~ DEATH IS JUST THE BEGINNING ~
 JM Dragon 2003

© 2003 by JM Dragon
Email: jmdragon@jmdragon.net

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Love/Sex:..This story features strongly implied consensual relationship between adult women. If this bothers you, is illegal in the State, Province or Country you live or if you are  under the age of 18, find something else to read. There are loads of general stories out there.

Language:..Some strong language.

Violence:..Some violence in this story.

Hurt/Comfort:..There are scenes of heartache to be dealt with by the characters.

Dedication:..This story could have been my final one, but isn’t. Thank you to all those readers who offered genuine support and continue to read, not only my stories, but others too, we all appreciate your wonderful feedback. This story is simply for you.

Acknowlegement: My beta readers, Alice, Packer and Mel thank you as always, special thanks to T and Ephany for reading over the final draft as a double check.

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Part Ten

Jenny looked over her old photos, at least the ones that she displayed in her home for anyone to see. Her special ones were locked up in a strong box along with several of her journals, a poignant reminder of the old days; in her case the good old days. As she saw it now, her life was drawing to a close in many ways. She no longer garnered any respect from her comrades, the opposite in fact! What remained of any power base she had, had shredded before her this evening. What could possibly have been brought to the detective’s notice to pursue an investigation into something that was a relic of the past…of no importance anymore to anyone or anyone of note? Bootle didn’t really count; she wasn’t an official in any capacity to hurt them.

Her eyes travelled over the pictures of schoolchildren that had attended the school. Many still lived in the village and those that didn’t, who were few and far between, had gone onto successful lives in other parts of the country. Even some had managed to make it abroad. She smiled, knowing she had been instrumental in them being where they were now. It was a matter of record and something she had to admit a growing pride of, especially in her later years. She might not have always thought so in the early years when she was teaching the English youngsters. Over time that had changed, a subtle irony she always thought.

A heavy sigh escaped as she touched a long bony figure to one frame in particular, a rather special one. The first full academic year after the war and she had tutored one particular pupil for over a year to enable him to attend university, almost two decades later, that man was running for parliament, he even kept in touch! Had things been different and espionage still one of their strong points, Ben Riddle would not be giving the orders…she would, especially with a Member of Parliament who chose her as a confidant.  All that was now a pipe dream and there was a chance that they would finally be found out. After all these years under deep cover, it simply wasn’t fair play!

Walking over to the small cupboard under the stairs, she opened it switching on the light which shed light into the darkness allowing her to spy what she wanted immediately, her strong box. It had been a long time since she’d allowed the contents the light of day as the dust exhibited, wiping away the thick layer heaving the heavy container out of its recess. Lifting a chain from around her neck, placing the gold tiny key in the lock and hearing the snick as the mechanism opened.

Kneeling on the floor beside the box, knowing that later she would pay for this action with aches and pains, but it was worth it. Flipping back the steel lid her eyes glazing with unshed tears, as she saw the numerous photo’s she hid from view. Clutching several, she reminisced for a few minutes over each one. Her family, friends, colleagues and her pride and joy, the day she was given her first medal of merit by Hitler himself! What an honour that had been shortly before she had been given this assignment. She suspected it was because of the medal that she had gained the recognition for such a plum role in the early strategy of the time. Picking up the velvet case, she removed the medal gently, fingering the pattern with inner pride. If things had turned out differently, she would have had more than one medal for her efforts here in this country they called home but had no allegiance for.

Her eyes strayed to the journals and private papers, including her birth certificate. Inspecting the name printed there, such a long time since she’d been called by that name…Gilder Bruamere.

Dropping the item back in its case, she pulled over one of the journals dated nineteen forty, dates, details and explicit secret documents sent to verify the plan’s undertaken. If anyone found this information, it would be the end. Everything was here. >From the first message they had back in the early thirties to setting up the school as a refugee camp to enable them to carry out their mass killings, down to the final message informing them of their great leader’s demise and to await further instructions…they were still waiting.

