Necklace of Death: A Johnny Paradise Mystery

By Maurice P Gaynor

This book tells the story of Johnny Paradise, who is living on a derelict barge in the Thames Estuary after being suspended from the Met Police. Johnny drowns his sorrows in drinking at the local pub called the Drunken Man, until he is visited by an old friend who brings him news about his daughter. The story leads to a series of killings as the gangs of East London try to silence him as he attempts to solve the mystery of the Necklace of Death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jan 11, 2018
• ISBN: 9781546285632

Maurice P Gaynor

Maurice Gaynor, born in India just before WW2, came to England in 1955 and settled in London, where he worked on British Rail while he pursued his hobbies as a writer and photographer with moderate success. A play for TV, at a time when television was in its infancy in black and white, about a London detective won a prize of a 100 but was never produced, so he went into building and decorating as more lucrative. He continued writing at night and wrote books for children, and thrillers; also books of poetry.

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© 2018 Maurice P. Gaynor. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 12/18/2017

ISBN: 978-1-5462-8564-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5462-8563-2 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

FROM NEWSPAPER CUTTINGS

THE SOUTH LONDON NEWS

Saturday 25 Oct

Top Met Officer Is Suspended

By Walt Matterson and Sue Bradley

ONE OF THE Metropolitan Police’s high ranking officers from an ethnic background, who was on a promotion fast track, was suspended over criminal allegations today. He was accused of taking bribes from a suspect character in Soho.

Det. Inspector John Paradise (42), (formerly known as John Para) who had previously worked on the drug squad and recently on the multi-million-pound bullion robbery from Heathrow, was singled out as one of Scotland Yard’s most talented young officers. A Scotland Yard statement said: DS. John Paradise, from the Borough of Hackney was suspended from duty today on a significant number of counts of misconduct. This follows information received relating to a range of disciplinary and criminal issues.

THE DAILY NEWS

Friday 15 Jan

Digging for Brink’s Mat gold

by Doug Rayne

Flying Squad detectives swooped on a village in Kent yesterday in the hunt for £26 million of missing gold from the famous 1983 Brinks Mat raid. Detectives were acting on a tip-off following months of investigation.

M25 road rage killer Kenneth Moyes got 14 years for handling some of the gold. Two other men were jailed over the robbery - the biggest haul of gold ever stolen in Britain. Most of the bullion has never been found.

Outwardly performing all actions but inwardly renouncing their fruits, the wise man, purified by the fire of transcendental knowledge, attains peace, detachment, forbearance, spiritual vision and bliss. From the BHAGAVAD-GITA (AS IT IS)

PREFACE

The view over the broad expanse of the Thames was black and ominous. Gusts of wind were already sweeping up the coast from the Channel, rippling the waters into a frenzy, with the mud rising to the surface in a dull brown froth.

The tide swept inland, threatening to engulf the low-lying farmlands, until it hit the Thames Barrier that protects the great city of London. It thundered with giant fists beating at the door until it fell back like a subdued monster that had met its match. The water in the estuary rose six feet in the half hour that I had been watching with a slight feeling of trepidation, from the deck of the Marianne, wondering if the old iron hulk of rusting metal would stand up to the pounding.

The flat bottomed ancient barge had long since been abandoned to its solitary existence in the secluded backwater, no longer needed in the world of fast moving juggernauts. It had been my home for the past six months. The small inlet had become a graveyard for derelict and abandoned barges that were slowly rusting away after having been stripped of all the usable parts. Only the Marianne was left which showed any sign of life, with the occasional wisp of smoke from the chimney that protruded from the tar covered roof, and a light that gleamed in the small windows that adorned the side of the boat.

I looked around, wondering if I would have to make a run for it if the river broke the banks and the barge tore away from its moorings. Already the water was lapping at the edges near to the top. As I calmly surveyed this last refuge, the thought of returning to the concrete jungle of the city was enough to send a shiver through my spine. They would know where to find me and they would finish it this time. I didn’t know if I was ready yet. Perhaps the mind had recovered, but it would need time to whet the sharp edge of the body.

That night the water subsided, but sleep came uneasily.

It was some weeks after that when my karma took a turn for the worse. It was bound to happen. I had been expecting it. But not the way it came.

CHAPTER ONE

It was around the middle of September, when the days were beginning to draw in and it was starting to get cold.

