BLINCOE’S CASEBOOK:- 1) THE CROSS MURDERS 11 (Conclusion)

By Pueros

Chapter 11 – Denouement

(September 1999, somewhere)

After the horrors of the previous Sunday, Per’s subsequent acts of anal communion with the cult members and oral communion with the High Priest lasted only five evenings because on the Saturday the tribute was relocated to the large white van. The final ceremonials had been even worse than previous because, in addition to experiencing the delights of the nipple clamps during the devilish sermons, the gagged boy was also slowly whipped all over his body, now kept permanently naked so that his genital piercings could be fully appreciated by all. The lad had humiliatingly cum on three of the five occasions.

Per was not at first able to discover the few contents of the white van as he had been rendered unconscious in the same way as during his abduction. The drugged boy, vivid red whip marks all over him, had not been taken directly to the vehicle but had first endured a journey in the boot of a car. When the sore gagged nude lad did finally awaken many hours later, he found that he had been strapped immovably to a stretcher fixed firmly to the floor of the moving van. On either side of him sat the two crucifers. Behind Cycnus was a Harley Davidson motorcycle and a stepladder, the former also strapped in place to the floor whilst the latter was attached to the side. Behind Hyacinthus was a big black wooden cross of the type with which the tribute was now very familiar, it too secured to the wall.

(Same time, Norfolk, England)

It was Sunday morning. Blincoe had slept fitfully in the back of his police car, regularly waking in a sweat after suffering a peculiar recurrent nightmare involving the skull scene from Hamlet. His driver, bringing his superior some coffee, announced “DCI Burrows has just reported in, sir, both sites are under close surveillance by two full squads of our best officers and two police helicopters are standing by.” “Right,” replied the DCS, “all we can do now is hope that they show up!”

Blincoe removed himself from the car to stretch his limbs after his uncomfortable night. The car was located in a lay-by of a quiet country lane, equidistant from the two camping sites in Norfolk that it had been discovered the Cotswold scout group had used in the past on weekend expeditions. Burrows had found out that the sites of the crucifixions of the previous three young victims, always close to where they had been kidnapped, had also been very near sites frequented over recent years by the highly active and adventurous group. It was Blincoe’s theory that the act of murder would take place on one of the two similar locations in Norfolk, from were Per had been snatched.

Blincoe’s expectation that the bastards would still go through with the act had been heightened by the annoying report of Quigly’s sudden disappearance from his vicarage, embarrassingly unseen by the watching surveillance team. The Reverend had apparently used his expensive Harley Davidson to drive across a farmer’s track at the rear of the vicarage, increasing suspicions about his intentions. These were not alleviated by the very tense rector, who could only advise that his Church of England subordinate had requested some urgent leave for an undisclosed reason. A scoutmaster had also escaped his tail.

(6 hours later, somewhere)

The white van arrived at its secluded destination, the edge of a large quiet remote wooded clearing. A lake was nearby but that could not be seen because of the trees. The party of six celebrants left the vehicle to redress in their ceremonial attire, but with boots, before the video camera started to record for posterity the subsequent rites.

Per was unstrapped from the stretcher and removed from the van under the close supervision of the crucifers and the two Priests who had inflicted so much pain on him. The young Dane was encouraged to urinate before being presented with a bucket, filled with cold water from the lake, and a bar of perfumed soap. The boy was commanded to wash. He was not told that his naked body had to be pure to meet Diabolus. Whilst the frightened lad complied, the cross was removed from the vehicle and rested on the ground on one of its crossbeam arms.

After Per had completed his ablutions, dried himself with the proffered towel and had his hair combed by Hyacinthus, he was instructed to pick up the heavy cross, using his right shoulder to take the weight under the cross-section. The tremulous young Dane, with the stimulus of the pain collar fitted with a fresh battery round his neck, reluctantly obeyed but with some difficulty because the structure was very heavy. The branded and pierced nude boy, covered also in goosepimples and shivering slightly in the cool autumnal air, was then ordered to carry the cross to the centre of the leaf-strewn muddy clearing.