Pulling out the journal that planned the demise of Violet Reed, having been given a clear command from their superiors. The spy had been instrumental in giving the resistance in France their first major breakthrough on the intelligence front. Finally allowing the underground force credence and hope and faith that there was always hope of a chance to come back from the edge to the people of that beleaguered country. It had been easy to arrange. The woman had a contrived conversation between one of their spies at the government office she attended from time to time and their spy had, ironically, also been a lover of Millicent Packer who had talked with great relish about her small backwater village, if not her work. How easy it had been to push that into the conversation with the spy falling for it, and then coming here for a break thinking that she would be safe in Snagglenook. Looks can be deceptive and that had been the case in this tiny country village. This was another reason why no one in the government had looked for Violet. Her records had been forged, Millicent’s superior had seen to that, presumed missing on a secret mission.

They had always known of Millicent’s involvement with the records coming into the country and while she was tight lipped about her job, it had been easier to have her watched by other operatives rather than have her killed here in the village …at first that was. Then she had finally cracked under passion. A day before her death, she had let it slip that she was working on a secret cell in the country; tied to a spy in the government and that she was close to understanding the code. There was no way she could be allowed to do so. Devising a plan to kill both of the women with marvellous English weather played right into their hands.  Ransome had fixed the brakes on Violet’s car to fail with repeated use and in torrential rain that would be the case, especially coming down the hill to the village. The message from Millicent to Charlie to advise she would be on the late train had been diverted in London, the farm worker hadn’t known Millicent was going to be back that evening. The spy had been given a message that there was an urgent package for her on the train due in that evening and it was for her eyes only, she should personally collect it.

No one, but Millicent ever alighted from the train at the station in the late evening and Violet was the only one from the village, other than the stationmaster, who would be there. It had all worked out to perfection. Or had it? Re-reading the notes, Jenny tried but failed once more to find out how anyone could have known about them…unless, perhaps Monique had finally confessed to her part of the plan, it was a remote possibility. She was clutching at straws; she knew it, however that was all she had to go on. It had to have been…her mind worked furtively over the information. Suddenly recalling Monique had been killed in forty-four in an air raid over London, her cover had never been blown!

Pushing all the things back in the box she closed the lid locking it up and replacing the key around her neck. She shut the cupboard door switching off the light. Her secrets again in darkness, buried until the next time.

Struggling to stand, her bones creaked causing pain as the arthritis kicked back with a vengeance. Unsteadily, she walked back to her favourite chair and the hot drink she had prepared earlier.  She knew it was time to leave, it had been a long time coming and now it was here. She felt relief, yes, relief. A lifetime of deceit was hard on the best of them and she had, in her time, been the best!

* * * * *

“Packer, let’s make it easy on ourselves and walk up the fire-escape, it’s the quicker route.” Violet wished she knew how to fly. That might have helped, but they didn’t know how, and each thing they learned in this new after life of theirs was at a price.

“Good idea, Violet,” Milly made for the wrought iron steps and ran up with the spy moving as quickly as she could to follow her.

“Did you run for miles in your spare time, Packer, because you sure can beat me a hundred times over.”

Grinning at the backhanded compliment, Milly turned back to the wheezing smaller woman, “Remember, we don’t have the same physical boundaries we used to have. How is it you’re out of breath?”

“Habit,” Violet muttered a step behind the taller woman.

“The detective’s room is the one immediately next to the steps, want to go inside unannounced?” Without waiting for an answer Milly walked through the wall and with an exaggerated sigh Violet followed, cannoning into her as she entered the room.

“Damn, Packer, that hurt!” the pounding on the door quickly attracted Violet to the situation in the room. “What’s wrong, are we too late?”

“No. She’s sleeping heavily though. Maybe she’s taken something to sleep. Isn’t this the time you try to contact her and we tell her everything then we can all get out of this place for good.”

“Not as easy as that, Packer. Anyway, we need a third party and no, that isn’t you! Charlie we need Charlie.”

