Pink Velvet Jacket

A beautiful area has a dark side to it.

 

 

PINK VELVET JACKET

 

All day long, lorries and smaller vehicles rumbled along the main road that led from the highest point in the county to the towns and villages below. Luckily for the local inhabitants, the road didn’t pass through any of the villages, but instead skirted them. The heavily wooded area had difficult access, due to the density and darkness of the many trees and bushes that lined the road and the sides of the hills. The steep slopes were rather forbidding to anyone who was ignorant of them. The locals, even though they had been born and bred in the high hills, had deep respect for anything that grew around there. Unless it was of the utmost importance, nobody from the villages or towns ventured along the main road, preferring instead to take the minor roads to get out of the area, and take longer routes rather than run the risk of the dangerous curves and bends.

 

The heavy vehicle was thundering along the road. Whereas it should have curved round the bend, went off the asphalted surface and turned down into the wooded skirt of the hill. It went crashing down, down, breaking through the vegetation that it met. The roar of the engine, mixed with the breaking of trees and the tearing down of bushes was deafening, but not for long. It was soon over, and an uneasy silence took their place. The driver and his mate were dead and there were no witnesses to relate what had actually taken place.

 

The group of climbers had left the last village behind them, and were determined to make it to the hilltop before nightfall. They had thought of camping, weather permitting, if the landscape proved too hard for them to make it in one day. The ground was dry, so that was one hazard less to contend with. There was a small river, which at that time, at the beginning of summer, was nothing more than a trickle of water. There was nothing to be afraid of. The group was composed of five friends: three men, Bruno, Humphrey, Johnny; and two women, Amabel and Cherry. They were all bored with the monotony of their daily lives and had decided to have a weekend doing something different and that wouldn’t mean shelling out a lot of money. All five had varying problems in making it to the end of the month financially. None of them were novices at camping, at some time or other they had experienced spending days or weeks under canvas. The first thing to do, was to set up the tents and then light a fire. Cherry and Humphrey stayed behind to tidy the interior of the tents and keep the fire going whilst the other three went out looking for more wood.

 

They had only walked a little way when Amabel said to her two companions, “Take a look at that. Isn’t it a car?”

The two men walked in the direction she was pointing to, and as they walked they saw suitcases and clothes scattered all around on the ground. There were two dead people inside, in the driver’s and the passenger’s seats. From the condition of their bodies, it seemed that the accident they had been involved in hadn’t taken place recently. There was evidence of animals having been in the vicinity. Amabel rang the local police to inform them of the accident and where the remains were. The sergeant who took the call gave the news to his superiors, who sent out police cars and an ambulance to the site.

 

“How many does that make it this year?” The superintendent asked the inspector.

“I think it’s five this year, Sir.”

“Well, we’d better get down there and see what’s going on. Who rang to inform us?”

“Our informant was a lady who’s camping with friends.”

 

The two policemen left the station, got into a dark blue police car, and drove off to view the remains of the accident and the place where the car had slid off the road. Meanwhile back down at the bottom of the ravine the trio that had found the car and its grisly contents were wandering around. “We mustn’t touch anything, unless we want the wrath of the law to fall on our heads,” Bruno said, shivering at the thought of the accident and how it must have happened.

“We’ve seen enough programmes on television to make sure to not do anything to upset an investigation,” Johnny said.

“There’s something bright pink lying on the ground not far from the car,” Amabel pointed out to her friends.

 

The sound of a car nearing them stopped any more ideas of doing their own detective work.

The superintendent and the inspector got out of the car and moved towards the wrecked vehicle.

“Would you mind going further back, please, as we want the area to stay as it was. We don’t know yet what caused this car to go over the edge.”

The three friends went off looking for more wood and left the policemen to get on with their investigation. More cars and vans arrived and then the ambulance. Amabel watched as the clothing and other goods that were scattered on the ground were picked up and put into large bin-bags, sealed, and put into a police van to be taken away to be examined for some kind of clues.

 

Nobody had heard the car accident, but why should they have done? The number of accidents on that particular stretch of road was scandalous, and nobody had ever bothered to work out why. At some point in the past, the dangerous turnoff must have developed. Another strange thing was that the accidents didn’t take place all the year through. The majority of accidents were from spring to autumn. The traffic of heavy vehicles and smaller cars and vans didn’t find the road round the villages interesting enough for driving on with snow and ice and heavy rain.

