EXTRACT FOR
John Alker Returns
(Author Unknown)

Chapter 1 - John Returns

    

    Time passes slowly when you have nothing to live for, no reason to get up, just the usual boring day. Get up, eat Breakfast, followed by reading the newspaper, but not actually reading it, seeing the words with blank eyes, just looking at the pages, lunch a sandwich, then the television, till dinner time, and then watching the screen, but again, seeing nothing.

    Even his interest in horse racing had faded now. Life was humdrum, he just existed. The garden needed weeding, but he couldn't be bothered. The vegetables needed harvesting, but they lay in the ground, rotting.

    John's death had affected Billy in a very bad way; a deep depression had set in, as he became, perfunctory.

    He thought back to meeting John, how he had interrupted John as he turned over the front garden.

    "Nay lad, use thi thigh muscles, not wi thi back," he had said in passing.

    "Oh, and I suppose you know what you are talking about?" John had retorted light-heartedly.

    "I should do, I have worked on farms all me life, and don't have a bad back, which you will, doing it like that" Billy had replied.

    "Well perhaps you would like to show me where I am going wrong?" John had asked.

    Billy smiled as he recollected the meeting, and the start of a long and close friendship.

    This morning was no different, Billy got up looked in the mirror, at his straggly growing bread, and decided not to bother having a shave again. He ate his breakfast, and went down the stairs, collecting his paper, and the mail from the door mat, before entering his living room, and settling down to another long, boring day. John's death had been a bitter blow to Billy, he now felt lost, alone, and with no purpose, in life.

    Billy flopped in his chair, and looked at the envelopes, "Gas bill, Electric bill, Christ more bills. Hello what's this, no address, hand delivered?" he asked out loud.

    Billy opened the deal on the paper, his hand shaking from nerves; he recognised the hand writing, and his age also played a part.

    

    Dear Billy,

    I decided to write to you, because if I turned up unexpected the shock might kill you, from a heart attack, not that the letter won't come as a shock.

    Are you sitting comfortably?

    

    "Am I sitting comfortably? You cretin, shock, my heart is racing ninety to the dozen," he said out loud recognising the hand writing.

    

    Please, don't tell anyone about this. I will come and see you tonight at nine o'clock to tell you about what has happened. Please, do not tell anyone until I have spoken to you about this, I will explain.

    Yours faithfully,

    John.

    

    Billy, read the letter again and again, his pipe lying on the floor where it had dropped from his mouth as he looked at the letter, a look of sheer shock was written all over his face, his eyes wide and his mouth open aghast.

    "Who the hell am I going to tell; no-one visits me anymore? No, that isn't true, but I am alone, what if I had a heart attack you bloody fool giving me a shock like this," Billy said out loud as if talking to John.

    Billy sat back and panted for a few moments, allowing his heart to calm down; he closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, then opened them again, and re-read the letter, he seemed to automatically stamp his foot, on the burning embers on his carpet that had fallen from his pipe, as he read the letter.

    It had been a month since the tragic accident that had wiped out almost a quarter of the vicarage where John had lived. This was after he had solved the case of the serial killer who was burying his victims in time. It had been a case that had been a life long struggle for John Alker, ex-Chief Inspector of Scotland Yard.

    Even now, the case officially had not been solved, because no-one would believe that one person could have built, and used a time machine in that way, but John had obtained a death bed confession, on tape. Then he had decided that the machine was too dangerous, even if passed on to the authorities, there was always a risk of miss-use. So he decided to destroy it, rather than hand it over, and was about to destroy it the following morning when the tragedy, had occurred.

    Billy was in the garden when a large section of the house just disappeared, the authorities put it down to a gas leak, and explosion, but Billy knew better, the house had disappeared into the annals of time, which was why he had accepted that John, was dead not believing he could have survived, such a devastation.

    Billy had been his right hand man during the later years when he was actively hunting the killer, visiting brothels, and a dominatrix in his hunt, for the killer. John and Billy also worked in John's garden, producing vegetables that they sold, and then gave the money they raised to the local cottage hospital, to help keep it from closing, which was where John's late wife had died, of breast cancer.

