.png)
The Winden Ridge Tales
A Dead Woman's Ambition
Chapter Three
They did not hurry revenge. They intentionally allowed time to pass between each act, which helped keep them beyond suspicion.
​
There were several men in the frame for brutalising Lizzie. Her husband was the first to lose his life. Lizzie’s dying mother confessed to that one and the two younger women agreed there and then others would be punished as well.
​
Lizzie first confided in Lydia a few months before her mother’s death. Lydia lived in the row of cottages on the opposite side of the road and the two women often saw each other come and go.
They waved briefly, almost shyly, to each other. The occasional wave then became a brief ‘hello’ or ‘good evening’.
It was a stroke of luck that introduced Lydia to Lizzie’s life when a delivery driver knocked on her door. He stood holding a small parcel and explained he couldn’t get a response at Lydia’s door. No one on either side seemed at home. So could Lizzie accept the parcel and pass it on?
Usually, Lizzie would have politely refused. She never liked to have contact with strangers if it wasn’t necessary. But this time she surprised herself and she happily took the parcel. She watched Lydia’s front door for the next two hours and when her neighbour returned, Lizzie hurried across the road and tapped on the door.
Lydia greeted Lizzie, parcel in hand, smiling at her. ‘Hi.’
‘Hi,’ blurted Lizzie. ‘A delivery man left this and asked me to pass it on to you.’ She held out her arm. Lydia took the parcel and Lizzie turned to leave.
‘Wait a sec,’ said Lydia. ‘You’re Lizzie, aren’t you?’
Lizzie turned back to face her. ‘Yes, I am.’
‘
Come in.’ she stood aside, inviting Lizzie to pass. ‘Please, I get little company, let alone female. I’ve often noticed you, but we’re only on waving terms, aren’t we?’ She smiled warmly. ‘I’m Lydia.’
And from that moment, the two were inseparable. In time, Lizzie’s trust of Lydia surpassed anything she had ever shared with anyone, even her mother. One day, Lydia knocked on Lizzie’s door. She stood motionless. She had a bruised eye, dried blood around her mouth, and was weeping. Lizzie took her inside and held her tightly in her arms. ‘Oh, no, not you too,’ she whispered.
Gradually, the two women shared their stories. The similarities made them kindred spirits, soul sisters — call them what you will — and created a bond so strong it survived for the rest of their lives.
Eventually, Lydia said, ‘We must do something. We must put this right.’
Lizzie was sure about one man. He had come home with The Brute one winter’s evening. They had taken it in turns to hold her down while the other violated her. She had ceased to struggle because doing so lessened her injuries.
Without a doubt, she knew who he was, but as for the others her husband shared her with, she wasn’t so clear.
‘Why not?’ asked Lydia. ‘Have you shut things away in your mind? It wouldn’t be unusual because of how terrible this all is. We block things, don’t we?’
Lizzie shook her head. ‘No, nothing like that.’ Lizzie put her hands to her face. When she pulled them away, there were tears streaming down her cheeks. ‘They blindfolded me.’
‘Who did?’ Lydia almost screamed.
‘
Him! He came home drunk as always and struck me so hard I almost fainted. He dragged me upstairs and then put a knife to my face. I was so frightened I didn’t know what to do. I suppose I just got used to it and didn’t fight enough. Then he tied my hands to the bed frame and blindfolded me. Next thing is I can hear voices, men coming up the stairs. Lots of heavy feet banging on the floor.’
‘
Oh no!’ screamed Lydia. ‘Oh no, no.!’
‘
I don’t know how long they were all there in the house, but I counted five of them, at least.’
Lydia put her arms around Lizzie. ‘No more, no more. I don’t need to know any more. Not now. It can wait.’ She wiped tears from Lizzie’s face and looked into her eyes. ‘Oh Lizzie, my darling. My poor Lizzie.’
But Lizzie continued. She needed to tell someone. ‘My husband went first. The others held my legs apart. He didn’t hold back. Showing off, I guess.’