 

The pink velvet jacket was taken to the forensics laboratory to be examined for DNA and any sign of blood or other scientific information, for instance, drinks, food, cigarettes, and drugs. The label inside the jacket was easy to read and it was discovered to be from a theatrical costumiers. That piece of information was presented to the superintendent who rang the factory where the jacket had been made. It turned out that the jacket had been stolen from a theatre and everyone in the show had had one of those jackets. The theatre was soon swarmed by reporters and television crews eager to find out what must be a juicy story. Where the car had been found was soon raided by members of the press.

From one day to the next, the hilly area became the most well-known place in the country. Every evening for two weeks, the general public was treated to scenic photos of the hill and wooded unknown area. The local council was worried that everyone would think they were stingy and tight-fisted where public spending was concerned. So, when it became blatantly obvious that day trippers and campers would be arriving in droves, instead of the usual one in a million who had found their way there by accident, put up a long, strong metal barrier where the dangerous bend was.

 

The pink velvet jacket was in due time professionally cleaned and the theatre claimed it as their property. What hadn’t been discovered was how and why the girl in the car had the jacket.

 

Now that the bend was being closed off, it created a great problem for the person who had been instrumental in causing the accidents. For many years the villages had been living in fear of a man called ‘The Manipulator’, who controlled all the comings and goings in the local villages. His real name was no longer used. The only thing that was known about him was, that he had the power. The pink velvet jacket had annoyed him from the first moment it was mentioned on television and in the press. He had called the local council to meet him at his secret hideout, to find out what they were thinking of doing regards the publicity.

“This business with the crashed car and the dead people inside, and then the story about the pink velvet jacket, is not a very good thing for us. So what do you propose doing about solving the problem?” The Manipulator asked them.

Jonas Lean, the mayor of the village where the main road was situated, cleared his throat and said, “There was an emergency meeting at the council and it was decided to put a metal barrier where the bend is. We know that you would probably not agree with our decision, but we had no choice if we don’t want the police hanging around here indefinitely.”

The Manipulator, who was an elderly man with white hair and wearing a designer suit and smelling of the most expensive toilet water, sat and thought. Then he coughed and said in his rasping voice, “As you have taken this problem upon yourselves, then the only option is to find another suitable scenario for our field of operations. Business hasn’t been good for quite a while now, so maybe it’s not a bad thing what has happened. Have the two dead in the car been identified yet?”

Cyrus Cook, who was the deputy mayor, offered his part in the conversation, “We still have no idea of who they might be. Our mole in the police station told us there is a total silence on those two, and the pink velvet jacket. Everyone knows it was stolen from a theatre and nothing else.”

The Manipulator stood and, escorted by his personal assistant, said, “Then we’ll have to wait for the results like everyone around here. Good day, gentlemen.”

The two elderly men left the room. The two left behind heard the sound of a car starting up, and when there was silence also left the room and drove back together.

 

The pink velvet jacket was not headline news for much time. More important articles occupied the headlines. The police received a phone call from an anxious mother who thought her daughter might be the dead girl in the car. Laura, the possible mother of the girl found in the car, went to police headquarters and she was asked to make a positive identification.

The sight of the dead girl wasn’t a pretty one, as her body had been exposed to the elements although still locked in the seat by the safety belt. Laura was on the point of fainting when she realized it was her daughter under the sheet.

“I didn’t know where my daughter, Paulina, had got to, but it was the pink jacket that did it for me. The man who was with her, well, I know nothing about him. As far as I knew, she hadn’t had a boyfriend for a very long time.”

“Thank you very much for coming. What made you think it was your daughter?”

“That pink velvet jacket, she had one just like that. There’s another thing, she had her own car, so why would she be travelling with an unknown man in his car?”

 “Have you any idea where she got the jacket from, and where she might have been going?” The superintendent asked.

“She said it had come from a friend called Marlisa, whoever she is. I’ve never met her.”

“Did your daughter live with you or with a friend?”

“She lived alone, so I was never privy to her comings and goings. We only knew what she told us.”

“Thank you very much. We’ll let you know when her body will be released for burial.”

 

After Laura had gone, the superintendent said to the inspector, “Now we have to find Marlisa.

“I don’t see why, Sir, after all, the theatre got the jacket back. Still, we could get some information about the theatre itself and what they do there, apart from putting on shows that don’t attract great audiences.”

“Don’t you find it all rather odd? The crashed car and the things scattered all over the place.”

“Maybe it wasn’t an accident, Sir.”

“I think it might not be a bad idea to go and take another look at the hills and the villages.”

 

The two policemen left the station and got into a high-powered four-wheel-drive for travelling in rough country. The journey took them a couple of hours, and by the time they got up there to the villages and a countryside almost empty of inhabitants, the weather was drier although a little windy. They got out of the car, and walked to where the workmen were still setting up the new metal barrier.