    Billy flopped down in his arm chair, and bent down unthinking, to pick his pipe up, stamping out the last of the burning embers from his fallen pipe, on the already scorched carpet. He picked up the letter again, and read it again, still in a state of shock, and disbelief.

    "Fucking idiot, what is he trying to do, kill me?" Billy asked of no-one.

    All that day he wandered around in a dream, not believing what he had read, yet also hoping that it was correct, his initial reaction was that it was a sick prank, but the writing was John's hand. He missed John very much; they had a kindred spirit, like brothers, yet not. He had taught John all he knew about growing plants and vegetable, and as the case had gone on, John had taught him all about investigating crimes, they had been inseparable.

    The case had brought John back to life, after the death of his wife, it gave him purpose. Even though John and Mary had tried, there was to be no children, and they doted on each other. The loss of his wife had hit John hard, friends had pushed him to track down the killer, and that gave him purpose again, and saved him.

    Billy picked up the letter again and reread it, just as John had taught him to do looking for that very small piece of evidence that would lead to a solution, to the crime. He studied the paper first of all, and realised that it wasn't paper at all, but a thick piece of something he had never touched before, and it wasn't square like a sheet of paper it was odd, then the writing that also was odd, like a scratch, and with blots, or larger thicker lines so unlike John, he had beautiful hand writing. But it was just like John to think of the effects of just appearing, and the shock to Billy and yet the writing was very similar to John's handwriting. This was bad, had John just walked into the room Billy was in, he would indeed have had a heart attack; John was dead, wasn't he?

    Eight thirty, and Billy was sat in his chair, pipe sending billows of smoke out till the whole room was filled with a fog like smoke, nervous, afraid even, of what would happen, and oddly, hoping that he wouldn't appear, yet also desperate to see him, again. Was it a ghost that would appear? What if it was, what should he do? Would he appear like a vision, he was dead, wasn't he?

    Nine o'clock on the dot there was a knock on the living room door, and it opened slowly.

    "For god's sake come in, and stop teasing me, or I'll punch your lights out, you asshole," Billy shouted from fear.

    "It's only me Billy, relax. I was afraid that I might frighten you into a heart attack," John said, as he entered the room.

    "Frighten me you fucking terrified me, what the hell is going on?" Billy demanded, his voice still shaking from apprehension.

    "Sorry Billy, I have a long story to tell you, I can't say that I believe it, or wouldn't believe it, had it not happened, to me.

    I went into Alan's room, and looked at the machine, he had already set the dials, and I decided to do as the computer said, and hit the enter button. He had chosen the site well, it was remote, a disused farm house with a cellar, and that was where I ended up, inside the cellar, everything in working order, and I wasn't hurt. I decided to get out and look around, not knowing where I was, or when. So I carefully left the farm house, and walked down the road, not knowing where I was heading for, it was just a direction. After about two miles I came to a castle.

    I got some really odd looks, remember I was in present day clothes, and they were in mediaeval clothes. So I bluffed it, I looked around, I had a problem, a big problem I didn't have anything to trade, and none of the money of that time period, so I couldn't buy any food or clothes, but Alan had several rings in gold, and I went back, and traded them for cash, to buy food. Then I went back, and made myself a meal after that I felt much better, and began to think about what I was going to do.

    It took me until now to work out how that blessed machine worked, or how to use it, I should say. I am sorry about taking the money, but I needed some, oh, of course you wouldn't know about that, would you? I came back six weeks ago, and took fifty thousand from my rent account. Which is a lot of money now; but back then, thirteen fifty five or there about, I would have been the equivalent to a billionaire, in today's terms. So I had to be careful not to flash it about that would have drawn attention to me.

    I exchanged some of it for gold, which I took back in small quantities, and stored it in the cellar, where I put various things in place to protect the cellar, and therefore me, things that didn't exist in that time period, but they will never be found. Then I wondered what should I do, I am alive and well, still fairly fit, and active, and missing my closest friend, so I decided to visit you, and tell you about it, and ask, if you wanted to help, Lynda?" John asked him.

    "Lynda, why does Lynda, need help?" Billy asked.

