Basham, Robert F. Clifton [inspirational books to read .TXT] 📗

so Mister Bennett. Do you really expect me to sleep with you just because you bought me a pot of tea?”

“Don't get your arse in an uproar. You got me all wrong sweety. Like I already told you I'm no lout. I'm just someone who's concerned about your safety in these parts of the city. And, call me Alford not mister Bennett.”

“Fine, then let me say thank you Alford. Thank you for the tea and now I'm leaving.”

Just when she stopped speaking the sounds of the air raid sirens began to blare. “The bloody Jerry's are back again. Come with me. We have to get down into the tubes. The nearest one is a block away,” said Bennett.

Mildred followed Alford and the other patrons from the pub and out into the street. Mildred looked at the sky expecting to see the Luftwaffe bombers overhead. There were none. The sirens were an early warning however, that the enemy was on his way. Bennett took the suitcase from Mildred and with his other hand took hers in his and quickened the pace. “We got to get there before the shelter becomes crowded and we're turned away”, he said.

“Don't lose my bag. Everything I own is inside”, she replied.

“Come on. We're almost there.”

Mildred saw the large red circle, a sign that hung over the black, cast iron railing that surrounded the underground entrance to the subway. She also saw the many people who were descending down into the tubes used as air raid shelters. She and Alford quickly walked down the steps and on to the concrete platform. Bennett selected a place near the bend in the tunnel. He placed the suitcase on the floor and Mildred quickly took hold of it.

“The way you protect that bag you must have a lot of brass (money)in it,” he said.

Mildred didn't answer instead she slowly lowered herself and sat down leaning back against the white, tiled wall. As she sat silently she watched the platform quickly fill with men, women, children, the young, the old, the robust, the weak and sickly. Instantly she began searching with her eyes looking for the elderly woman who would need her help this evening. As her eyes darted from one old woman to another the sounds of explosions although muffled by the concrete walls and ceiling of the subway came to those seeking safety.

Somewhere, a young woman with a beautiful voice began to sing. The song was, “A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square.” Mildred listened carefully to the words. “That certain night, the night we met. There was magic abroad in the air, There were angels dining at the Ritz and a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square.” as the woman sang Mildred noticed that the song had a soothing effect on the people crowded together in the shelter.

Suddenly the lights went out leaving everyone in the dark.

Still, the young woman sang and after an instant moan from the crowd they all settled down and listened to the singer.

Like those gathered in the tube Mildred felt a longing for the days before the war. She had a desire for the days before she was arrested, taken to court and then to the hospital.

In the pitch, black, darkness Alford Bennett placed his arm around the shoulders of Mildred and said, “Now, now love. Don't be afraid. Old Alford's here to protect you”. As he spoke he moved a hand off of her shoulder and on to her breast.

“Don't!”, she said.

“Come on Missy, be a little appreciative. How's about a kiss?.' he said leaning his head towards hers. When he did she detected the foul, stale odor of ale on his breath. “I said don't!”, she answered with anger.

“Oh I gets it. You're one of those that likes to tease before nookie. I've seen the likes of you before in my time I have. I also know that you and those like you also like it rough. You probably want me to debag you right here in the dark. If that's the way you wants it then old Alford will provide”, he said as he moved a hand under the hem of her skirt and on to her thigh. His hand stopped moving as his body shook and trembled. The sharp point of the steak knife she had held in her hand sitting in the dark easily penetrated the side of his throat. The serrated blade severed the larynx and the carotid artery. Mildred pushed the dying body away from her. She heard the steady stream of hemorrhaging blood splashing on the concrete floor.

Mildred got to her feet, picked up her suitcase and pocketbook and looked down at the dead body of Alford Bennett. “I said don't. You wouldn't listen would you?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

Criminology One Zero One

 

At exactly nine am, Monday, January 6, 1941, Alistair

Basham stood behind a lectern and looked at the nineteen,

Royal Military Police that made up the class. He knew that all of the students were former professional police officers. Most were from the Metropolitan Police and all were volunteers. With the exception of Major Kilmister who Basham judged to be forty years old the rest of the class was made up of men in their twenties and thirties. Now, they all sat in front of him attired in the khaki uniform of the day, watching him, waiting for him to speak.

“Good morning gentlemen. We all know why we're here together today. As a result I will not bore you with uninteresting details about this course. Frankly, I have no idea what so ever what the British Army intends to do with you at the end of this course of instruction. I assume that information is on a need to know basis. None the less, hopefully, I will teach to the best of my ability and you will learn to the best of your ability. I suggest that you take copious notes as from time to time I will test, exam and more than likely require a paper from each of you. Are there any questions?”