A sharp wind was blowing through the open window on the opposite side of the cabin. I shivered and was suddenly awake. I knew it wasn’t just the cold air but something else that had roused me from my slumber.

Last night’s bout with the bottle had left a stale taste in my mouth, but the fresh air had cleared the fog from my brain. As usual it was late. From habit, I realised that the time was probably approaching mid-day. I lay there listening to the faint sounds of the curlews and the peeps of the sandpipers as they flittered over the sand outside searching for crabs from the early morning. It was punctuated by the sharp cry of seagulls as they swept overhead heading for the open estuary of the Thames and the broad expanse of the Channel. From somewhere far away came the melancholy call of a tugboat’s siren, but it was all in the distance, the normal sounds that I had got used to during the six months that I had been secluded there on the ‘Marianne’.

Then I heard the light step on the bare planking of the gangway that was lashed to the side of the handrail and felt the boat rock slightly as if someone had stepped down onto the deck. In one swift movement, I had swung my legs over the side of the bunk and reached the drawer just under the sink by the window. Even as I dragged it open I could hear the footsteps coming down the short flight of steps that led to the cabin door, and I knew that I might be too late.

Frantically my hand groped around feeling under the jumble of cloth and papers as I searched for the gun that should have been there. Whoever was outside wasn’t going to wait once they had heard me lumbering about and forgetting the need for stealth I pulled at the drawer that had stuck halfway. Then my hand closed on the cold steel of the gun and I was crouching down beside the cabin door with the weapon raised to use it like a club if I had to. My thumb pushed the safety catch forward as my finger curled around the trigger. I held my breath.

I must have waited like that for seconds, though it seemed more like minutes, poised ready to strike, wondering how they had managed to find me. Whoever it was must have heard me and was trying to make up his mind how to take me, but at least I was prepared and it wasn’t going to be easy.

There was a sound at the door and it swung open slowly.

Johnny! A woman’s voice called softly. Are you awake?

I let out my breath in a long sigh of relief as I tried to unwind. The thought in my mind, if it materialised, would send me up for life, but inwardly I was glad that it hadn’t turned out as I expected. Quickly I hid the gun in the cupboard drawer and then pulled open the door of the cabin. The figure of the woman standing there with the sunlight making a halo of her bright highlighted hair was enough to make me forget all thoughts of murder and GBH, but perhaps my dishevelled appearance, standing there in only my shorts and singlet, or the fierce look that must have been still stamped on my face startled her, because she stood staring at me as if she was looking at a stranger.

For God’s sake, Stella, I exploded. What the hell are you doing creeping around like that? Then I felt sorry for her, as it wasn’t really her fault. You better come inside before I freeze to death.

Now there’s a fine warm welcome for a friend, she said in her lilting Dublin tones. After all the trouble, I’ve taken to find this god forsaken hell-hole. You might as well be living on the moon.

She swept past me with hardly a second glance, and then typical of a woman immediately began to take stock of the contents of the living space with the practiced eye of a health inspector. There wasn’t much I could do to hide the pile of dirty plates in the sink, or even the soiled clothes thrown into a heap in the corner, so I let her get on with it. It didn’t surprise me to see the look of horror on her face, but at least she had the grace not to say anything.

So, this is where you’ve been hiding yourself, was all she said when she had recovered. She just wrinkled up her nose. Her red and green dress was like a splash of colour that brightened up the dull interior, and for the first time I realized how drab everything was.

You should have told me you were coming, I managed as a feeble excuse. At least I would have cleaned up a bit. It’s not always like this.

It looks as if it’s been hit by a bomb. How long have you been living in this pile of junk?

Well, I had a lot of work to do on the structure first, I tried to explain. Some of the timbers were a bit rotten and the roof leaks, but it’s not so bad. I’m working on it, and I’ll get it right eventually.

She didn’t seem all that impressed. And all this time I thought you had a nice little cottage by the sea, or at least one of those mobile homes on the Dog’s island or whatever they call it. What made you buy a hulk like this in the first place, Johnny? You know you could have moved in with me, until you found somewhere decent to live.

Yeah, I know that. It wasn’t easy to explain, why I had to be on my own. After all that trouble with Big Max, I just had to get away. Working on this pile of junk as you call it, gave me time to think.

It had only been six months, though it seemed like years ago, that I had been dismissed from the Force when I was accused of taking bribes. I knew I had been stitched up, only I couldn’t prove it. For the time being I needed to be on my own, and to get my mind functioning again. This quiet inlet was ideal for me. The bottom of the depression in the black muddy sand was covered with rocks so that the sailing boats kept clear of it.