    "You are still in touch with her aren't you, and she is working on a very big case at the moment, a serial rapist?" John told him

    "John, just how long have you been around without speaking to me, hey?" Billy asked annoyed.

    "Not long, a couple of days, whilst I tried to work out how to approach you, but I have heard your conversation with Lynda. The one when she told you that she had a big case, and wouldn't be able to visit you, this weekend. With this in mind, I watched her and found out what the case was, and decided that I could help her catch the swine, and you have started swearing, far too much," John admonished Billy

    "So would you if your best friend had died, and then come back to life again. Why didn't you call me earlier, when I was in mourning, instead of when I had just got used to the idea that you would never return?" Billy asked angrily.

    "That was because I didn't want to just come back, and face an inquisition. I wanted to do something, I needed to have a reason or purpose, and now I do have. Also, I well, it seems self-centred of me, but I like my life in the thirteenth century, and didn't want to spoil it, but I missed you and Lynda, so I waited until I had mastered the machine, and had a few trials before, I came back.

    If the authorities find out that I am back, then the proverbial will hit the fan, and I would be in big trouble. They don't like it when you destroy something as, err, exciting, as a time machine, and it is quite simple to use really, you just set the date, and time on the computer, then press enter, and walk into the vortex. Oh, and set the time to return, I am afraid you are stuck with me till morning, nine o'clock, to be precise," John told Billy.

    "But you said that the machine was too dangerous, and that you wanted it destroyed, now you want to use it, and change history. What the hell has come over you?" Billy asked John, shocked at the idea.

    "Billy, just imagine if you will, my feelings, when I looked around me, and it was pitch black, only lit by the small lights, of the screen on the computer. I realised that I was in a cellar from the damp and musty smell, and went up the stairs carefully, because I didn't know where, I was.

    The furniture was rough-hewn and simple, the building was of timber, with tattered rags on the openings for windows. I guessed that I was in the middle ages, in a tied farm cottage from the view out of the window. It was in the middle of nowhere. There were trees all around, and a small area fenced off. I went back into the cellar, and looked at the screen on the computer, it said thirteen fifty six. So I now knew when I was, sorry that didn't come out very well, but the time zone I was in, but where was I, England, France, China, I had no idea, except that it was summer, from the deciduous trees, which were in leaf, and it being warm.

    I searched Alan's room going through all his drawers until I found a note book, and then I sat down and read it, and again you know me, I tend to read things two or three times looking for that little something, to help me. I was in the middle of a crime scene; I was the crime, the victim and the perpetrator all at the same time. I read it until I dozed off from tiredness. When I awoke, I was hungry, and then decided that I needed food. There wasn't a grocery shop just down the road, a Tesco's or Sainsbury's, there was nothing, so I looked around the cellar, which as I said was lit by the computer, so it wasn't easy, I can tell you.

    Upstairs, I found some food, and ate it, tinned stuff of all things, and hidden under the floor boards. Obviously Alan had planned to go there, but why? Well I ate the food, and then went back to work trying to work out where I was, and how to get back.

    You may not believe me, but that was my first instinct, to come back.

    I played with the machine following what I remembered from our conversations with Alan, and his note book. Oh, I did find a torch, and then a switch, and turned the lights on, fascinating, electrical power in the thirteenth century.

    In his notes he had put that the reactor would provide power for two hundred years, so I had plenty of power. Also during my search, I found a pile of gold ingots, about twenty or so, no wonder he never had any money, he was stashing it all away, but what for?

    Then I began to think about his situation, and what had happened to him, and I came up with the fact that he was going to, change history.

    Do you remember the research we did on this area? It was a wooded area for a long time, right up into the sixteenth century, when it was turned into farm land. The owner then was a lord, and his house was burned down, by Alan, or rather Alan's family. Owning the land as a settler, and a wealthy settler, he would have gained certain rights, seeing as he could afford to buy the land, but what would his children have done, would they have kept the land? Would they squander away his inheritance? To safe guard this, he would have to have a royal warrant, something that precluded the sale of the land, yet he. No that, couldn't have worked. Why, oh why, what was he up to?" John asked, still trying to work out what Alan's plan was, and why he had chosen that particular place and time, in history.

    "John you are tired, it's been a long day, and it is well after midnight, can we talk about this tomorrow?" Billy asked.