“Yes sir”, asked Major Kilmister.

“Major?”

“May I ask the time duration of the class sir?”

Basham removed his pocket watch, open it, noted the time and placed it on top of the lectern. “Each class will be forty minutes long. There will be two classes a day. It is my understanding that this unit has other daily duties to perform. As a result I have no intentions of disrupting the Armies training schedule. Now, if all of you are ready I suggest you open your notebooks and we will begin. For the record, this course is known as, Criminology One Zero One.

Criminology, a part of the science of sociology involves three different types of problems. The first is detecting the law breaker. Second is the custody and treatment of the offender once he or she is apprehended. Third, and what I consider of great importance is the explanation of crime and criminal behavior. I'll wait while all of you take notes.

Continuing, allow me at this time to bring to your attention that the subject of criminal behavior is generally of interest to the sociologist, the psychologist, the anthropologist and the biologist. I now submit to you that it is of the utmost importance of law enforcement to seek criminal behavior in the course of a criminal investigation. I prefer to call it profiling. Profiling defined is, The act or process of learning information about someone based on what is already known and the act or practice of regarding particular people as more likely to commit crimes because of their appearance, race, traits or tendencies. One might also add the targeting of a person on observed characteristics or behavior.”

*****************

About the same time that Alistair Basham conducted his class at Birkbeck University, Mildred Perkins walked aimlessly on the littered sidewalks of East London. On the other side of the street she saw a young mother pushing a perambulator. On top of the infant inside was a pile of clothing. Behind the young mother two little girls followed, each carrying a bundle of whatever they could salvage from their bombed out home. Like Mildred they didn't know where they were going.

Tired, due to lack of sleep in the underground shelter Mildred saw a concrete stairway still standing although the apartment house that it was once attached to was demolished. She head for it and upon reaching it sat down and rested. As she sat there with heavy, drooping, eyes people walked by. Some not seeing her were absorbed in their own plight. Some stopped and looked at her making sure that she wasn't ill or injured. Assured that she was alright they continued their own journey hoping that at the end of it the government would provide relief, namely housing, a place to get out of the wet and cold. A place to sleep.

Mildred dozed off.

A light rain falling at dusk woke her. She blinked and saw that the moving line of people was shorter now. She stood up, gathered her belongings and after stepping off of the concrete staircase that now led to no where she joined those heading west, out of East London. Fine rain drops fell on her wetting her hat-less head. She was cold and needed a heavy winter coat. In the January weather she wore a short, spring jacket, one she found at Haven Manor the night she left. She staggered then stopped and leaned against a telephone pole as a bout of dizziness came over her. She hadn't had anything to eat in almost two days. Her last cup of tea was the one she had at the Fife and Drum.

As she stood fighting the feeling of being lightheaded she felt a hand on her shoulder and a voice saying, “Are you alright girl?”

Mildred turned and saw a woman about her own age. “I'm sorry, I've been having dizzy spells just recently.” she said.

“When was the last time you had something to eat?, asked the stranger.

“Two days ago as I recall.”

“There you go. We have to get some nourishment in you. Come with me. The Salvation Army has set up a tent in the park up ahead. We'll get you out of the cold and a bowl of hot soup in your tummy. Soon you'll be as fit as a fiddle.”

Mildred allowed the woman to take and carry her suitcase as together thy walked towards the small, city park when the Salvation Army had established an aid station.

***************

Back at the classroom at Birkbeck University Alistair Basham stopped speaking. He took a sip of water from the full glass he kept on a shelf located on the backside of the lectern. After swallowing and taking care of the dry throat condition he began to lecture again. “Now, there are two schools of thought when one deals with criminology. The first is the Classical School. The Classical School maintains the theory that punishment has the ability to be a deterrent. The second is the Positive School which takes the view that punishment should be replaced by a scientific treatment of criminals that figures to protect society. At this time may I say that the Positive School has controlled American criminological thinking. This school finds supporters in most of the sciences, some being, biology, psychiatry, psychology, and quite naturally, sociology. Each of these sciences applies its concepts to the study of the criminal.

Nonetheless the criminologist looks for the etiology or cause if you will in crime and in behavior systems rather than in legal systems. The question gentlemen, one that I will eventually present to you is, which school is correct?

Before any of you form an opinion let me first give you a history lesson. It deals with the Classical School used here in England. I take you now to Eighteen Century Britain and in particular, death or hanging offenses. At that time anyone found guilty of stealing as much as a handkerchief, a sheep or the sum of one shilling could be executed. Here,