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Angel Maker
by Barry B. Wright


Chapter One

A heavy grey mist had settled over Bournemouth. It was well past the ten o’clock closing for pubs and the last of the trolley buses had been docked for the night. The damp, cold streets were empty, that is for the exception of a young man carrying an over-sized potato-sack across his shoulders...


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Chapter Two

Diane Waumsley pulled her woolen hat over her ears and jacked up the collar on her coat to ward off the damp, chilling November wind when she stepped out of the vehicle. Before closing the car door, she leaned back in.

“Thanks Uncle Sandy. But…are you sure you don’t mind? I...


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Chapter Three

The front door opened and closed and Lila could hear the floor boards creaking under his weight as he made his way along the hallway to the kitchen. She glanced up at the clock on the wall and shook her head.

“Sandy,” she called out, “you sure took your time about it. I trie...


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Chapter Four

A broad stroke of salmon pink across the morning horizon was beginning to fan out and to dance among the silvery grey clouds. Silhouettes of chimneys atop buildings black as newly laid coal in a burning fire poked smoke into the awakening skyline.

Inspector Alexander Collier felt a shiver of ...


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Chapter Five

Particles of dust danced in the thin wedge of light that sliced through the narrow opening between the curtains before fattening out across the lower half of the bed. At the foot of the bed against the wall was a sparsely filled clothing armoire with a jacket hanging from its opened door. Toward the...


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Chapter Six

Two significant clues had been discovered in the missing girl’s hospital room: a Winchester bottle under her bed with several fingerprints on it and on the highly polished floor the stockinged impressions of an adult male’s footprints. It had been established early in the investigation t...


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Chapter Seven

Preoccupied with the disturbing crime scene he had just left, Alexander Collier made his way down the hall to his office oblivious to the pitter-patter of shoes following closely behind him.

Leonard Scoffield and some of his team had been pulled from fingerprinting hospital staff to process t...


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Chapter Eight

Collier had unwillingly missed another Remembrance Day. He had hoped for new beginnings to his healing process but circumstance and devotion to duty steered him along a different path. The trauma of trench warfare and the emotional ties associated with the death of his brother at Passchendaele remai...


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Chapter Nine

Collier was preoccupied with a phone call from Detective Inspector Ellis Smyth from Scotland Yard when Sergeant Snowden popped his head around the partially opened door to his office. Waving him in, Collier directed him towards the two chairs in front of his desk as he swiveled about to open his not...


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Chapter Ten

When Captain Lynn Hall had worked at the U. S. Embassy in Turkey in 1936 her high intelligence and language proficiency had not gone unnoticed. A career in Foreign Service—her lifelong goal—had been well within reach.

While hunting in the Kizilcahaman District of Ankara, everythin...


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Chapter Eleven

“Whatever I tell you must remain between you and me. Do you understand? No one else must know.”

Collier slowly acknowledged his understanding with the nod of his head.

Satisfied, Captain Hall regained her seat and made herself comfortable before continuing. “A little...


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Chapter Twelve

Shortly after Captain Hall had shut the door behind her, Collier retrieved his pipe and pouch of tobacco from the side drawer of his desk. Filling his pipe he returned the tobacco to the drawer and walked over to the window. He hadn’t smoked in several months but as he drew in the smoke and pu...


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Chapter Thirteen

The phone book smacked against the wall beside him. "Bloody hell!" Closing the door, he picked up the phone book and hesitantly approached the inspector. “Bad day, Gov?” He placed it on his desk.

“You might say that, Sergeant,” replied Collier, feeling embarr...


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Chapter Fourteen

Atop the stone perimeter wall, hidden within the boughs of a leafy oak tree that overhung it, Werner Gruener peered through his binoculars at Lambert Manor. Slowly, he scanned the windows. In his tweed overcoat pocket was a copy of Psychic Glimpses by Elizabeth Stoddard (a.k.a ‘Queenie’)...


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Chapter Fifteen

Kindertransport—the transport of Jewish children out of Nazi occupied Europe—was underway. The first arrivals had disembarked in Harwich on December second. Blindly, Collier and his wife, Lila, had gone with the hope that their son and his fiancé would be among them. But, their ho...


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Chapter Sixteen

Captain Hall and Inspector Collier sat facing each other across his desk. Sergeant Snowden poured coffee into her mug and, before he left, he placed the thermos containing the remainder of the coffee on the table under the electoral map.

“Thank you, Sergeant.” Collier took a coupl...