    'Yes you're right, it has been a long day, I had it all worked out, my mind is going," John said disgruntled that his thoughts were not valid.

    "No, you're as happy to be here as I am to see you, but as you said to me many a time, we can think better with a night's sleep, under our belts. I will set the alarm for six just five and a half, hours, but enough time for us, and then we will have three hours to talk about this. Can I let Lynda know, she will be delighted?" Billy asked.

    'Yes, I wanted you to tell Lynda, and invite her down here, so that we can meet, and catch up, but please, just for now, don't tell anyone else, and ask her to keep it a secret, for now. I need to put my head in order, before I face the music, if that is what is going to happen?" John asked.

    "Why just for now, our secret is safe for as long as you want, as long as you don't do anything stupid, like investigating crimes?" Billy asked him, and smiled.

    "Me, investigate crimes, perish the thought," John said, and laughed.

    John and Billy went to bed; it felt strange for John to be sleeping at Billy's for a change, before the accident Billy was the one to sleep at John's. John threw the blanket Billy had handed him over the spare bed, and went to sleep very quickly, it seemed a long time since he had slept in a soft, comfortable bed, as opposed to a palliasse.

    John was woken by Billy shaking his arm, he looked up, and took the shaver, and tooth brush etcetera handed to him by Billy, and used the bathroom.

    "Billy you can't imagine how good it felt to have a shower and a shave, with hot water, the cottage is very primitive," John said as he entered the kitchen.

    Billy left John in charge of breakfast, whilst he made the phone call to Lynda.

    'Lynda, sorry, have I disturbed you?" Billy asked, knowing he had, "Oh good, just up, I see," Billy waited as Lynda pretended to have just woken up, "Oh yes, well just allow me to speak, stop worrying about me. I am fine, better than that, I need you to keep a secret," again Billy paused whilst Lynda expressed her concerns, "Yes, it is a big secret, for the moment, I have here with me an old friend, who has just returned," Billy moved the earpiece away from his ear, "Oh, yes,' Billy said and smiled, then frowned as she gave vent to her feelings, "He apologises," Billy again moved the earpiece away, and frowned, "No don't do that, I have just got him back," John was smiling as he watched Billy's reactions to Lynda's admonishments, "Here I'll pass you over," Billy said handing the phone to John.

    "Where the hell have you been, and why didn't you come back earlier you miserable old fart, yes fart. Billy has been through hell, since he thought you were dead. I have a good mind to come down there and punch your lights out," Lynda said, in an angry tone.

    "Lynda, how nice, to hear you, yes I missed you as well. Now I can't tell you everything over the phone, so can we meet, say Saturday here at Billy's in the morning, then I will explain everything, and bring you up to date," John said, and frowned as she again gave vent to her feelings.

    "No, I am in the middle of a serial sexual assault case, and we are getting nowhere, I am being pushed because of the media, and there are no clues, he is very good, and covers his tracks very well, I could do with your brain, on this one," Lynda said

    'No can do, I am dead, remember, but I may be able to help. I will see you on Sunday then, it is important, and I may have something to help you with the case, I am working on it, so Sunday, please?" John asked her, yet making it that she couldn't refuse.

    Lynda agreed, and they hung up, Billy had made a full English breakfast, which John tucked into, not having eaten anything hot for the last month, especially fresh bacon and eggs. John told Billy about his adventures, and at nine o'clock on the dot, John simply disappeared, leaving Billy wondering if he had dreamt the meeting, but there were two dirty plates that needed washing, so it couldn't have been a dream, could it?

    Sunday arrived, as did Lynda as arranged, and as John had said he would do, he knocked on the living room door and waited for Billy to say, "Come in."

    "What are you waiting for John, we are here waiting," Billy called out?

    John opened the door and entered, "It is only polite to knock, I am already in the house, but at least I can knock on the door out of politeness," John said.

    "I never knocked on your door, so you don't have to knock on mine. Lynda and I weren't doing anything, you silly old sod," Billy said with an innuendo in his voice

    "Lynda," John said a nervous broad smile on his face, as he stood in the doorway, yet afraid, nervous of the meeting, and the verbal abuse he was expecting, "Sorry, I suppose Billy has told you what happened, so please accept my apologies for not being in touch. As you can see I am fine and healthy, if a little shaken, and still trying to come to terms with what has happened."