‘
The next was big and bloated and stank of animals. After that was a skinny guy who stank and had rough hands. I think I know who that was, but I’m not totally sure. I heard the next one speak and recognised his voice straight away.’
‘
There was one who didn’t do it. I heard them goading him. They called him vile names, but then they jeered and swore a lot because I think he did himself while he watched.
Anyway, they left me to clear up, didn’t they?’She paused for a moment and stared straight ahead. She drew a long breath and then said, ‘The last one was different.
​
He shouted at the others to turn me over and when he pushed into me, it really hurt. I mean, he hurt me so much, it hurt for weeks. He was so big and so violent.’
Lydia stroked Lizzie’s head and wiped her cheeks again. She was distraught because Lizzie was so matter of fact, so cold, so numb. ‘My poor Lizzie. So brave.’
‘And his aftershave,’ added Lizzie. ‘It was so strong. So sickly.’
Lydia fell silent. She turned Lizzie’s face towards hers and kissed her lightly on the lips. Lizzie responded. After a minute, they moved slightly apart from each other.
‘So,’ asked Lydia. ‘Where do we begin?’
They began by giving their targets false names and never wrote their true identities on any notebook or scrap of paper. They agreed on their list after much detective work and some knowledge of The Brute’s circle of drinking friends.
But who was the man who came home with Lizzie’s husband one winter evening? Lydia’s question received a swift response.
His brother-in-law. ‘We’ll call him Fred,’ suggested Lydia.
‘Why Fred?’ asked Lizzie.
‘Because it rhymes with dead.’
‘So how about Dead Fred?’ suggested Lizzie.
Dead Fred lived in Lower Winden with his wife, Debra. She was the only grieving relative of the late Brute.
Lydia and Lizzie arrived at their house one morning, shortly after Debra left to take the children to school, and then travel to the nearby town by bus. There she would busy herself with shopping as frugally as possible at the market.
And the two women arrived just as Dead Fred was settling down to do nothing for another day. Dead Fred had a reputation for being skilled at avoiding work. He was more than a little surprised to find his visitors at the door. So reliant was he on booze and drugs that he barely remembered violating Lizzie.
His visitors smiled at him. Lydia did the talking.
‘How long will Debra be out?’
Dead Fred looked flummoxed. ‘Er, all morning, I’d say. Why?’
‘That’s good.’ Lydia pushed past him and Lizzie followed.
Dead Fred closed the door behind them and turned. ‘Is it? Good, I mean.’
‘Oh yes,’ exclaimed Lydia, as both women pulled off her coats. They were wearing jeans and tee shirts, but strangely, Dead Fred noticed, they were also wearing gloves.
Unsure of what was going on, he tried to act cool. ‘So, what can I do for you two young ladies?’
‘The thing is,’ explained Lydia, ‘we’re both – now how can I put this – we’re both admirers from afar,’ she glanced at Lizzie, ‘and we’re feeling more than a little horny. It must be the time of year.’ She beamed at him and then at Lizzie. ‘Isn’t it, Lizzie?’
‘Oh yes, absolutely.’ Lizzie nodded enthusiastically.
Dead Fred’s mouth fell open with astonishment. Lydia ploughed on. ‘So, we thought about it and as you’re home most of the time, with nothing to do, and perhaps a little bored, we’d ask if you can sort our problem for us.’
‘So, what would you like me to do?’ asked Dead Fred.
Lydia looked serious. ‘Take your clothes off.’
He would not argue, because lust overcame him in an instant. He felt a surge of surprise and excitement. It would be the excitement that Lizzie and Lydia noticed first.
Dead Fred was naked and unresponsive on the sofa when his wife arrived home early in the afternoon. Someone had stabbed his torso many times and then mutilated him. The mutilation was obviously sexual.
But the investigation team, which arrived soon after, found no trace of Dead Fred’s manhood anywhere in the house.
In fact, they never found it anywhere, and they never found the killer.