The London Murders: The Plot Thickens

And then Jace woke up. What a horrible nightmare! But it was no nightmare- there was still the incessant banging on the door, and Davis Nolder’s irritating voice.
“Sir! Sir! Mr. Jace Buntley, Sir! You’ve got to get up! There’s been another murder! We’ve got to get to the central office, right away!”
Jace groaned and shifted in the bed. He checked his watch – 12:05 AM, Tuesday morning. Six hours since he arrived in London; one since he went to bed.
“Mr. Buntley sir? Are you there!?”
“All right, shut up already! Give me five minutes.”
“Yes sir! I’ll be waitin’ outside with the coach!”
Jace heard Nolder’s footsteps grow faint. He groaned again, louder, and stretched to his feet. Still slightly buzzing from the London whiskey, he was glad he hadn’t had enough to get drunk. Only 1 quart this time. He dressed quickly and threw on his trenchcoat. He didn’t need to strap on his shoulder-holstered Beretta.
He hadn’t taken it off.

Davis met him at the street, fairly hopping with excitement. Jace observed the 6’4”, rail-thin coachmen with slight amusement, and wondered where he got his energy. Davis hustled him into the coach.
“Right this way, sir! Right this way! You wouldn’t believe it, you just wouldn’t! Not again, not so soon after the last one! Bloody mess, from what I heard! Not one limb left connected! Bloody, bloody mess it was!”
Jace kept silent as Davis rambled on, shutting the coach door and climbing to the driver’s seat. As the reigns snapped and they began moving, Jace could still hear Davis muttering to himself.
“Right shame it was, too. Beautiful girls from what I ‘eard. Beautiful. Runners they were, visiting from France. Never return back, they sure won’t. Never return. Right shame.”
Jace nodded silently to himself in the coach. He had suspected this from the beginning, and Nolder’s last statement only confirmed it. He knew exactly where the killer would strike next, and he knew when. But he didn’t know why…

Dr. Welch met him in the coach outside London’s downtown police station, and climbed aboard along with two Police Officers.
“Pardon the circumstances surrounding our introduction, Mr Buntley! It is a great honor to meet you! I only wish it were under more pleasant arrangements.” The director of Great Britain’s most prestigious investigative school grasped hands firmly with Jace, and the detective helped him aboard. The two Officers followed suit.
“Mr. Buntley, this is Chief of Police Joe Mason, and Deputy Chief Anthony Hudson. They will accompany us to the crime scene.”
“So we’re going straight there.” Jace stated. That was fine with him. The sooner they got cracking on this case, the better.
“Not quite.” Said Dr. Welch “We will actually be stopping by Scotland Yard’s south London branch first.”
Officers Mace and Tony sat silently in their seats.
Jace didn’t move.


*****************

As Jace followed Dr. Welch down the hallway of Scotland Yard’s South London branch, he tried to keep his pulse from rising.
He did not succeed.
His heart pounded in his chest, and he could feel the blood coursing through his veins. He was angry that he felt this way; angry that he could not control his emotions. He wanted to be angry that he was about to see her again… but he wasn’t.
Sudden voices brought Jace out of his reflections. Unconsciously, he had slowed in the hallway. Dr. Welch was already inside the S4 office.
“Wake that man up!” Jace heard Dr. Welch order.
This was soon followed by several terrific shouts, and the sharp cry of a woman.

That voice.

That voice sent a galvanized shock through Jace Buntley’s entire body. That voice sent at once a thousand memories flooding back into his head, and a thousand emotions through his veins. Jace Buntley, American Detective, top crime detective in the entire State of New York, was afraid. His hands shook and his mouth went dry. He didn’t want to take another step.

He walked through the door.

Kevson’s cry and subsequent flailing appendages startled Niles and knocked him off balance. Niles bumped into Rosie who spilled her coffee onto her lap. Rosie cried aloud and dropped her coffee mug on the floor with a clatter. Jace walked casually through the door and observed the scene.