(Same time, Norfolk, England)

Blincoe was very worried. No sightings had yet been made at either local site and he felt that, if the murderous event was to happen, it should have started by now if forensic examination of the previous scenes was to be believed. The DCS could also not remove Hamlet from his mind.

(Same time, somewhere)

Per had to be helped by the crucifers to drag the heavy edifice to the centre of the clearing, leaving a deep rut in the ground behind. However, the destination was finally achieved after a struggle and the cross was placed flat, front-up, on the ground, its rectangular base adjacent to a similarly shaped trench that had been dug by an earlier cult visitor a few days previously. The scared young Dane wondered what was going on for the dramatic turn of events had been completely unexpected and he, rightly as it turned out, feared the worst.

Per, privately querying the need for his early chilly wash as his feet were now dirty and his legs had been splashed with mud, was ordered onto all fours, thereby also muddying his hands and knees. The boy was required to place himself so that his hardening cock pointed down at the middle of the cross. From this position, the tribute was told to kiss the pentagram painted on top of the upper arm before remaining in situ for communion with the celebrants one last time. The crucifers took up positions first, Hyacinthus in front, Cycnus behind. The young Dane soon had young English penises simultaneously in both his mouth and anus. They were to be followed those of the four adult celebrants.

After consuming the ejaculated communal offerings in his orifices, Per was commanded to perform his final homage before lying face-up on the cross so that his arms extended along each crossbeam and his legs down the central span. The young Dane did not like the situation at all but, with the pain collar in place, knew that he had no escape. However, his deep apprehension did not prevent his cock standing vertically upwards.

The two cult Priests now firmly held in place each of Per’s hands so that the palms were uppermost and the inner wrists exposed, whilst the two crucifers held the young Dane’s legs in place. The 14 years old began to struggle fruitlessly when the High Priest collected from the van a mallet and three long sharp round-headed metal spikes, as well as the gag that the boy had worn earlier.

(Same time Norfolk, England)

“Damn and blast,” declared Blincoe to himself as the enormity of his mistake dawned on him when another vision of the skull scene from Hamlet entered his mind. The DCS picked up the car radio and ordered “Get me Interpol and hurry!” However, the detective worried that Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, was too late in pointing out to him his fundamental folly. The fact that the previous crucifixions had taken place near to the abductions was mere irrelevance. It now occurred to the detective that it was where the victims lived that was most important to the murderers, in line with the boys’ nationalities and their national flags, all displaying crosses. He recalled that the scout group had once camped on the island of Zealand.

(Same time, Zealand, Denmark)

The High Priest smiled as he knelt in front of Per’s left forearm and placed his various implements temporarily on the ground before gagging the appalled young Dane again. The man then probed the boy’s wrist with his right finger and thumb. He was expertly searching for the ring of cartilage and bone through which the first vicious spike would be driven for, if located elsewhere, the lad’s weight would tear him free once the cross was erected upright. Having found the spot, the silvery-haired High Priest marked it with a nasty pinch, reddening the skin, and picked up a spike in his left hand and the mallet in the other. It was at such moments that the man appreciated the application of enemas because, without their therapeutic affects, the tribute would surely now disgrace Diabolus by soiling himself.

The spike was placed on the marked spot and the mallet was raised. The High Priest looked into Per’s terrified and tearful eyes, observing the frantic shakes of the young head trying to beg ‘No!’ The man smiled again before landing the first of six agonising blows that would be required to secure the boy’s wrist firmly in place between the nailhead and the wood amidst much spurting of blood. He then moved to the lad’s right arm.

With Per’s upper limbs now agonisingly fixed in place, the High Priest moved to the young Dane’s crossed ankles. The sound of many bones cracking reverberated around the clearing as the third larger spike was bloodily hammered into position. However, the boy’s torment had only just begun for the unbelievable pain that he now experienced in his limbs intensified still further as all six celebrants helped to haul the cross upright and slip the base into the prepared trench. The naked lad fainted as his whole weight was concentrated on the spikes through his wrists.

