Stone Dead

By Terry Perkins

A young girl is brutally raped and murdered in a small seaside town. There is no evidence of her attacker and a possible 2400 suspects. This true incident provided the background for this fictional story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: May 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9781665598514

Terry Perkins

Born and raised in the West Country from the last half of the 20th century. A family man with a love of sport and sailing intertwined with an engineering background.

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© 2022 Terry Perkins. 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 05/13/2022

ISBN: 978-1-6655-9852-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-9851-4 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

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links contained in this book may have changed since publication and

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of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher,

and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Prologue

Sheila Stone

Lady Jane

The Murder

Innocents

The Postman

Discovery

The Team

The Parents

Making a Start

The Garrison

Day 1

The Reporter

The Boyfriend

Local culture

Day 2

Day 3

Brian and the teenager

Day 4

Day 5

Fowey

Alibis

4 Weeks

Arrested

RSM Pardoe

John Bryant

Crissie

Lovers

Release

Deflated

Closing in

Interment

Talby

The Trial

Life After September 1969

Epilogue

PROLOGUE

Her body lay in a slimy rockpool exposed by the ebbing waters of the Bristol Channel. It had entered the food chain for a flock of wheeling and screaming gulls. There was no doubt of the identity of the victim. Sheila Stone is dead. A young woman brutally raped and murdered in a rural town in the West Country. Names and dates have been changed to protect identities. The truth may be revealed in 2064. Until then the rest is pure fiction

This harbour town, nestling at the foot of the Brendon Hills on the Bristol Channel coast, boasts a population of two thousand.

In the eighteenth century it was an industrial town benefiting from the transport of iron ore, mined from the surrounding hills that meandered on a single track to the harbour where it was shipped to the Steel works in South Wales and sometime foreign destinations, or loaded onto railway trucks for national distribution.

The harbour encompasses an area of some four acres with East and West piers protruding some two hundred yards into the sea. These overlapping piers comfort the commercial and private enjoyment of the many small craft tethered landward and to both piers. On the landward side the piers are spanned by an esplanade encircled by the town businesses with radiating residential accommodation. From the East pier the land rises sharply for eighty feet before levelling to a grassy terrain extending a half mile along the coast known to locals as the Rec. The area had been bisected by the railway in 1860 with a deep cutting and has a connecting bridge at the east end onto the second area later to be known as the Memorial ground or Mem used by the local football and cricket teams.

In the 1900’s the iron ore was depleted but the town and the harbour still prospered from the logistical requirements of the local Paper Mill and new industrial markets.

Almost all of the adult population worked in the mill or its associated business. There was full employment for the people of the town. Within days of leaving school the fresh new employees would be exposed to the challenges of adult life. They would start on menial tasks and progress after assessment to craft apprenticeships or office environments. The mill would take care of its own as it had for the previous hundred years. It was, to all intents and purposes, a closed society, cocooned from the rest of the world. Few people had transport and public services were limited. It was an active community socially and new adults would find themselves working with the people they went to school with and parents still wielding control. Consequently this was a town of secrets that everyone, except the ones affected, shared.

The scene is set for one of the most fascinating murder investigation of the time.

SHEILA STONE

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It is September 1959

The war years are over and its babies are approaching their watershed of fifteen years old. The frustrations of their early teens are put to one side in the rush for adulthood. In their later days at school they were all too aware of the physical changes taking place in their bodies and longing to realise new relationships with the opposite sex. With little else to do it was not surprising that in rural communities sexual exploration was a feature of early teenage years.

At the age of fifteen years school was finished for most and once that watershed had been reached there was a new raison d’être. Comics were binned and bikes were not toys but transport to work. With money in their pockets the boys would grease and comb their hair whilst the girls would apply make-up to imitate their favourite film stars. A few shillings a week in a clothing catalogue would see them mimicking the screen and radio icons they longed to be as they searched for the passion they unquestionably desired.

