The Puppet ( Part 2)

Steve Miller poured himself another whiskey and stared at the photo in front of him. His beloved Linda and him on holiday in Greece in 2012. She looked so happy that day.

It wasn’t a big funeral. He and Linda had no children and both sets of parents were long gone. Just him, some friends and neighbours and a few work colleagues.

According to the inquest, Linda had died of a heart attack. She was fifty seven. Only Steve Miller knew the truth.

He’d called her just seconds after it happened. She was at home with her close friend Sue. They’d been talking and then in mid- sentence, according to Sue, she just fell down. She was dead before she hit the floor. Sue panicked, didn’t know what to do, she could hear a phone ringing but couldn’t find out where it was coming from. It was Linda’s phone. It was in her handbag. Sue rang for an ambulance and just stood there looking at Linda for a full six minutes while she waited for the ambulance to arrive. She was in shock. She said later that she could hear Linda’s phone continually ringing but for some reason she felt unable to move. The doctors told her that shock can do that to a person.

That was almost a year ago. He’d been on compassionate leave ever since. Today a senior policeman from the Welfare department was coming to see him to talk about early retirement.

The knock on the front door brought him back from his thoughts. He looked at the clock. Damn, it was already two o’clock. He should have been showered and dressed by now, instead he was still in his dressing gown drinking his fifth large whisky of the day. He shuffled along the hallway in his slippers and opened the door. Before him stood Superintendent John Simmons. In full Police Uniform.

“Hi Steve, good to see you. Can I come in?”

“Yeh, yeh, sure. Sorry about the dressing gown. Can’t seem to get going these days. Come through into the front room.”

John Simmons took off his hat and followed Steve into the front room. He couldn’t believe that this was the same man, who less than a year ago, was one of the best D.I.’s in Special Branch. Today he looked like a broken man. Dirty, unshaven, stunk of alcohol and looked seventy rather than just fifty five years old.

“Drink, John?”

Steve held up a bottle of Bells Whiskey and shook it gently.

“Not for me thanks Steve. I’m driving and have to get back for a meeting this afternoon, so best not, thanks anyway.”

Steve shrugged his shoulders and re-filled his own glass. It never occurred to him to offer his superior anything else. He sat down opposite John.

“So you’ve come to discuss early retirement John?”

“No not me Steve. That’ll be Welfare. Sorry H.R. as we call them now. They’re coming next week I understand. I’m here about something else.”

Steve was slightly confused. He’d obviously got his wires crossed somehow. The weeks seemed to roll into one these days.

“Oh Okay John. What’s today about then?”

“Paul Merriman.”

Steve heard the words and swallowed his full glass of whiskey down in one gulp. He suddenly felt uncomfortable. His left hand started to shake and he could feel his temperature start to rise. Sweat started to form on his forehead.

“You Okay Steve. You look a bit flustered.”

“Fine, fine, just a long time since I’ve heard that name mentioned that’s all.”

He stood up, walked over to the cabinet and poured another whiskey.

“You knew more about him than anyone else in Special Branch Steve. You compiled the file on him that linked him to numerous offences that we could never prove, yet we were all sure he had something to do with. You were interviewing him when…”

John paused.

“When Linda passed.”

Steve remained silent. He stood with his back to John Simmons and looked out through his patio doors into his once well- kept garden. Now a wilderness.

“Can you tell me what happened that day Steve. What you and Merriman talked about? I looked at the CCTV the other day. Merriman said something to you as he left and made some sort of gesture with his right hand above his head. What was all that about Steve? Can you tell me, can you remember?”

Steve continued to stare out into the garden. He spoke very quietly.

“It was a long time ago. It was just banter. Nothing to worry about.”

“Well it looked like more than banter to me Steve. You were obviously upset by it because you ran off and called…Linda. Now why would you do that Steve? What did Merriman say that made you want to call Linda that urgently?”

This time Steve’s voice became louder and slightly angry.

“I told you it was nothing. Now leave it please John.”

“Sorry Steve, I can’t do that. You see we think that Paul Merriman may have been up to his old tricks again. Two girls in three days. Both prostitutes, both from East London. Both found in disused railway arches. And here’s the worst bit. Both of them cut open and plastic dolls stuffed inside them. Both hung from the ceiling by wires. Wires attached to their arms, legs and neck. Just hanging there. Like puppets!”

John Simmons emphasized the word PUPPETS.

Steve turned round. Tears rolling down his face.

“You’ve got to leave it John. I’m begging you. Leave Merriman alone. He’s, he’s…the master.”