At one time, it had become a graveyard for the old flat-bottomed barges that used to ply up and down the coast from Newcastle and Hull, bringing coal and timber to London.

When they were no longer needed they had been broken up for scrap. My boat was the last survivor that had been converted into a floating home for the workers. Now I was the sole inhabitant. That part of the land was almost deserted and barren. Like some forgotten stretch on some distant colony, fit only for sewage farms and depots where the rubbish of the city was sorted and disposed of out of sight of the tender eyes of the nouveau riche of modern society. My nearest neighbour was a grumpy old Scotsman who owned the pub on the main road. Even now, it was difficult to comprehend what a stroke of good fortune had come my way on meeting Jock McFarlane, who gave me a place to stay. Apart from him and his son Hamish, nobody knew of my existence and it suited me fine. I must have told Stella before fleeing from the city, just in case I needed someone to pick up my remains if I pegged it, but I never thought she would go to the trouble of coming all this way out here to find me.

But now that she was here, I was glad in a way. It would be nice to have some company for a change, and Stella knew how to keep her mouth shut. I must have made a lot of enemies when I was with the Police and certain people would love to put me away for good.

She had put down her carrier bag and dropped her red handbag on the table. Then she kicked off her shoes as she sat down on the only chair.

My feet are killing me, she said as she began to rub her shapely legs. I don’t suppose my shoes were meant for tramping around a wilderness. And just look at the state of my tights. You’ll have to buy me another pair when I get back to civilization, Johnny Para or Paradise, whatever you call yourself these days. That’s if I ever get back. I had a terrible job finding this place. It’s miles away from anything.

That’s when I knew the golden silence was shattered. There’s a pub just on the main road, I said. You must have passed it.

Trust you to find a place where there’s a pub within walking distance,

It supplies me with food and drink. I have shelter. What more can a man want, - except one thing, I suggested.

She laughed. There can’t be much social life around here. You might as well dig a hole and bury yourself. It was the same old Stella, laughing and moaning at the same time.

I was sitting on the bunk watching her when she began to walk around the cabin peering into the various cupboards with a woman’s curiosity; only she kept wiping her finger along the top of the furniture and wrinkling up her nose. I couldn’t help noticing how her backside wiggled as she walked. It was a feast for my hungry eyes. I felt like a schoolboy in a tuck shop with no money to spend.

Well, aren’t you glad to see me, she said, when she had finished her inspection.

Yes, of course I am, though you did give me a bit of a surprise. You were the last person I would expect to drop in on me. A few other old acquaintances would like to call, but I haven’t been too lavish in handing out a forwarding address. You haven’t told anyone, have you?

No, of course not. I wouldn’t do a thing like that without asking you. But I was worried about you, Johnny. What else did you expect when you just dropped out of sight?

She had come around full circle, though in that confined space it didn’t take a great deal of time to accomplish, and I stood up suddenly so that she bumped into me.

So, aren’t you going to wish me? I volunteered hopefully.

Why - is it your birthday, or something? she asked, looking coy. But she couldn’t keep it up for long. She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me. I’m only teasing, Johnny. You know I love you. So, I kissed her again, long and hard, until she was breathless. I know you’ve been having a hard time recently, Johnny, she said, when she came up for air. But that’s no excuse for you to become a hermit. I’ll have to see what I can do about that.

Depends on what you have in mind, I told her. Putting my arms around her I drew her closer to me. I could feel some of the joys that I had been missing. She certainly had all the necessary attributes to bring a lot of pleasure into my life after the loneliness of the past few months. But she also had a lousy sense of timing and slipped out of my grasp before I could get started.

But not now, Johnny, she protested, and her laughter bubbled up when she saw the look on my face. She rubbed the stubble on my chin. You go and get cleaned up, while I make myself useful around here. Then I’ll make us up something to eat - I’ve brought a few things from the shops. I don’t suppose you’ve had a decent meal for days.

Look, Stella! I managed to say as she began pushing me towards the door. I hope you haven’t come here to start mothering me.

She burst out laughing. Not bloody likely. I have something much better in mind for you, but we’ll have to leave the celebrating until later. Then she grew serious. I also have something to tell you. It’s about your daughter, Sarah. I found out about her, like you asked me to…. But I’ll tell you about that later, when I’ve had time to think. Then you can decide what you want to do.