“Easier said than done. Who the hell is knocking on the door?” Milly’s face contorted in annoyance as she moved away from the almost corpse like woman in the bed, who was snoring like a trooper, to check who was knocking.

“Who is it?” Violet saw the look of astonishment on Packer’s face that quickly put her head through the door and then pulled it back just as quickly.

“I’ll give you two guesses.”

“Oh don’t play games, Packer. Is it Riddle, are we too late to save her?”

“No Charlie. It’s Charlie outside the door. Now to get her inside, any suggestions?” Milly glanced at the ex-spy who was, she had to admit, a very beautiful woman, if you liked them petite, which she didn’t, not usually that is.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Milly asked innocently knowing exactly what she meant.

Shrugging her shoulders Violet gazed pointedly at the door, “what about Charlie?”

Lifting up her hands. Milly literally didn’t have a clue what to do; it wasn’t in her knowledge span. “I don’t know. As I said, you’re the expert in these matters, you work it out!”

“Don’t be so damn…awkward, Packer, it doesn’t become you. I haven’t a clue either. You can be so exasperating, did you know that. You were looking at me as if I was waiting to be picked up like a common whore. Is that what you did when you were in London alone without Charlie?”

Milly felt her cheeks grow hot, not through embarrassment, but anger, what had it to do with her anyway!

“I’d no more than pick you up from a bar or anywhere come to that. Even if you were the last woman on the planet, stick that in your pipe and smoke it.”

Anger emanating from both women the sparks evident in every corner of the room, “Take a hike, Packer, I wouldn’t want you if you were the last person living on the planet, down here or up there!”

“Planet, down here or up there…” Milly and Violet looked around as the exact words she’d uttered in anger came from the heavily sleeping woman who was struggling to revive herself.

“You’ve done it, Violet, speak to her again, now!” walking over to the woman sleeping in the bed. It was hard to tell if she was going to respond again but she had to, she really did, or there would be no hope for either her or Charlie.

“Damn you, Packer, if only…” her eyes caught and held her unwanted partner in this ectoplasm world.  Focusing now on the task at hand, she urged Pru to wake up and answer the door. Several times she cajoled and pushed her along in the thought process and although they could hear her repeat the mantra, her body refused to move out of the bed.

“For Charlie, Pru. You must let Charlie inside, she needs you, now!” the urgency or maybe Charlie’s name had the desired effect as the detective groggily repeated the large woman’s name over and over again.  Scrambling to free herself from the covers on the bed, she finally unsteadily moved towards the door, unlocking and opening it a fraction.

That was all Charlie needed as she heaved a sigh of relief, pushing herself inside and closing the door quickly behind her. “Thank God you heard me Pru, I thought you were asleep.”

As the words left Charlie’s lips, Pru collapsed on the floor in an untidy heap. That never happened in the movies; usually a lover’s willing arms saved the damsel in distress from the unglamorous fall. In this case, Charlie was too late to react and gave out an oath as she knelt beside the spindly younger woman.

“Are you okay, Pru? Come on now, I need you to talk to me.” Under her breath Charlie whispered several unsavoury words not suitable for a lady, as her mother would say, although to her mind totally in keeping with their current situation.

“Time for you to do your thing again, Violet, now is a good time I do believe.”

“I can’t. It isn’t easy to keep that kind of anger going indefinitely and especially now that I know how it works. Can’t you try? You get angrier than me most of the time and in fact, you get downright rude.”

“When I get mad, things move around in the room. You appear to speak through people. Guess they gave us those special talents, if you can call them that.” Milly considered the situation carefully. Violet wasn’t the irate type of woman having shown that in the short time they had been together. Usually her fits of temper were provoked by something she said. Now that the spy knew how it worked, she conceded it could be difficult to keep up for a long length of time. So what could they do about that?

“That’s true I suppose. We could try that if all else fails.” Glancing around the sparsely furnished room she realised there wasn’t much to move around. Unless they spun the bed around and that would take some concentration and a level of anger she wasn’t willing to see not when she was this close up.