“Mr. Buntley, this is Rosie Tracer, our top detective at Scotland Yard.” Dr. Welch never missed a beat when it came to formalities. He was also quite adept at ignoring even the most embarrassing of social mishaps.
“Rosie, this is Mr. Jace Buntley, American detective and top crime investigator in New York City.”
Rosie couldn’t speak. She managed to barely nod her head.
“We’ve met before, Doctor.” Jace said abruptly.
“But of course you have!” replied Dr. Welch. “Of course you have. Although I do not believe you have made the acquaintance of Detectives Kevson and Niles…?”
Dr. Welch cast his gaze in the direction of the recovering detectives, and folded his hands. He glared at them with a look implied absolute buffoonery. Kevson and Niles shifted uncomfortably, looking for all the world like two school boys caught playing hooky. There was certainly nothing at the moment to suggest that besides Rosie, they were the best two detectives in Scotland Yard.
“Uhhhhh, hello Mr. Buntley. I’m Detective Kevson.” He reached forward and shook hands firmly with the American. Niles followed suit. “Detective Niles, at your service!”
Jace didn’t reply but instead walked straight up to a map of London pinned against the wall. The locations of the murders were noted in ink. “Get a world map.” Was all he said.
The detectives in the room looked at each other. Rosie looked down with a crooked smile. Jace had never been one for formalities.
Jace turned around to face Kevson and Niles. He carefully avoided looking towards Rosie.
“If you want to solve this case, get me a world map”
Kevson looked over at Detective Tracer, who stared him down before he could even ask the question.
“I’ll be right back!” he said, and disappeared out the door. Dr. Welch looked quizzically in Jace’s direction.
“Mr. Buntley, I hope this will not take long. Indeed, we shall review the facts of the previous murders, but there is a fresh crime scene requiring our attention! Chiefs Mason and Hudson are already on their way, and their officers have no doubt prepared the scene for our arrival…”
“I assure you, Doctor, that this will not take long, and that it will, indeed, prove to be very relevant to the facts we shall undoubtedly discover at the crime scene. I thank you in advance for your cooperation, and for that of your team. It is my pleasure to work with the finest detectives in England.” He nodded in the direction of Dr. Welch, and returned to studying the map.
Dr. Welch harrumphed and clasped his hands behind his back. His mouth curved in a very faint, very satisfied smile.
Rosie bit her lip and closed her eyes. Jace had just bought himself the entire night, if he wanted it. Her face and hands grew flushed. She both hated and loved it when Jace did this.

Kevson strode back into the room moments later, a world map loosely rolled in his hands. “How did you find that so fast?” Niles asked.
“I’m psychic.”
Rosie bit her lip again. This was a bad night for her lips.
“Spread it out on the table” Jace ordered.
Once done so, he circled the countries of the murder victims.
“What do you see?” He asked.
Kevson spoke up. “I see a perfectly good world map with four circles on it.”
Niles jabbed him in the ribs, saving Rosie the trouble.
“I see a pattern.” Niles said.
“Of what.” Jace.
“Foreigners!” Said Kevson. “He’s a xenophobe. He’s a misguided freak trying to do England a favor.”
“No.” Said Rosie. “It’s a clock.” She was irritated she hadn’t noticed this sooner.
Jace looked at her for the first time since they had been introduced by Dr. Welch. No one else noticed, but she knew he was pleased.
“Yes” he said “A clock.”
“What the heck?” Kevson.
“Bloody hell!” Dr. Welch.
“Bugger me! I get it!” Niles.
Jace went into action.
“Germany is One O’clock. It’s the start, the beginning. The killer strikes at one. Switzerland is Three O’Clock. Italy Five. France is now Seven.
Dr. Welch interrupted. “How did you know the next victims were from France?!”
Jace didn’t bother to look up. He also didn’t bother to reveal his source of information.
“Word travels fast in London.”
“Wait” said Kevson “Why are they all odd numbers?”
“Because” said Rosie, but before she could finish, Niles interrupted.
“Well I’m pissed if Ireland isn’t number nine!”
“And guess who’s after that?” Jace.
“Iceland, at 11 O’clock?” Niles.
“No” Rosie spoke again, and her blood went cold.
Jace looked at her again, and nodded his head.
“Scotland, at 12.” Rosie finished.
“Son-of-a-gyspie mongrel!” Kevson was losing his patience “What’s up with all the bloody O’clocks?! One o’clock, three o’clock, how can you tell!?”
Jace looked at Dr. Welch. “We’ve spent enough time here already.” He said.
Dr. Welch nodded his head in agreement. “Indeed, we have spent enough time here, Mr. Buntley. But it was indeed time well spent! In just a few short hours, you have proven your worth and then some.” He paused briefly “As expected, of course! We shall now proceed to the crime scene.” He looked directly at Kevson. “Detective Tracer can explain fully there.”
They rose from the table and headed out the door.

Somehow, Jace and Rosie ended up next to each other. They stared rigidly ahead, though the entirety of their attention was focused on their peripheral vision. Both minds whirled, as much from the suddenness of their reunion as with the new details of the case. Despite Jace’s insight, so many questions were left unanswered… why were the girls all Catholic? Why did the killer target only females? Rosie shuddered at the thought that yet more murders would occur before this case could be solved.
The clock pattern. It made perfect sense. She would explain it all to Kevson at the crime scene, in details so thorough even a buffoon could understand. But also, she wondered what they would find at the crime scene… what gruesome details she would have to describe… what sickening information she would surely be able to reveal about the killer himself…

Meanwhile, Jace was wondering why he was always such a jerk when it came to Rosie.