I knew there was no use trying to rush her, so I left her alone. The rest of the day I just enjoyed her company, and she seemed to revel in the task of settling and getting the place into some sort of order. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a lot cleaner than it had been for months. At least I could see the bottom of the sink, and I’m sure if she had more time she would have put curtains in the windows.

That afternoon while Stella was occupied, I spent my time sealing off the roof to stop the rain from getting through. It was nice to have a woman around again, and I wondered if I had been alone for too long, ever since my wife had died, and that was ten years ago.

My daughter Sarah had been sixteen at the time. She had just left school to start work and I must have thought she was strong enough to stand on her own two feet. It is only afterwards that I realised how her mother’s death must have affected her. In my own grief, I couldn’t have been much comfort to her. Then we had drifted apart, and I was absorbed in police work and promotion. I was friendly with Big Max at the time, but that was before he started to climb the ladder, even though he was not much older than I was.

From time to time I had news of Sarah. She was leading an active life. She was always fond of adventure and travel. After she was twenty-one she even took flying lessons with a small Flying Club in Kent. I went to see her when she had graduated. It had been some time since I had last seen her. She was pretty, like her mother, with dark eastern eyes, a part of her heritage which had that sparkle that comes from the joy of living life to its fullest, and all that framed in lush blonde hair that was like living gold. She had a way of looking that could make any man want to do anything to please her.

I don’t like flying, but I wanted to make it up to her and to be more like a father, so I foolishly allowed her to take me up for ride. It nearly frightened the life out of me when she shouted ‘Tally-Ho! Here we go!’ and did a loop. I could feel my stomach rise into my throat and the world was spinning around. It was a good thing I was strapped in or I would have fallen out, but I had never forgotten that. For some time after that it became her kind of private battle cry between us whenever we met, which wasn’t very often, because after a while we had drifted apart. That’s how it was between us. She had her own life to lead, and I had mine.

After that, I don’t know what went wrong. I had been working on the inquiries into the bullion robbery at Heathrow. Just routine stuff, but I thought I was on to something. Suddenly I was accused of taking bribes. They made a good job of it, and Maximilian Kennard-Jones, better known as Big Max was in charge of the investigation. He even had photographs of me and Chancy White with a bundle of notes in his hand.

I was brought before the disciplinary committee, but I didn’t have a chance. After that Chancy White disappeared, and I couldn’t prove that it was faked. It was Stella who kept me sane. Stopped me from sinking into a black abyss where thoughts and actions become irrational. That was before I came to live on the barge where I found peace, like a sequestered nun in search of tranquillity. Now Stella was back helping me again. Maybe I would ask her to stay this time but with Stella you never know. She was like a free spirit. She could pack her bags and leave tomorrow. Perhaps if I offered her roots she might think differently.

All I knew was that we were two of a kind, and that we should stick together. That’s why I felt like celebrating or more likely to give me the courage to ask her to come and live with me, and we spent the whole evening at the pub. It was only when we returned to the barge, that she told me about Sarah.

Did I tell you, I saw Sarah only last week, she said quite casually. She had kicked off her shoes and was sprawled out on the bunk by the window. I had brought a half bottle of whiskey from the pub and was searching in the cupboard for some glasses.

You haven’t told me anything yet, I replied, as I hurriedly opened the bottle and began to pour the liquor. My hand was shaking, which was a bit stupid, so I took my time.

So? At least she’s still around, I went on casually. I’m glad to hear that. I know I should have made more of an effort, but I didn’t know how to get in touch with her. She must have moved from her last address. So, how is she?

I put the glasses down on the table by the bunk, trying not to look too anxious, but it has been in the back of my mind all day.

Yeah! She’s doing all right. But then, I only saw her for a few minutes. She was with a fella. She looked absolutely fantastic.

Did you speak to her?

Well, it wasn’t the ideal place to stop and have a long natter. There was this big do on at the Savoy, and I just happened to be passing, and there she was, getting out of a big limo. You should have seen her, Johnny. She looked like a princess. I hardly recognized her. She had on this beautiful evening dress, with a white fur jacket over her shoulders. That’s when she saw me and she stopped, so I went over to have a word with her. You should have seen her, Johnny; the dress she had on must have been a designer model, and the necklace she was wearing. It was fantastic. It looked as if she was covered in jewels. She really looked beautiful. You would have been proud of her, Johnny.

I felt