Michael White - Equinox

However, I would like to add a personal addendum to the official secret record pertaining to the events described above.

It is my personal conviction (and I feel I must here reiterate that this is an expression of my personal conviction alone) that Mr Fitzgerald was not responsible for the murders under investigation.

Until the time of Mr Fitzgerald's arrest, the press had taken upon themselves the task of inciting public feeling about this case, feeling that was both emotional and volatile. They did this by creating a scapegoat in the sorry form of a young man named Nathaniel Milliner who was accused of murdering all the victims.

However, I believe this to be an entirely erroneous notion. I am convinced that the young boy in question could never have committed these horrendous acts. In each case, the female victims had internal organs removed with expert precision and there were definite, but unreadable occult overtones to all four murders. Nathaniel Milliner is an imbecile with barely the talent to hold a knife and fork at the dinner table. Indeed, my overwhelming suspicions lay entirely elsewhere, and I believe that the murders were committed by a trained and highly skilled individual, possibly a doctor or a surgeon.

After the fourth murder, when the young boy, Nathaniel Milliner, was apprehended at the scene of the killing at Forest Hill, another individual was also present at the scene and was asked to accompany myself and my officers to the Oxford Police Station for further questioning.

This individual is a very senior member of the academic community here in Oxford and so all investigations and questioning were required to be conducted with the utmost probity and attention. The individual was helpful with our enquiries, but I took it upon myself to compose detailed notes on the interview immediately after the individual was allowed to leave our custody. Within these notes I commented upon the following indisputable facts:

Stains which looked remarkably like blood were to be found on his jacket and his shirt.

When he was encountered close to the scene of the crime, the gentleman in question appeared to be in a highly agitated and anxious state, and he was apparently confused by our presence there.

When later interviewed at the station, he told us that he had travelled to Forest Hill directly from a local shoot on the land of Lord Willerby (a close friend) whose estate is indeed in the environs of Forest Hill.

Lord Willerby later confirmed this account was entirely true.

To me it seemed undeniable that the gentleman in question was behaving abnormally. Even so, having agreed to return the next day for further questioning, the gentleman was permitted to leave. This individual did not return, nor was he ever asked to return. Instead, on 10 July, the day after the fourth murder,

I was summoned to attend a private meeting with a senior officer who informed me that any further investigation into the affairs of the aforementioned gentleman must be terminated forthwith and that the gentleman was to be left in peace. I was also informed that Nathaniel Milliner should henceforth be left equally unmolested. Five days later, Mr Fitzgerald was arrested by my officers and brought to the police station for questioning.

Here ends my personal addendum.

Signed: Chief Detective Jeffrey Howard.

'Wow,' Laura exclaimed. 'Wow, indeed.'

'So Patrick Fitzgerald was nothing more than a fall guy. And the police knew it?' 'Looks like it.' 'I find that amazing.'

'You shouldn't. Remember, Laura, in 1851 the police force had only been in existence for, what? — twenty years? There have been many similar cover-ups far more recently, I can assure you.'

'And it was one hell of a cover-up,' Laura remarked. 'Neither the boy, Nathaniel Milliner, nor the labourer, Patrick Fitzgerald, had anything to do with it. It was this "gentleman", an "individual" who cannot be named.'

'What I find just as amazing is that this Chief

Detective Jeffrey Howard could be allowed to include this report,' Philip said.

'Classic case of covering one's ass,' Laura responded.

'Yes, but how could a relatively junior investigating officer be allowed to point the finger, however subtly it was done?'

'He must have added this long after the event. Look.' She flicked back. 'It's dated January 1854. Maybe Howard was about to leave the force, or the files were being moved and he knew that no one would be interested in looking at them, until perhaps, one day. .'

'That has to be it,' Philip replied. 'There's no way Howard could have made his feelings known at the time — he would have been booted out. . at the very least.'

'The guy found at the scene of the Forest Hill murder was obviously someone important, someone with amazing contacts.'

'I would have thought it's pretty obvious who that was.'

'Nathaniel's father?'

'Our eminent Professor of Medicine, John Milliner.'

'Howard almost says as much in the last line, doesn't he?' Laura responded. 'What did he write?' She flicked back through the text once more: 'Here it is: "The gentleman should be left in peace. I was also informed that Nathaniel Milliner should henceforth be left equally unmolested.'"

'So, what have we got here?' Philip said. 'These murders were almost identical to the recent ones — similar mutilations, similar metal coins — and the whole thing was a cover-up: the killings were almost certainly committed by Milliner, an important member of the university, someone with friends in very high places. There's also the fact that the university was the real power-broker in Oxford in 1851. The authorities would have done everything possible to keep the truth quiet. They would have closed ranks, and they would have set up someone they viewed as insignificant trash. So they framed a penniless Irish navvy who had a record. Fitzgerald was just perfect. Poor bastard. Of course, the real clincher will be if we put the exact dates of these murders into almanac.com

and find they match with the removed organs and the type of coins found at each scene.'

'It would, but we don't have with us the passwords that Tom gave us, so that'll have to wait until we get back to Oxford,' Laura replied. 'Let's go see what Charlie has to say.'

The worst of the traffic was around Kew itself. Mothers in four-wheel drives on the school run had no qualms about cutting across lanes, and sales reps racing back to their admin centres to clock off early added their own hazards.

Philip had taken over the driving. 'Getting around this place is like playing fucking Space Invaders,' he complained as a young woman in a Grand Cherokee jeep suddenly appeared out of a side street. 'God, and isn't that just typical?' he yelled, slamming his hand down on the horn. 'Look at that on her bloody rear window — Baby On Board!'

By the time they reached the Westway they had started to make good time, until they crossed over the Baker Street intersection where they got snarled up again. It was almost four-thirty as they turned along Museum Street.

Philip indicated right and was just turning into the narrow street when an ambulance emerged and blocked their way. Philip reversed out quickly and

the ambulance sped off in the direction of Tottenham Court Road. Pulling into the lane the first thing they saw were flashing blue lights.

Laura dashed out of the car even before Philip had put on the handbrake. A police car stood directly outside the White Stag bookshop and next to it was a small blue van. A man in a white plastic oversuit was sliding into the driver's seat of the van and another was already seated inside. A uniformed officer stood at the door to the shop, and as Laura ran up two plain-clothes officers emerged.