(Same time Norfolk, England)

Blincoe, furious with himself for being so stupid, had contacted Interpol and hoped that the Danish police would be more efficient than he had been and would be in time to save Per. The DCS had also ordered one of the police helicopters to come to collect him and take him to Norwich airport, where a small plane had been chartered to take him to Copenhagen whilst Burrows returned to the Cotswolds to continue investigations there.

(Same time, Zealand, Denmark)

One of the Priests collected the stepladder from the van and used it to climb into a position from which he could waken Per with cold water from the bucket. Diabolus expected his tributes to be fully conscious to enjoy every agonising moment of their sacrifices.

The High Priest then stood in front of the cross facing the other celebrants whilst he conveyed another sermon, although it was shorter than those conducted in the temple back in England, before turning again to face the crucified tribute. The evil sextet began a brief chant whilst looking at Per, tears streaming down his young face and body whilst he suffered terrible pain and torment. Amazingly but, as the cult members had discovered with their previous victims, not unusually in the circumstances, the boy’s cock remained erect and throbbing.

One of the Priests collected from the van a small black bowl with gold pentagram emblazoned in the middle, in which was resting a small razor-sharp knife with black handle and similar motif. The items were handed to the High Priest who mounted the stepladder, which had remained in place next to the cross. As the man came parallel to Per, he placed the bowl on the top of the ladder and reached out for the young Dane’s genitals with his left hand. Holding the deliciously smooth scrotum firmly in place, the High Priest picked up the knife and introduced it to the middle of the organ, just underneath the base of the rigid horizontal penis. He began the emasculating incision whilst uttering the usual loud incantation of “For our great Satanic lord, Diabolus!” As well as blood, a long white stream of reproductive fluid also now emerged from the 14 years old genitalia. As this was happening and the boy’s testicles were exposed, the clearing was suddenly cast into dark shadow and a whirlwind arrived to send leaves spinning wildly all around. The High Priest was ecstatic for it surely indicated Diabolus’ presence to accept his sacred tribute.

(October 1999, Thimblewick, Cotswolds, England)

Blincoe walked up the aisle of Thimblewick church, empty apart from himself and the man in clerical garb kneeling before the altar in front of him. As the DCS approached, the tear-stained silvery haired man turned to see whose footsteps had disturbed his prayers and the tranquillity of his surroundings. He then stood to face the policeman.

Blincoe and Quigly momentarily looked at each other without saying a word before the latter, whilst wiping his stubby nose, broke the silence with a sigh and an invitation. “Let’s speak over a cup of tea!”

The duo soon found themselves in the vicarage parlour, in the same seats as during their previous meeting here. “The vipers used me,” declared the still tearful Quigly, “whilst they were up to their evil ends. How could they? How could I have not suspected? The rector, the choirmaster and all the choir, the organist, the warden, the scoutmasters and a number of their young charges, the organisers of several clubs and societies, including some of the soccer coaches, as well as others more anonymous. All led by that devil Masterston, Vicar of St. Bartholomew’s over at Seddleton on the other side of the parish.”

The DCS let the Reverend proceed without interruption, as he seemed to be seeking some form of absolution from his lament. “I often wondered how Masterston occupied his time, his church having such a tiny congregation, only one officer and no choir. The devil had to infiltrate his own placemen and his evil practices into mine to secure his aims. I always knew that his tales of where he made his own money didn’t somehow ring true. You say that he made his fortune from child pornography and sex tourism when based in Amsterdam and he met most of his cohorts through those activities.”

Blincoe nodded in confirmation. “Well,” continued Quigly, “he certainly seems to have hidden that past well. The bishop tells me that, as far as the Church was concerned, Masterston had an impeccable academic background before he came here a few years ago, with references, both human and paper, to prove it. More of his deviant cronies helping him out, I suppose, especially the awful rector who vouched for him and encouraged his return to the locale where he had grown up. I wonder if his evil stemmed from the rector’s abuse of him when the former was just the choirmaster and the latter a choirboy. Did his deep hatred of Christianity, that caused him to profane and hate its chief symbol so much, to adopt extreme devil worship and kill three boys and maim another, result from the rector’s lechery?” The DCS did not reply but also did not disagree with the vicar’s theory.

