Read Depth of Deception (A Titanic Murder Mystery) Online
Authors: Alexander Galant
Every muscle in the woman’s body contracted with the jolt.
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP
Like an archeologist trying to piece together the history of a lost civilization, Callum Toughill had the ruins of his family’s name spread out on the wood-tiled floor of his modest London flat. Stacks of letters, journals, and newspaper clippings were placed in chronological order. Percy Winthrope had lulled Callum into a false sense of complacency when he showed him the file. It was only after Callum agreed to take on the case that Percy placed the little file folder in the hidden banker’s box stuffed with the rest of the files.
Taking a sip of his coffee, Callum surveyed those very files surrounding him.
Where to start?
Logically, with the crime itself. Setting his cup down as far away from the rare documents as he could, he walked over to the furthest pile of papers. He carefully picked it up as to not drop a single precious page. After setting them down gingerly on his kitchen table, he stole a glance to the label on the top:
"
1909 Homicide Report – Victim: Agatha Gilcrest
"
Flipping open the folder, Callum’s eyes fell upon a sepia photo of the victim. He picked it up, noted the fur stole and large sparkling jewel on her hat, then stopped and studied her face. She was elderly, her features care-worn, silver hair parted in the middle, large intelligent dark eyes surrounded by laugh-lines that had deepened with age. Callum couldn’t tell if it was a smudge on the picture or if she perhaps had a mole on the left side of her chin. Regardless, the wrinkles around her mouth seemed to indicate they were used to sitting in a smiling position. The expression on the old woman’s face reminded him of his own grandmother when she was concentrating on baking chocolate chip biscuits. Callum smiled to himself as he thought of his own grandmother. He hadn’t thought of her in years. Now looking at this old woman’s picture, he felt guilty that he hadn’t. After all, his grandmother practically raised him and he was away when she died.
He never got a chance to say good-bye… or even thank you.
He suddenly had a craving for chocolate chip biscuits. He carried the picture with him as he walked across the room and then grimaced as he took a sip from his coffee. It didn't quell the craving.
Turning the picture over, the photographer’s mark was A. McArthur, Glasgow 1907. Callum glanced to the next page at the short paragraph of her life summarized by some officer. There was very little to tell. She was a spinster in failing health. According to her doctor she was dying from chronic kidney failure. She had inherited her fortune, valued at an estimated £80,000 in 1909, from her father. Using the calculator on his wrist watch, Callum estimated that to be equal to £8,000,000 today. Her only servant, Heather Langlea,
had
said in a statement:
'Miss Gilcrest
didn't have many visitors
.
Sometimes t
here were some businessmen that came to the house…I
think to appraise her
jewels…she wore jewels every day
about the house
, usually a ring and
her
brooch…
oh, and
when she went out to din
e
she wore more jewels.'
After 82 years, there were no other details about her life.
What was her favourite colour? Why did she never marry? Did someone break her heart? Who were these gentlemen visiting an old woman
so often
?
How frequently do jewels need to be appraised?
Eight decades of her life so completely eclipsed by her murder that no other detail survived.
He continued to sift through the pages of the police report, now yellowed with age. There were a few photographs of her large flat at 13 Queens Terrace in Glasgow, Scotland.
Not far from St George’s Cross subway station,
thought Callum as he recalled his hometown. That particular station was one of the oldest, built in the 1890’s, so it would have been operational in 1909.
The exterior photograph showed an unassuming townhome building with a waist-level wrought-iron fence surrounding it. Several gas lamps had been generously placed along the street.
A
nyone
entering or leaving the building would
have
be
en
noticed.
The interior of her flat was cozy. For a woman of her wealthy stature, it was quite a modest
ly-sized
dwelling, with ornate fabric wall coverings. Callum looked up at his own gaudy wallpaper. It wasn't his style, but it had been there from the previous owners. He never planned on staying here that long; this was supposed to be temporary lodgings after his divorce five years ago. Living alone, he hadn’t the time or the need to replace the wall decor. Looking back at the photo he thought to himself,
T
hey don’t make it like that anymore. At least not affordably.
Callum looked at the rest of the décor in the photo: large framed paintings surrounding the room, someone’s portrait over the fireplace.
Was that her father?
The elegant furniture was typically Victorian in style, which would have been the height of home fashion when this photograph was taken.
At first glance there appeared to be piles of snow blanketing the floor of the room. On closer inspection of the photo, Callum determined that the effect was from pieces of paper that were scattered about.
Had someone been looking for something?
Callum continued to scribble in his notepad as he read over the testimonies of eyewitness accounts from that night.
Four nights before Christmas around 7 o’clock, Heather Langlea, the sole servant and companion of Agatha Gilcrest, had stepped out to fetch a newspaper.
Odd time of day to get a paper,
thought Callum.
During that time, Adam McArthur, who lived in the apartment directly below Miss Gilcrest, stated that he and his family heard three loud knocks on the ceiling. Believing that Miss Gilcrest needed some assistance, McArthur went upstairs to investigate.
He apparently went to Miss Gilcrest's door and rang the bell. Even though no one answered, he was certain he heard noises inside the apartment.