They both watched Charlie trying unsuccessfully to revive the detective. It was very clear to all in the room she had been drugged. Milly’s thoughts turned to one thing that perhaps would take the spy by surprise and make her mad. They had few options left and time was in even shorter supply. Taking in a deep breath she stared at Charlie then placed a hand on Violet’s arm turning her sufficiently to take her by surprise. Pulling her into a warm embrace she kissed the woman in what she thought was a tender yet passionate encounter, which to many of her old lovers, usually had the desired effect and they fell into her bed. Here she was going to be lucky if she didn’t come away without a black eye.

However, it did have the desired effect as Violet spluttered and pushed Packer away, shouting at her with such force she was sure the glass in the windows shuddered at the impact.

Angry for lots of reasons, some she didn’t even want to dwell on, Violet screamed at Packer to never touch her again. What also happened, Charlie was startled by the aggression from Pru who simultaneously shouted those very words to her.

“Whoa there, Pru I wasn’t doing anything…I would never! All I wanted was for you to wake up, I’m sorry.”

Milly congratulated herself on a job well done as she waved a hand towards Pru with an irritating smirk on her face or so Violet thought.

“Charlie, don’t be sorry. This is Violet, Violet Reed, do you remember me?”

Stunned at the question, the large woman could only gaze at the mumbling heavily glazed eyes of the detective. Oh no, not again, was she having hallucinations, this wasn’t the time or place.

“Violet, the Violet Reed who was murdered?”

“Yes that one and I have Pack…Millicent with me too. She wants you to know that she’s grateful for your help in tracking down the killers.” Milly glared at Violet. She could have said something warmer than that. It sounded so…so cold!

“Couldn’t you have…”Milly was shocked by the next words uttered from the ex-spy.

“Shut up, Packer! When I’ve finished here, you and I will speak then and only then.” The words were spoken only to her in a whisper and were not repeated by Pru.

“Is she okay? You know what I mean.” Charlie had trouble with this as anyone who considered himself or herself a straightforward practical type of person.

“Yes, she’s fine now. You need to listen to me carefully, Charlie and please, no matter how ridiculous it sounds, you have to believe me. Can you do that?”

“I can try.” Wondering what was coming next.

Relating all that they knew to Charlie, even to her ears it sounded preposterous, even though they knew it was true.

“I don’t believe that Sam Cransky is involved, he can’t be!” Charlie wasn’t surprised at Ransome or Riddle and even Gilmore’s involvement. However Sam, no, that wasn’t possible! He was always so nice and jolly, a true Countryman. They had to have that wrong.

“I’m sorry, Charlie, but he is. We don’t know where he comes in to the scheme of things. Although if you wait around much longer and don’t get Pru out of here, you might find out by being on the receiving end of whatever they have planned.”

“What have they done to her?” Charlie tenderly stroked away the stray hair that had fallen over her face. She looked so young and no one would have thought she was a private detective.

“We’re not sure. Perhaps she’s been drugged maybe they spiked her drink. All we know is that you don’t have much time, can you carry her out of here, Charlie?” Violet sensed that Charlie didn’t quite believe her and as she glanced in Packer’s direction a concerned look came over the tall woman.

“What’s wrong?” Milly gave Violet a strange stare and disappeared through the door. Damn that woman, she never just came right out and told her things.

“Will she be alright, she’s not going to die is she?” A note of desperation flooded Charlie’s voice.

“No, Charlie, not if we can help it. Now please, we need to leave this place now. I think the sooner we get to a police station the better, don’t you?”

As she answered the woman, Milly arrived back in the room. “Where did you go?”

“For drinks with the boys downstairs, where did you think I went? We need to leave now or Charlie will be found out, they’re finishing their drinks.”

“Now, Charlie, we need to go now! Pick her up and get out of here as fast as you can.”

Charlie hearing the tempo rise dramatically picked the slight detective up with ease and walked over to the door. Listening intently before she opened it she went down the back stairs.

“Damn, I should have told her to take the fire escape!” Violet admonished herself as the large woman with her precious cargo negotiated the narrow stairs leading to the small hallway she had earlier entered.