“I feel very guilty,” Quigly declared, “about not telling you the truth about the cuckoo clock, that it was a present from Masterston after one of his holidays in Switzerland. At the time, I was annoyed at seemingly being suspected in the crimes and I didn’t want a colleague to suffer similarly.” The vicar’s tears became more fulsome as he added “Per might have been saved from his suffering if I had not been so foolish!” Blincoe again did not disagree, but the detective was sympathetic for he believed that he had been even more culpable. He had compounded his error over the crucifixion site, caused by the fact that the young Dane had been abducted in England, making him believe that the boy would remain in the country, by not investigating Seddleton and its people more closely.

“I’m also sorry,” confessed Quigly, “that I didn’t tell you about my mother’s sudden illness, which made me jump on my bike to go to see her for a few days. I save miles by taking the shortcut along the farmer’s track. However, I panicked when I heard how bad she was as she’s over 80. In fact she never recovered and she was buried two weeks ago.” The vicar’s sobbing overwhelmed him at the sad thought and he could not carry on his monologue for a few minutes, but the DCS maintained his quiet.

When Quigly eventually recovered, he asked “How is Per?” Blincoe spoke at last, replying “Recovering slowly. I’ve just been to see him in hospital in Copenhagen. I’ve more time to do such things since I announced my early retirement from the force as I’m currently on terminal leave.” He did not add that his could still maintain a pleasant lifestyle despite his withdrawal from working life so early because of his substantial occupational pension. “The Danish army helicopter,” he continued, “arrived just in time to frighten off Per’s tormentors and save his life. As you know five of the six would-be murderers were quickly rounded up except for Masterston, who escaped on his motorcycle. We’ve still no trace of the bastard, if you’ll forgive my language, Reverend.” The vicar pretended not to notice the profanity uttered in frustration.

“It’s amazing what medical science can do today,” the policeman announced thankfully; “Per’s wrists are already fine and the piercings are healing. Although it’ll take a number of operations, the boy’s doctors are confident that they can restore his ankles to full working order and there’s talk of plastic surgery to remove those wicked brandmarks. Apparently, it’s too early to say what long-term affect the damage to his genitals will have, and there’s the mental scars to consider as well. However, the lad’s taking everything very bravely.” Blincoe displayed a sparkle in his eyes as he conveyed the last sentence.

Quigly, tears drying, asked a simple one word question “Motives?” “For most,” replied Blincoe, “sex and associated thrills, purely and simply, as none actually seemed to believe in the so called High Priest’s theology. For Masterston, I think there are, as you’ve already hinted, more complex unknown motives. We still don’t know, for example, why the victims had to be handsome 14 years old blue-eyed blonde-haired boys, for none of those we’ve arrested seem to know!” In fact, it was to be over two years before the DCS discovered the answer to this particular quandary.

“I understand,” advised Quigly, “that the poor Swiss boy was actually brought to the Cotswolds to suffer in that terrible so-called temple created within the catacombs of Masterston’s church before being returned to his homeland to be killed.” Blincoe nodded affirmatively before doing the same to the vicar’s next statement “And that everyone contributed to the selection of the victims, studying and enquiring about apparently suitable potential choices, even encouraging parishioners to discuss and show photographs of their families. I don’t think that any of mine will ever again trust anyone sufficiently to do so outside their families. In fact, my congregation has fallen by over three-quarters and the church hall is empty after services. I used to enjoy talking with my flock about their own. Now, I doubt that I shall do so again.”

Blincoe departed from the sad vicarage shortly afterwards. Thimblewick looked a much quieter and more morose place as he drove through the village to make his way back to his own lonely London home. That evening, after microwaving and consuming a rather pitiful ready-meal with a much nicer glass of wine, the former detective opened the large envelope that he had retained as a personal memento of the cross murders. He withdrew his favourite photograph and then began to unzip the fly of his trousers.