Thinking nothing was wrong, Adam McArthur returned to his flat downstairs. After recounting what he had heard, his young daughter urged him to check on Miss Gilcrest one more time. Reluctantly he plodded back up the stairs. As he passed the front entrance of the building, he saw Heather Langlea returning from her errand. Together they glimpsed a man in the building's hallway, but neither found his presence unusual, as it could have been another tenant or a visitor. At any rate, Mr. McArthur told Miss Langlea what had transpired in her short absence and together they entered the apartment.
To their horror, they found the body of Agatha Gilcrest lying in a pool of blood by t
he dining room fireplace,
with her head smashed in. Mr. McArthur said he bolted back down the stairway, but the mysterious man seen earlier in the hall had already vanished into the gloom of that rainy night. The only person he saw was another resident returning to the building: a 14-year-old messenger girl named Molly Wheelman.
Callum’s fingers rifled through the old pages. He finally found what he was looking for: the medical statement by Dr. Hugh Glaister.
Callum’s eye
s
meandered over the gruesome details
, down to the conclusion:
"
Cause of death: Extensive wounds and fractures of the skull, and
broken
ribs, together with
internal
bleeding there f
rom. Injuries were produced by
violent
blows
with a blunt weapon,
which
had been applied with
excessive
force.
"
Looking again at the photo of Agatha Gilcrest, he still couldn’t help thinking of his own grandmother. He wondered what kind of person would beat a sweet old woman to death. She was sickly, already dying. What possible motive was there?
He turned his attention back to the police report:
"
Miss Gilcrest had obviously known her attacker, as there was no sign of forced entry to her flat, and he was presumably aware of her routine. The motive appears to have been robbery.
"
Callum wrote the word
'
robbery
'
in his notepad and circled it. It was already established that the victim had kept a large collection of diamond jewelry in the flat.
What exactly had been stolen?
He then rifled through the papers and found what he was looking for: the list of insurable assets, file number JC34-1-32-8. Callum started reading the detailed list consisting of glasses frames of 18 carat gold, 3-diamond star brooch, gold onyx pearl diamond bracelet, emerald diamond ring, ruby diamond ring, gold bangle with pearl and turquoise, even a scent
bottle with a pure silver top
. Using his finger he counted the pieces on the two-page list. There were 58 pieces of jewelry in all with a total value listed as £1,875 6 shillings and 3 pence. This would have been in 1909 so today they would have a value of almost £2Million, a sure-fire motive for murder.
Callum was about to get up to go take another sip from his coffee when a faint scribbled note nabbed his attention.
'
Only one item missing – crescent brooch with 22 diamonds.
'
There it was.
Something so important was just a side note in the margin.
There was also a sketch of the brooch, which matched the photo that Percy had given to him for this investigation.
Callum glanced back at hi
s notepad where he had circled '
robbery
'
for motive. He then looked at the photograph of the small jewelry box that had housed the victim’s collection.
If the motive had been robbery, why didn’t the killer take the entire box?
"
Perhaps it would have looked too suspicious to be carrying a jewelry box in the hallway,
"
Callum said aloud to himself. Then, why just steal the one piece?
What was so special about that brooch?
Why not take a whole handful and stuff it in his coat pocket? It was December, so it would have been cold enough to wear an overcoat.
It didn’t add up. Callum looked back at the eye witness report. Mr. McArthur and Miss Lang
lea described the man they saw
as
"
about 5'6", young, fair haired, wearing a light grey overcoat and a black cap.
"
There was also young Molly Wheelman, who told the police that she had bumped into a man
"
hurriedly leaving the Gilcrest address.
"
From the time that she quoted, and running into Mr. McArthur, it would have undoubtedly been the same man that Mr. McArthur and Miss Langlea saw. However, Wheelman described the man as
"
very tall, young, with a fawn cloak and a round hat.
"
"
Eyewitness accounts,
"
sighed Callum. When he was studying criminology, a man had suddenly stormed into the lecture hall, knocked down the professor, grabb
ed her purse from her desk,
then darted out
of
the room. The professor calmly stood up and asked each person in the class to quickly write down a full description of her attacker. Callum Toughill vividly recalled the man and described him in great detail. Once everyone was finished, the professor opened the door and called out,
"
You can come back in.
"
Her attacker returned and casually handed her purse back. Callum was shocked to see
that
he had some details correct but many were drastically inaccurate. How could he have been so sure and yet so wrong? As it turned out, he was not the only one. His fellow classmates had done the same with varying different details.
The lesson that the professor wanted to emphasize was that eyewitness accounts and human memory are flawed. Such was the case with the man seen fleeing Miss Gilcrest’s flat.
Callum was about to close the file when a statement from Molly Wheelman caught his eye.
Hours later, Molly is reported to have told Miss Cleaver that:
"
Miss Gilcrest had been murdered. I think I saw the man who did it... I am sure it was AG. He was walking with Miss Langlea that very night.
"
Callum looked at that for a moment. Callum knew from history and the file folders in the room that the police suspected and arrested a man by the name of Otto Slade.
Who the blazes was AG?
Was she confusing it with the initials of the victim? He looked through the alphabetic file folders,
but
there was nothing else resembling a man with the initials ‘AG’. Why wasn’t this lead pursued? What idiot didn't follow up on all these unanswered questions?