Just as she reached half way down the passageway, Ransome walked through the door from the bar intent on his criminal purpose and saw Charlie, “what the hell! Ben, get over here with that gun. We have a couple of fleeing customers,” his evil laughter ringing in the small hallway.

“Shit, what do we do now?” Violet turned to Packer, panic in her tone.

Milly had seen the potential problem, especially when he was talking about harming her ex-lover. No one did that, not while she was within earshot. Seething inside like mercury bubbling ready to explode, she did just that as the man increased his speed, which would easily have allowed him to catch up with Charlie.

Venting her anger the only way she knew how in her current appearance, Milly tilted all the barrels in front of the man toppling them over and crashing them around him causing him to trip and fall. Each time he got up to chase after Charlie and Pru, she did it again until finally the door closing behind Charlie heralded the end of Ransome’s attempt to catch up with them.

Ben Riddle, with shotgun in hand, couldn’t believe his eyes as he saw Ransome struggling with the barrels. “How did you manage to knock those over, they weigh a ton?”

With a malicious look, Ransome muttered under his breath, then shouted for the old man to shoot them down in the street. Shaking his head, Riddle declined the offer, turning back to the bar in silence.

“We’d better see where Charlie and Pru have gone.” Violet said quietly as she silently applauded Packer’s handiwork. In an odd kind of way, they had a great partnership.

“I agree.” Both ghosts gave Ransome an impertinent wave that he couldn’t see, pity really, as they walked through the wall leading to the street.

* * * * *

Charlie gasped for breath as she made for the main village street. It was only a hundred yards from the pub, but it seemed like a hundred miles as she realised how close she and Pru had come to being victims to more crime here in Snagglenook. Her heart was beating like a marching drum on parade as she ran to the first row of houses. All the lights were extinguished and she knew that everyone would be in bed. Then she remembered Mary. Yes, the barmaid might still be awake and could help them; she knew she would. She had to or Ransome would eventually catch up to them. Constable Picton’s cottage was on the outskirts of town…she’d never make it. Though how she had gotten out of the pub had been a miracle. When she had time she would reflect on that.

Wheezing at the added burden of carrying the detective, who might be of small stature, but running with what seemed like a pack of wild dogs behind her, the burden became heavier than she could ever have thought possible. No matter, she would never have left Pru behind. They were in this together and would remain so until it was all solved.

Finally arriving at Mary’s parent’s cottage, Charlie looked around. Thankfully no one was following her. She hadn’t dared look behind before and a part of her thought that her ghostly guardian angels had something to do with that fact.

Placing Pru down gently against the door, Charlie knocked on the heavy wooden door refusing to give up her pounding until a few minutes later Mary, dragging on her fleecy nightgown, opened the door. “What the heck! Charlie, what’s wrong?” her anger at being woken from just dropping off to sleep swiftly turned to concern at the breathless woman at her door and giving a curious stare at the bundle placed against the doorjamb.

“We need help, Mary.” Charlie gasped out as she bent over Pru checking that the woman was still breathing. The detective needed to be seen by a doctor.

“Of course, of course, come in, I’ll get mother.” Mary opened the door wider allowing them in as Charlie struggled through the small doorway. Glancing up into the shocked face of Mary’s parents, who, when they saw it was a familiar figure in the shape of the Manor lower farm manager, galvanised themselves into action to help.

Watching the events unfurl, Milly and Violet were relieved. It looked like a happy ending after all, no way could the police not investigate the others.  “Do you think we should go inside?”

Violet shook her head; “No, we’ll keep watch until they leave the cottage.”

“Shall we check on Riddle and his foot soldier? I hate to just wait around?” Milly knew there wasn’t much more they could do and if she were able, she would have loved to kick that stupid handsome expression off Ransome’s face. He deserved it and a great deal more.

“Haven’t you seen enough of them? I can tell you, I have for a lifetime or should I say eternity.” Why couldn’t Packer leave it be? They knew the truth and by tomorrow everything would be in the open. They hadn’t come up with concrete proof true, but there was enough superficial evidence for a preliminary investigation. That would be enough to wheedle the rats out of the dark hole they had ingratiated for themselves.