They observed the tyre marks, and then looked down the ravine, and the superintendent said to the inspector, “Come on, let’s go down and see what’s been going on down there.” They climbed down the steep wooded slopes and saw broken trees and destroyed bushes. “Something’s been happening here. It’s not a usual thing to see broken trees and bushes like this. Let’s see if there’s anything else,” the superintendent said.

They could see when they were nearer the bottom, the place where the car had gone down the slope to the bottom of the ravine. They looked up at where the men had stopped working on the barrier to let the policemen down. “Do you know what I think?” the inspector said. “The car and the couple inside it were in the wrong place at the wrong time, unfortunately for them.”

“What makes you think that?” asked the superintendent.

“The tyre and wheel marks above were of heavier vehicles, not saloon cars.”

“You’re right. We’ll go back up, and find out what we can about the accident rate around here, and what the vehicles were carrying.”

 

At the top of the hill they got back into the four-wheel-drive and went directly to the nearest village. The villagers were, for the most part, reluctant to talk about the accidents that had been occurring over so many years. The superintendent and the inspector didn’t give up, and at long last managed to find someone who wasn’t afraid to open her mouth.

Her name was Josephine Tanner, who was the wife of the local baker. “I remember from when we were taking the first loaves out of the ovens and into the shop, from time to time the sound of some enormous vehicle crashing down into the ravine. The police would go and try to get the driver and his companion out of the damaged vehicle. It never happened, they always died in the act or on their way to hospital.”

“Did anybody suspect that something criminal might be going on?” the superintendent asked.

“We all knew who was behind these crashes, and were too afraid to speak up.”

“Well, are you going to tell me who was behind all this?” the inspector asked.

“The Manipulator was. The thing is, we don’t know his real name,” the baker’s wife told them.

“Do you know what was in the vehicles that crashed down into the ravine?”

“We were told they were full of electrical goods, but the people who were sent down there to pick up the stuff said it wasn’t televisions but things like detonators.”

“I suppose there is no evidence of this?”

“No, Sir, it’s what was said. The size of the lorry more or less told you what could be inside it. The men who were employed by The Manipulator were always down there ready to pick up the stuff and then transport it to cities and towns away from here, in order to sell it on the black market.”

 

Back in the car, the superintendent said, “I can’t imagine why anybody would want detonators unless they’re going to blow up a bank or for a mine.”

“They had other things too, apparently. Anyway, we’ll probably never know the whole story.” the inspector said.

“Those in the know, must have made millions. I wonder where they’ll set up their next business.”

“Aren’t we going to see The Manipulator?”

“What for? He’s left the area for sure. Let’s go and get some lunch,” the superintendent suggested.

 

The investigation, or what was left of it, didn’t turn up any more interesting information than they already knew, except that the driver of the car was married and his wife knew nothing of why he should have been anywhere near the ravine. How Paulina and the driver had met was a mystery. But, that they had died together, was a fact.

 

Another phone call was received by the desk sergeant. This time it was from a woman who rang to say the man in the car could be her husband. His name was David, and he had been missing for some weeks, and she had already reported it, but until she had read about the accident in the ravine, hadn’t had any notification or idea of where he could be. The woman was asked to attend the police station and make an identification of the cadaver, in case it was her missing husband.

As had happened with Paulina’s mother, David’s wife went to make an official identification. On seeing the once handsome face of her husband now reduced to animal bite marks, David’s wife screamed. She sat down in another room and was given a strong cup of coffee with lots of sugar in it. Once calmed down, she told them he had been on a business trip and had no idea who Paulina was.

 

As luck would have it, Paulina’s abandoned car was found in a pub car park some twenty kilometres away from the ravine. The police discovered it had no petrol and one of the wheels had a puncture. That was the end of the mystery associated to the two dead in the car. The unfortunate pair had met their fate by sheer ignorance of the existence of the dangerous bend.

 

Marlisa was finally interviewed at the theatre in a dressing-room. The superintendent and the inspector were invited in.

“A pink velvet jacket belonging to this theatre company was found at the site of the crash, and after the forensics had finished with it, it was returned to this theatre. Paulina’s mother said that you had lent it to her daughter for a party. Is that true?” the superintendent asked.

“Yes, it’s true. One day she saw it, and fancied wearing it to a party, instead of buying something new.”

“Is this common practice among the entertainers here?”

“No, it isn’t. But my father owns this theatre, and he was hopping mad when he heard about the jacket, as he doesn’t like any attention being drawn to him.”

“Who is your father?”

“He’s known as The Manipulator.”