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CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

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Hammond scowled at the files on his desk, one for each of the victims. Why couldn’t the damned women stay at home where they should be, instead of roaming the streets and getting themselves killed? It was all that suffrage stuff, filling their heads with nonsense about votes for women. If he had his way, he’d stamp it out, just as the London police did. They didn’t stand for it down there. The least little thing and they hauled the suffragettes to court and locked them up in Holloway. Pity the Scottish police didn’t do the same, but their instructions were to maintain order and send them home with a flea in their ear if they were misbehaving. Mark my words, Hammond thought, it won’t be long before they get up to their militant tactics here and when that time comes, he vowed to himself, he would run them in the same as he would do with any criminal.

He opened the file on the first victim, Victoria Allan, although her body wasn’t found until after the murder of the second woman. The autopsy report made grim reading. Statements from her brother-in-law and sister were brief, and he wondered if he should have pressed them for more information. He had to admit to himself that he hadn’t given the investigation any priority. In the scheme of things, a dead suffragette was not as important as other investigations awaiting his attention.

Gladys Burnett’s file was just as sparse. Death by strangulation. He’d sent Constable Buchan to do a door-to-door enquiry, but that had produced nothing. No one had seen or heard anything. They hadn’t been able to trace her husband and, as far as he knew, Gladys had no other relatives, though he hadn’t wasted time trying to find any.

The third file, on Amelia Craig, was similar. If he transposed the information to either of the other two, they would read the same. He could no longer ignore the similarities between the deaths. There was a killer on the loose in the streets of Dundee.

He closed Amelia’s file and placed it on top of the other two, letting his hand rest on it for a moment while he thought of how little information he’d gained. He’d been too quick to disperse the witnesses yesterday so he could concentrate on the body and the crime scene. Not that either of those had told him very much. A return visit to the WFL shop was in order.

With a sigh, he levered himself out of his chair and stomped down the corridor to the constables’ room. The clamour of voices died to a murmur and cigarettes were hastily dropped to the floor to be stood on and extinguished. Smoke nipped his eyes, but he narrowed them to slits to peer through the haze until he spotted Buchan hunched over a desk at the back of the room.

‘Constable Buchan,’ he roared. ‘This way. We have work to do.’

The constable grabbed his helmet.

‘Yes, sir,’ he said, adjusting the strap under his chin.

* * *

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MARTHA PULLED A FILE from the wooden cabinet in the corner.

‘I’m sure there will be information about Amelia in here.’ She riffled through the contents. ‘We always document our members’ details when they join.’

Ethel and Kirsty hovered behind her while Paul wandered around, examining posters and literature.

‘I don’t see anything, but I have found Gladys’s registration form.’ Martha laid a sheet of paper on the counter.

Paul turned around, but Ethel grabbed it before he picked it up.

‘This is private information.’ She glared at him.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

‘And here are Victoria’s details.’ Martha kept on sorting through the papers. ‘Amelia’s must be here, somewhere.’

The door swung open and Lila entered the room.

‘You are early today,’ she said, divesting herself of her jacket and hat.

‘I thought I might pay Amelia’s parents a visit, and I was looking for the address and any other details, but they seem to be missing.’ Martha closed the file and turned back to the cabinet. ‘I’m not even sure if anyone has informed them of Amelia’s death.’

‘I visited yesterday evening.’ Lila hung her hat from one of the elaborately carved hooks on the coat stand. ‘They were distraught. I came away thinking I hadn’t provided them with any solace.’

‘All the more reason for me to visit and extend my condolences.’

Lila rummaged in the recesses of a writing bureau. Finding what she was looking for, she handed it to Martha.

‘I was in too much of a hurry to replace this yesterday. File it away once you have what you need.’

Martha selected three notebooks from the top of the cabinet.

‘You don’t mind if we take these, do you? They’ll come in handy to write our notes if we find information that might be helpful to the investigation.’

‘You don’t need to ask,’ Lila said. ‘You know you are welcome to anything.’

Martha smiled her thanks and ran her finger over the embossed WFL logo on the cover of the notebook before opening it. The information on the forms was scant, but she copied everything, giving a separate page to each of the murdered suffragettes. Once she had finished, she handed a spare notebook to Ethel and the other to Kirsty.

‘Amelia worked as a dressmaker at Draffen and Jarvie,’ she said to Ethel. ‘Could you and Kirsty call there and find out what you can about her? Who her friends were, if she had any admirers, that kind of thing. Make sure to detail anything you find out in these notebooks. While you do that, I will visit her parents to offer my condolences.’

‘You will need pencils,’ Lila said, handing one each to Ethel and Kirsty. ‘Good luck!’

Martha drew Kirsty to one side.

‘I have an account there,’ she whispered, ‘so take the opportunity to buy some new clothes for Ethel. Perhaps a skirt and blouse and some undergarments. If necessary, explain to her it is normal practice to help our volunteers to present a professional appearance and it is not charity. Don’t listen to any objections.’

‘Leave it to me.’ Kirsty smiled.

After Ethel and Kirsty left, Martha turned to Lila.

‘Those two young women will be a credit to our organisation. We need to encourage them as much as we can.’

‘Had you anything in mind?’

‘Ethel has lost her job in the mill. It would be helpful if we could employ her officially. Use her as someone who can talk to working women. A little encouragement and she could be a good speaker for the cause.’

‘I am sure we can arrange something for her to do in the shop,’ Lila said. ‘And I can send her out as a support to our regular speakers to start her training.’

Martha tucked the notebook into her handbag.

‘I will let you know how Amelia’s parents are coping.’

Paul, who had followed Ethel and Kirsty outside, was waiting for Martha.

‘You’re still here,’ she said.

‘Yes, I waited to go with you to Amelia’s parents.’

‘I don’t think that would be a good idea. They might find a reporter intrusive.’

‘Well, at least let me escort you there.’ He shrugged. ‘I could stay outside.’

‘Why would you do that?’

‘That’s obvious. It isn’t safe for any suffragette to be on their own with this killer on the loose. I wouldn’t like you to come to harm.’

‘But it is morning and broad daylight. What harm could come to me?’

‘Don’t forget, the first victim was killed in the middle of the day.’

Martha failed to be convinced there was any risk involved in her visit, but it was easier not to argue.

‘Very well. But you must promise to stay outside and not make yourself known to Mr and Mrs Craig.’

‘On my honour,’ he said.