“I guess it’s that part of me that wants to make sure they are where we think they are. Might decide to run out of town and I want them to pay for what they did to us!”

Violet heard the venom in the statement, “What about all the others as well. Don’t you want them to pay for everyone they murdered?”

A red streak crossed Milly’s cheek as she considered the question, had this all been a personal vendetta? If it had, she was as guilty as they were and they had the grounds of war on their side, initially anyway. War had harsh and tragic consequences. She and Violet didn’t, not now. The war had been over long ago and theirs had been a quest for information and the truth, not outright vengeance. Could she stop herself demanding her own piece of flesh?

“Yes! Yes, of course I do, that goes without saying.” Annoyed that once more this beautiful woman had second guessed her and been right.

Compassionate eyes rested on the troubled woman, “I want them to have justice too, Packer, for all their victims and now they will, I think. We can be grateful that we saved two more from that fate. At least that must make you feel good, it certainly does me.”

“I’m going to check on them, you stay here.” Milly announced leaving Violet, who watched her go. Her whole manner was one of a person struggling with right and wrong and the latter winning.

Oh, Packer, what are we going to do with you when all this is over?

Milly was torn between her anguish over Charlie, anger at the people who had forced her death so early in her life and most of all, her inability to do anything physically about it all. What would happen now that they knew the truth? Would the authorities believe any of this? They hadn’t exactly done well at her and Violet’s inquest. It wasn’t enough, not for her to leave it to others. She had to feel that they got what was coming to them. Surely Violet wasn’t that goody two shoes that she didn’t see it that way as well! Damn the woman for having such a gentle nature even to those that hurt her. Stupid she’d called it and probably why she’d ended up dead anyway, probably trusted the wrong people! Who in their right mind would have given Ransome their car to work on, she was so gullible! Forgetting that Ransome had been the only person you could take your car to since he was the garage owner and the only one in town.

Foresight was a wonderful thing! The thought drifted as she tried to wipe out Violet’s compassionate, understanding of the situation. However, she couldn’t. The woman had a habit of getting under her skin on more than this level.

Gliding through the bricks of the pub she walked into the bar. The light had been extinguished and only the moonlight through the chinks in the curtains shed any light inside. There was no sign of Ransome, had he fled? She wasn’t sure, but she couldn’t hear anyone in the building and normally she did, it was another benefit of being in this condition. The senses were fantastic, remarkable! Where was Riddle? Had they left the sinking ship like all rats did, which wouldn’t have surprised her at all.

She saw a couple of empty glasses left on the bar counter. Yes, they’d been drinking, she had seen that earlier, nothing unusual there then she saw the shotgun on the floor of the room, why leave it there?

Moving towards the gun the bar curved as she rounded the corner, it was apparent why it was there. Ben Riddle was lying in a pool of blood, his own she surmised, as half of his head had been blown off, obviously shot at close range. Had it been suicide or murder and where was Ransome?

Standing over the man, she half expected his ectoplasm to jump out of his body to greet her; wouldn’t she have liked that. Oh yeah, she would. They would be on level pegging then and it would have given her great satisfaction to tell him she had something to do with his demise, even if it had taken twenty years.

A short time later, she had checked every nook and cranny in the building. Ransome wasn’t anywhere to be found. A thought occurred to her, what if he decided that his only hope was to shut Charlie and Pru up for good! God, she should have listened to Violet and stayed behind. Maybe one day she might do that…listen to the ex-spy.

Moving as fast as she could out of the building, she was relieved to see Violet waiting patiently beside the cottage and a police vehicle, containing the resident Constable, about to arrive at the doorstep.

Ransome didn’t stand a chance now, not that he ever had with them on the case! Her smile grew wider as she neared Violet. Strangely enough, she felt better and beamed brighter still when Violet saw her and grinned happily back!
 

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Continued in The Conclusion