    "You stupid old sod, you frightened us all, we were in mourning for a dead man that was living it up in the middle ages, with no consideration for their friends feelings, and the upset it had caused them," she said as a tear ran down her cheeks, as she put her arms around him, and kissed his cheek, "It is good to see you, but don't think you have heard the last of this, not by a long way," she added, and sat down wiping her eyes.

    "To help make it up to you, the person you are seeking is one Ian Williams, and he lives at 125, Winter Street, Kensington, in his bedroom there is a chest of drawers, and under the second drawer down, there are photos of his victims, prior to the attack, and after. In the bottom drawer you will find a bottle of the date rape drug, which he uses. He is six foot, athletic, slim, brown hair, blue eyes, and there is a small tattoo on his left buttock. Does that help you?" John asked her.

    "How," Lynda asked looking at him, her eyes wide open in shock, "How the hell did you find all that out?"

    "It is relatively easy really, when one has a time machine. I opened up a viewing lens into the past, well my future, and found out where the attack had taken place, then went back in time with again a viewing lens, to the date and time of the incident, and of course the location. Now came the hard part.

    I had to watch him with her, don't forget the event had happened, so I couldn't interfere, without changing the time line, something you must never do. I then followed him home with the viewing lens, and made a note of his address. Then went forward to each morning until he received a letter, and found out his name, please remember. I cannot change the time line, what has happened, happened, and I cannot do anything to stop the attack. That is why it was so hard for me, knowing what was about to happen, and unable to stop it, also knowing that this was his first victim, and more women would be assaulted, yet I was powerless to do anything.

    The photographic evidence, for which you will need to get a search warrant, to search his flat, and to get that, you will need grounds, the grounds are behind the tree next to where the assault took place, in a shallow hole, he buried the condom he used, there. Oh and you need to arrest him before Wednesday, because he flies off to Spain for a week's rest. He has been a busy man, and needs a rest don't you think, six assaults in as many weeks. He is good looking, so don't fall for his charm, does that help?" John asked her.

    "Yes it does, but how the hell can I use it. A friend went back in time, and found all this out, my Lord. Come on John, you should know I can't act on it, can I?" Lynda asked not thinking from the shock, she still felt.

    "I did think about that. What if you decided to check the crime scene again, and found a Condom, which you decided to have tested, for DNA, contaminated, but enough with both sets of DNA on the condom, to justify a search warrant, and from that found out his address etcetera, and got a search warrant? I'd keep it quiet, getting the warrant, and then found the photos, when you searched his flat, plausible?" John asked, he knew it was thin, but had just enough credibility, to work.

    "Hum, possible, but why would they do a DNA test on a condom, just because it was found near the scene, especially when the area is used by lovers. Hum, it has possibilities, but as you say thin, wafer thin," Lynda said, as she thought the offer through.

    "Would a lover take the time to bury the condom, or would he just throw it away. Your attacker knew that he was safe, he had the time to dig a small hole, and press the soil back, hiding it, so don't just look, kick the soil about disturb the ground. How you find it is irrelevant, all you have to do, is find it, do you agree?" John asked.

    "Yes, I will do that first thing, I can't stop overnight, I have to get back, I have several other crimes on my desk, how about a little help with those hey, and I might just forgive you?" Lynda said and laughed.

    "No way, you're a good copper, you will solve them, this one was a nasty one, this type of assault is a heinous crime, and that is why I decided to help you with this one, but if any more serious crimes such as this one come up, then I will help," John told her, and gave her a hug.

    "So, how long will it be before you start with cancer, like Alan?" Lynda asked, her face set, challenging him.

    "Never, he got the cancer from the radiation on his first machine; this one is well protected, he learned, but too late. I bought a Geiger counter on a previous visit, again for that very reason, so that if I was in danger, then I wouldn't have come back. I didn't want you to suffer twice," John said thoughtfully.

    "Bloody thoughtful of you," Billy said, with sarcasm, and they all laughed.