jacket, pocketed his
phone, his valet, checked that his driver's license was in it and
called for a taxi to the railway station. Kroupa sat in the
armchair in his hotel-room and with Sara at his feet he turned on
his iPad. He knew that he had a good five hours until Hendych
returned. He wanted to use this time to think. He opened MindMaple,
his favourite brainstorming application. Lots of thing were
bothering him. He felt that there was some connection between
Gertrude's and Baldwin's deaths, the fact that
Angelina
was Baldwin's target and his last words - who was 'she'?
The attacks on Hendrych and himself - had the boys tried to silence
them. Coke cans - what was their significance? He was skilful and
experienced in mapping his thoughts and after maybe two hours, he
was satisfied. He learned to recognise when there was nothing for
him to do and he knew what to do in those circumstances. He opened
a can of cold Guinness, turned on his home studio and listened,
very loudly, to Beethoven. He started with the Emperor piano
concerto, then he concentrated on the Choral Fantasy and in the end
came all nine symphonies. That was the plan, but Hendrych arrived
in the middle of the 'Pastorale'.

"
Just as well you came after the Fifth. Now we can go. Sara,
get ready, Johan is driving us back to Sydney."

Hendrych was taken a
back. "Now? I just arrived! Won't you check out
first?"

"No, this should
only be a short excursion. You don't want to miss
it, do you?"

"No, I
wouldn't miss any of your adventures even for a bottle of Williams
Chase."

Kroupa saw that Hendrych was in a good mood and didn't want
to spoil it. "And what about for
a Monkey 47?"

"That I m
ight just consider. You know I don't like Germans that
much. But where did you acquire such a lot of knowledge about
gin?"

"No
t
so much gin. Rather Germany, The best beer comes, they say, from
Germany. Followed by the Czechs and of course they all come after
Dublin's Guinness."

"Of course. But stop talking drinks. It
’s making me
thirsty."

"There’
s no time for this. Besides, you’re driving."

The three of them crammed in
to the Spider, feeling good going on a new
adventure.

"Where to?"
asked Hendrych.

"First to
Sydney. I will tell you the exact address when we're on Parramatta
road."

Kroupa had Baldwi
n's address from the registry at the Hydro, but
wasn't sure there’d be anybody in. Ted Baldwin had mentioned that
his wife was killed and he himself was now dead too. But there
would be neighbours and their gossip was what he wanted. "Go to
Rainbow Street," he ordered.

"Didn't you
forget something?" Hendrych asked.

"
PLEASE. Happy now?"

"Yes, very.
But I don't know where it is."

"Ask your GPS, PLEASE. Doesn't yo
ur beautiful red machine have
one?”

"Of course it does. But I don't know how to read it. Do you
understand maps?
At school, I was hopeless in geography."

A
fter a few attempts to come to a mutual agreement, Hendrych
declared that he knew his way.

------------

Kroupa rang the bell,
but nobody opened the door. He knocked loudly.
Still no answer. "There is nobody home. What do you want?" A
sonorous voice asked.

"Where are
you?" asked Kroupa.

"O
ver here. You must be blind as a bat. You can hear me but
you can't see me. Ha ha ha. You are so funny. Come and have a chat,
here, on the veranda."

The three investigators went to the house next door and
headed to the veranda.
"Oh no, you have a dog. No dog poo in my place. I
can't stand dog pooh. It’s all over the streets and always ends up
on your shoes." The voice led them to a rather frail old man. He
seemed slightly humpbacked, but with the voice of a
giant.

"
Sara is well trained, don't worry. And she won’t bite you,"
assured Kroupa.

"
That's a strange name for a dog. Sara, did you say?" The
old man asked.

"
Yes, after Sarah Brightman. She loves to sing. You know,
the diva?"

"Don't have time for divas, not at my age.
Whe
n I was
younger, no one would dare compete with me. I was a devil back
then. But now, what sheila would look at me? And if they did, what
could I do? Dry as a broomstick. I sit here all day, wait for meals
on wheels, and sometimes go to have a word with Mrs Somerset. She
is a lovely old lady, not like the sheilas now days. Miniskirts or
shorts, nothing left to the imagination. And their tits are almost
falling out! Ha-ha. Fairdinkum, if I were sixty-five years younger,
I’d know what to do. But Mrs Somerset, she’s a widow and she’s
something else. Apron when she cooks, hair always done, fine
stockings. And on Sundays - church. Never misses a sermon. She is
what I call a lady. And you know, her husband was an apothecary, a
fine, learned gentlemen. They don't make ‘em like that anymore. No,
they don't. It’s a pity, don't you think?"

"I do. Tell
me, do you know your neighbours well?" Kroupa tried to get to the
purpose of his visit.

"Not very well. Sometimes I run into Mrs Peacock, and
then
there were the Baldwins.
They were, how
should I say, introverted? Quiet neighbours, with the occasional
outburst. But since Mrs Baldwin was shot and young Miss
Baldwin
left, it’s been very quiet. Mr
Baldwin
does not associate with anyone, so little in fact, that
people talk. I don't, unless I know the facts. That’s all I
know."

"You
mentioned outbursts. What were they about?" Kroupa
encouraged him.

"You know,
young women. The
Baldwin
s’ lass and the old man always fought, about nothing. The
girl got on better with Mrs
Baldwin
. She went to complain somewhere and people, actually two
women, came to talk to Ted Baldwin. After they left, there was a
big uproar, the lass walked out and Mrs
Baldwin
was hysterical. And then somebody came and shot Mrs
Baldwin
. They never found out who it was. It was a very
sad story. But otherwise, it has been a very quiet and peaceful
place. The only thing you always hear is the hum of the ocean. I
wouldn't live anywhere else."