It took almost six months for the first of several sensational trials at London’s Old Bailey relating to the cross murders to start, sadly without Masterston who remained on the loose. As a result of the various proceedings, a large number of men were sentenced to life imprisonment or long terms and a smaller number of boys were to be detained ‘at Her Majesty’s pleasure’ or placed in care. Per bravely attended, on crutches, all of the trials as the key witness. His parents accompanied him at first. However, they were eventually happy, because of the resultant serious disruption to their own lives and that of their daughter, to accept the kind offer from the retired detective, whose intuition had saved their son, to accommodate and look after the boy at his London home. After all, they had all become close friends during the man’s many frequent visits to the Danish capital to see how Per was progressing and the boy’s English grandparents had been so traumatised, by his original abduction whilst in their care, that they no longer wanted the responsibility. The lad, who had withdrawn from his circle of his peers, also seemed to revel in the man’s company.

In fact, Per considered Blincoe his hero for being responsible for his salvation. The boy also appreciated the man’s personality for he was very kind and generous, with his time as much as anything else, and was full of interesting detective and other stories, although the lad suspected that some might have been augmented for his amusement. When not required in court, Blincoe would often take his guest on interesting joyful varied excursions to cinemas, museums and art galleries or to see the sights of London and provincial cities and towns, as well as holiday resorts and the countryside.

Per fell in love in particular with the English Lake District. The young Dane was very happy to have recovered from his ordeal sufficiently to be able to throw away his crutches and enjoy the various Lakeland walks with his adult companion, who was invariably full of absorbing anecdotes about the places they visited.

Blincoe himself had never been happier and this was not just because he was in the constant company of a beautiful boy, blossoming even more as he passed his fifteenth birthday. The former detective was delighted to see that both the lad’s physical and mental conditions were gradually recovering from their traumas under his gentle supervision. The duo’s close platonic companionship was only interrupted by court attendances, occasional hospital check-ups, the state-funded personal tutor Per needed to maintain his educational progress and regular reunions with the boy’s family. However, their relationship changed radically just before the last trial was due to finish.

Per had retired to bed, in a bedroom that use to belong to one of his host’s daughters, but, as usual, his temporary guardian had stayed up, ostensibly to watch some television. However, the 15 years old Dane could not sleep and crept back down stairs in his pyjamas, intending to creep up on his adult friend to surprise him. The product of the boy’s action was actually a shock for the two of them for he found the man masturbating whilst looking at a photograph of a naked crucified boy.

The deeply shamed and red-faced Blincoe attempted to cover up what he was doing but realised by the expression on Per’s face that he had been too late. The man tried to mutter an apology and to explain himself but the seemingly initially transfixed silent boy’s reaction to the discovery was not as anticipated.

A large bulge appeared at the front of Per’s pyjamas, mesmerising Blincoe in return. After a short pause, the young Dane began to unbutton his top and remove the cover before quickly slipping off the trousers, revealing himself in just skimpy black briefs with a more profound and defined protuberance on the front. The totally captivated former detective’s cock, still sticking out of his trouser zip but hidden under his hands, quivered vigorously.

Per quietly walked to stand immediately in front of Blincoe before slowly pulling down his briefs. A full erection, emanating from fully restored and still-smooth genitals, popped into view. Having thrown his final garment away, the lad knelt, gently pushed the former detective’s hands to the side and engulfed the man’s own hard penis in his sublime mouth.

(September 2000, somewhere in South America)

Masterston had generally been a good planner. It was why he had personally survived unscathed after committing so many crimes over the years. He had naturally already formulated his escape from Denmark if anything went wrong, although he had been as surprised as anyone to discover that the shadow and whirlwind in the Zealand forest clearing had not been Diabolus but a helicopter. The mad man still had access to a lot of money in secret offshore bank accounts and was now plotting his revenge. The key, despite having failed once, would be finally to deprive Per of his balls and then, very slowly and agonisingly, take the boy’s life.

Masterston was now planning this fresh venture in his luxurious but temporary exile. He did not mind what he had to do or how much he had to spend to secure his aim. After all, an angry and frustrated Diabolus had to be placated.

THE END

of

BLINCOE’S CASEBOOK:- 1) THE CROSS MURDERS

by Pueros

[Look out for the return of Blincoe and Per in ‘Blincoe’s Casebook:- 2) Masterston’s Revenge]