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Chapter Seventeen

There was an unexpected bite to the late January air. Overhead, the moon danced a hot hash do-si-do with dark cotton-ball clouds while from the tree-lined shadows boughs crackled in the wind.

He wished he had worn his jacket. Clothed in a thin woolen shirt, work pants and Wellingtons, he hast...


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Chapter Eighteen

Inspector Collier turned onto the road outside the gates of Lambert Manor. Earlier, light snow had fallen making the road slick. An inky, cloud spattered and brooding sky blotted out the moon. Gusts of wind rattled windows in the Wolseley. His unfamiliarity with the country route made driving condit...


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Chapter Nineteen

Famished and well past noon, Diane Waumsley parked her bike outside the Cricketers Arms on Winham Road. Securing the bike with her combination lock, she entered the pub.

She wore a woolen sweater with a slight roll at the neck and flared pants. One pant leg had been tied off to prevent it fro...


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Chapter Twenty

Happenstance had changed Lynn Hall’s life. Her lifelong goal—a career in Foreign Service—had come to an abrupt end four years ago when she stumbled and shot herself in the leg during a hunting expedition in the Kizilcahaman District of Ankara, Turkey.

She glanced at ‘C...


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Chapter Twenty-One

The room was warm, almost too warm. The heightened adrenaline which had fed the Collier’s late night picnic had long since given way to a slumbering peacefulness. Through the split in the living room curtains Lynn’s bleary eyes deciphered a reddish hue scratched across the horizon as nig...


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Chapter Twenty-two

The sun’s rays were just peeking above the horizon when Sergeant Snowden parked in front of Inspector Collier’s home. Twenty minutes earlier than usual and without his second cup of tea, he was grumpy. What made matters worse, the local newspaper, The Echo, was not yet out, and that mea...


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Chapter Twenty-Three

At the beginning of 1939, the English south coastal resort of Bournemouth proudly proclaimed a population of one hundred thirty thousand. The natural beauty of its cliffs and the wide sweep of its bay embraced a magic carpet of sand while the Bourne River—fringed with parkland and public garde...


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Chapter Twenty-Four

The afternoon edition of The Echo’s banner headline blared out at him:‘Queenie’ Found Murdered

“Your ‘boat,’ Jock,” chortled Quentin Hogg, observing Jock’s facial expression from the end of the bar. Quentin turned and alerted the others to take ...


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Chapter Twenty-Five

Anger and resentment percolated inside him.

“Are you alright, Gov?” Sergeant Snowden asked, concerned, as he glanced at the Inspector in the rear-view mirror.

How do I answer him? Collier mused. Life had suddenly become more complicated. And, he felt its unwelcome weight sq...


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Chapter Twenty-Six

Luftwaffe officer, Harro Schulze-Boysen had been a Soviet NKVD agent since 1935. In fact, it was he who had approached them through a contact to offer his services. No one within the Nazi echelon had any idea of his real political convictions. Known by the codename ‘Corporal,’ he became ...


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Chapter Twenty-Seven

Ahead, twenty-nine Edgestone Road loomed. Once, its grounds had stood alone; reluctantly, over time, it had been forced into the lesser company of others. A caste within a framework of its own making, the grandiose dwelling’s pores had once oozed with majesty and pomp. Its lustre vanquished, t...


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Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Photograph

He had not been following a rabbit with a waistcoat-pocket and watch when he had fallen down his godforsaken hole. And the climb back up was painful. “Turn off that damn light!” Louise stepped between him and the sun. “What happened?” Collier enquired weakly, squeezing his...


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Chapter Twenty-Nine: Dibs Spoiled

“Listen to him. He’s right,” Captain Hall assured Collier.

Another flock of sharp arrows of pain took flight in Collier’s head pushing aside his growing consternation. Queasiness forced him into an unwilling compliance as he sat down. Barely audible, Collier said, &l...


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Chapter Thirty: Something Gained, Something Lost

When the shots rang out, everyone hit the ground hard except Louise. She had not yet grasped the lethal urgency of her situation. The empty brandy glass on the table directly ahead of her exploded, splaying shards of glass in her direction. Diving behind a large concrete flower pot, she smacked h...


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Chapter Thirty-One: The Night Ferry

The burgeoning crowd of people briefly captured his attention. He glanced at his watch as he opened the Paris-based newspaper Le Temps and continued to read. The Night Ferry was late. He had already gone through Customs. Not having much to declare, except for his valise, the process had gone smoo...


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