For the young lads the dream however was broken in the late fifties when the town was nominated as a garrison town. In the war an anti-aircraft battery had operated from the eastern boundaries of the town manned by an RAF regiment but was soon redundant in peacetime. It was an easy choice to house the over flowing numbers of military personnel returning from overseas. The teenage male population was trebled as six hundred fit and healthy young men moved to a permanent camp on the outskirts of the town. Overnight the local pubs and cafes were thriving. Public services expanded to cater for the influx and business was booming. But for the young men of the town this was a devastating blow. The more handsome of them would be in contention for the love of the local girls but the uniform and the novelty of the army would ultimately secure attention. For most young girls the attention they received was more than welcome. They could pick and choose at random, enticing and discarding their suitors at will. Some of them would live to regret it.

Sheila Stone would not get that opportunity.

Popular with her peers, she was a child at the heart of all that was happening to teenagers of the day. At fifteen she had the body of a beautiful mature woman. At five feet six inches, blue eyes with blond hair cascading down the shoulders of a slim, athletic figure. It was rumoured that her light tan was passed from a Spanish sailor wrecked in the Bristol Channel in the 1800’s. In contrast to her flirty manner she appeared strangely unaware of the effect she had on men. She was a seductive flame to the young moths that fought to throw themselves into her fire. Her every movement was seemingly without intention, sensual and alluring. She was the answer to every young man’s dream. Would this be the harbinger of her demise? There was, however a dark side to Sheila known only to a few.

It was usual for young women of her age to have boyfriends and Sheila was no exception. A local boy, Adam Bunch, was her envied boyfriend of the previous eight months and was two years her senior He impressed her by his maturity over boys of her own age and at seventeen years old was a tall muscular young man with wavy black hair in sideburns. He knew he was attractive to women and confident in his manner. Sheila would watch him, with pride, playing for the local football team every Saturday. Although they were known to each other it wasn’t until Sheila started work at the Paper Mill that Adam was drawn to her. As she walked the half mile up the long hill to her home after finishing work he stopped alongside, obviously posing on his 500cc Triumph motorbike. Can I give you a lift home? he asked. When Sheila replied You don’t know where I live. He laughed and said It doesn’t matter. She climbed over onto the pillion seat and wrapped her arms around his waist as Adam opened the throttle to maximum and roared up the road.

Adam dropped her at her door and secured a further date before darting away on his beloved motor bike. He arrived as agreed the following Sunday and Sheila was waiting. The thrill of riding pillion was new to her and with her arms around his waist and the wind blowing in her hair and over her bare legs she could feel her body reacting to new sensations. It wasn’t long before their relationship was recognised in the town as they seemed inseparable and Sheila believed she was falling in love. When they kissed and cuddled Adam would inevitably search out her breasts under her bra. And Sheila was happy to oblige. As the days passed Adam became more frustrated as she blocked his intentions to touch her lower body and although she felt she was cruel to him the fear of pregnancy was foremost in her mind. However, she could feel her resolve weakening by the day. Two months after their first date they had been for a ride over the Brendon Hills and were on their way home when Adam pulled off the road into a remote field. Sheila got off and waited while Adam pulled the bike onto its stand. They stood alongside the Triumph kissing for a while as they both became aroused. Adam lifted her into his arms and sat her on the seat of the bike with her back towards the handlebars and then sat on the pillion seat facing her.

He reached forward to kiss her and Sheila said I can’t get close enough, our knees are touching

He reached down and with his hands around her legs, lifted them slowly until they were level with his waist and put his arms around her waist pulling her closer and kissing her once more. Sheila knew this was to be her first time. She held him with her arms around his neck as he slid his hands to her thighs and to her buttocks as he pushed her panties to one side. She could feel him releasing his flies before he took her hands from his neck and placed them on his penis.

I’m scared Sheila whispered.

Adam reached in his pocket and produced a condom. It will be OK he croaked and pulled her closer as she guided his entrance.

It took less than a minute for Adam to climax and withdraw, while Sheila, who had willingly surrendered her virginity, felt strangely disappointed. To lose her virginity on the back of a motorbike in a lonely field was not how she had imagined it to be. Whatever, it was done now. It would be the beginning