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Wednesday, 1st July 1908
‘Please be careful,’ Bea warned as Kirsty left the house the following morning.
Kirsty wasn’t usually demonstrative, but she kissed her aunt on the forehead.
‘I will, I promise, though I doubt there’s much risk at this time of day. And Martha and Ethel always escort me home.’
The sun dazzled her as she stepped outside and she pulled the brim of her hat forward to shade her face before joining the throng of shoppers heading for the High Street and the Overgate. The WFL shop was still closed, and she stood in the doorway until Martha appeared, brandishing the key.
‘Lila not here yet?’ She pushed the door open and ushered Kirsty inside. ‘How was your aunt after I left yesterday? Does she approve of me?’
‘She approves of you but not the suffrage cause.’ Kirsty shrugged. She couldn’t fathom her aunt’s thoughts; part of her wondered if Aunt Bea was as disapproving of suffragettes as she claimed.
‘As long as she doesn’t forbid you to come here. It can create difficulties when there is a conflict of interest.’
Ethel barged through the door.
‘Sorry I’m late, I had to redo my hair. I was trying to shape it into a French roll, but it wouldn’t behave and I ended up tying it back.’
‘A French roll?’ Kirsty was unfamiliar with modern hairstyles. Her mother wore her hair in a bun, while Kirsty’s own hair flowed in waves to her shoulders.
‘Yes, you comb it, secure it with hairpins, then roll it between your fingers so it sits above your shoulders like a sausage, which you have to pin into place. Christabel Pankhurst wears her hair that way.’ Ethel laughed. ‘It’s not as easy as it looks. I gave up.’
‘Hand me some pamphlets, Ethel. I will try distributing them in the Overgate today instead of standing in front of the Pillars. There was a council meeting yesterday, and I got glares from the town councillors going inside. I’ll be back here for one o’clock, in time to go to the house and we can catch up on everything. See if you can find large sheets of paper somewhere – I’m sure we have some for making posters.’
‘Won’t that leave the shop with no one to tend to it?’ Ethel handed her a pile of leaflets.
‘We close at one every Wednesday. You won’t find any shop open this afternoon – it’s Dundee’s half-day.’
‘We didn’t get half-days in the mill during the week,’ Ethel said after Martha left. ‘How was I supposed to know?’
* * *
IT WAS MID-AFTERNOON by the time Martha spread three large sheets of paper on the dining-room table.
‘I don’t know about you two,’ she said, ‘but I am worried we are getting nowhere in trying to find this killer. The police are no better, though they have arrested Amelia’s boyfriend.’
‘Do you think he killed her?’ Ethel’s voice held a note of doubt.
‘It is possible, I suppose. But why kill the other two? That is what I can’t understand. Anyway, I thought we could make notes and see if we find any crossovers. One sheet for each victim.’
Eight chairs were arranged around the table. Martha pulled one out, picked up a pencil, and sat. Kirsty leaned on another chair, at her right, while Ethel hovered on her left. Martha selected a sheet of paper and, after nibbling the end of the pencil, she started to write.
Victoria Allan, she wrote on the first sheet. Body found on Sunday, 28th June, but thought to have been murdered on Tuesday, 23rd June. Relatives, Elizabeth Inglis, sister. Davie Inglis, brother-in-law.
Both girls leaned forward to watch.
‘That doesn’t leave us much.’ Martha gestured at the paper. ‘I suppose we could put Davie down as a potential suspect.’
‘Are we only looking at men as suspects?’ Kirsty asked.
Martha looked up.
‘I had only been thinking about men. But you are right, it could have been a woman. Anti-suffragist women can be more vicious than men.’ Under suspects, she added Elizabeth’s name.
‘That only gives us two suspects for Victoria.’ She tapped the pencil against her teeth. ‘Unless she had an admirer we don’t know about.’ She added a question mark under Suspects.
‘What about motive?’ Kirsty asked.
‘Davie didn’t approve of her suffragette activities, and although Elizabeth was noncommittal, she has expressed no interest in the cause.’ Martha added this under Motive.
‘Now for Gladys.’
Martha wrote Gladys Burnett on the second sheet of paper. Body found on Friday, 26th June; murdered the evening before. Strangled with her sash. Relatives, none known apart from her estranged husband, David Burnett. Husband thought to be working in India, therefore, opportunity not present.
On the third sheet of paper, she wrote Amelia Craig. Body found on Monday, 29th June; murdered the previous evening. Relatives, Callum Craig, father. Ina Craig, mother. Potential suspects. Father, he disapproved of Amelia’s suffragette activities. Billy Murphy, boyfriend, currently under arrest. Motives similar, disapproval of suffragette activities.
‘We don’t have much information,’ Kirsty said. ‘Do you think the police have more than we do?’
‘The bobbies aren’t going to tell us anything.’ Ethel glared at the sheets of paper. ‘Look at the way they treat us when we have something to report. Face it, they see us as a nuisance. All they’re interested in is pinning it on some poor sap like Billy Murphy so they can say they’ve found the killer.’
‘I am in no doubt you are right, Ethel.’ Martha drummed her fingers on the table. ‘Perhaps Billy is the person responsible, but if he’s not, then we still have a killer roaming the streets of Dundee.’
Kirsty had been studying the details on each sheet of paper while they spoke.
‘I can’t see a connection between the victims apart from being members of the WFL. There doesn’t seem to be any other crossover, although there’s someone else linked to every murder.’
‘Is there?’ Martha’s interest was piqued.
‘Yes. Paul, the reporter. He’s been present when each of the bodies was found. He was with us at the Howff and knew which path to take to find Victoria’s body. He found Gladys’s body when he went to interview her – at least, that’s the reason he gave. And he was with you, Martha, when Amelia’s body was discovered.’
‘Surely, that must be a coincidence. A reporter is always on the hunt for news stories.’
‘I am not sure I believe in coincidences,’ Kirsty said. ‘And you’ve missed out a possible motive for Amelia.’
‘Have I?’ Martha scrutinised her notes.
‘We considered, at the time, that Amelia’s murder might have been connected to her having seen Victoria entering the Howff to meet her killer.’ Kirsty directed an apologetic look towards Martha. ‘And Paul was present when she told us that.’
Martha opened her mouth and closed it again. Kirsty was right. Paul had been there when Amelia made her statement.
She wrote Paul’s name on all three sheets of paper and included the additional motive on Amelia’s one.
‘We are making suppositions but, to be on the safe side, I suggest we make sure we are never on our own in Paul’s company from now on.’ A shiver ran through her as she thought of the number of times she had already been alone with him.
* * *
THE NEXT THREE DAYS passed with no further information coming to light, and Martha became restless. She read her notes over and over again but could add nothing to them. In the house, she prowled from room to room and when she went out, she darted in and out of the WFL shop, stopping only long enough to arm herself with leaflets to hand out.
Neither of the policemen returned during this time, which made her think they were certain they’d found the killer. Paul was conspicuous by his absence, for which she was grateful, because she wasn’t sure whether she should regard him as a suspect. She was convinced her reactions in his presence would betray her suspicions.
Martha had never been afraid during her forays on behalf of the cause. Not even on the few occasions when she’d travelled to London to join protests. But now, flickers of fear shivered through her when she found herself alone. It was as if a dark cloud hung over her, and she wondered whether it was a warning. A premonition.
Several times, she caught Kirsty and Ethel looking at her with concern in their eyes, and she resolved to ignore her misgivings. She had no time for such foolishness.