The window cleaning ticket murder - A true story

The Window Cleaning Ticket Murder

This is the true story of the murder of Daphne Torrock and was written with a play on words.

The whole of the village crawled with Police as I went about my business. I had a good vantage point and I could look down on them as they came and went. I was for all intents and purposes, invisible.

It's not as though I could not be seen at all and indeed, I did not attempt to hide myself. Yet I still remained invisible. I could see in the reflection of the glass the incident vehicle surrounded by the police, the coroner and the crime scene investigators as well as some of the public.

Something terrible had happened in the village, a village I knew well and what was about to unfold, was an atrocity that had not occurred in this village before nor perhaps would ever occur again.

Still apparently invisible, I was able to remove my equipment and a set of ladders from the scene without anyone noticing me. It was amazing that I was just able to drive away without being challenged. I breathed a sigh of relief.

It's not as though I felt guilty or anything and as I drove home wondering just how I was able to drive away from a crime scene looking as nonchalant as any normal person could.

For several weeks, there were no knocks on my door, no phone calls or inquiries whatsoever. It was not as though I was expecting them as the true horror of a person that I had known and shared thoughts and small talk with, for years, lay brutally murdered in her bedroom.

I had met Daphne some years before. Even my wife knew her and sometimes I would talk and would be invited into her house. It was a typical cottage and Daphne had that certain taste that only someone who had really "lived" could have expressed in its decor in such a delightful way. Daphne was an easy-going character but had a dark side to her and would often be away in London. I would not see her for a while and then she would just turn up with a friend. I wondered who these men were and I looked upon them with disdain and suspicion.

Crime Watch is one of those programme's that you either love or you hate. For me I was not averse to watching it and indeed on this particular night I knew the net was closing in. Daphne's body was discovered by her cleaner who I also knew. Of course it was a heinous crime. Strangulation and the plastic bag just to make sure was of course a callous thing to do. The question kept entering my head over and over, "why, why?" Life in this village was never going to be the same again.

For days on end I pondered about whether I should phone in to Crime Watch or just the local police station. Could I, would I? I just could not bring myself to do it. I knew nothing, nothing at all and that's how it would stay.

Weeks passed, things died down and it all blew over. I hadn't even been questioned and nobody had been arrested. I was in a way disappointed, almost angry that I had been overlooked. I ventured into the village again as normal, the police long gone the incident van just visible as a patch of lighter grass where it had been parked. The crime unsolved.

I could see Daphne's house just down the hill. The soul of the house was missing, empty quiet and lonely. I had no need to go to the house anymore. It was then with a start, I knew that I had left some evidence behind me. Surely they had found it, they must have found it. It was impossible not to have been found and indeed it was damning evidence in the form of a small slip of paper. My finger prints were on this scrap of paper, this I knew. It could only be a matter of time surely? Yet still, I remained invisible.

Several years passed and I had cause to visit a Policeman's house in the course of my business. I asked how the Daphne Torrock case was coming on. He said that there was a suspect. I was not tense in any way. The suspect was Moroccan and the authorities were waiting to extradite him. Ah, a suspect, one from Daphne's shady past, one that had also been in the house. Was there evidence to connect him with the crime.

After I had carried out the work that the Policeman required, I left a small piece of paper. It was identical to the one that I had left in Daphne's house before that fatal day. Had I made a mistake?

The next time I called on the Policeman, he knew exactly who I was and even knew my name, my whole history. Did it make me nervous? No I was calm. How could I remain so calm in the face of such an abhorrent crime?

The answer is simple. I knew nothing of Daphne's murder until I saw it on Crime Watch. I was invisible because everyone knew who I was. No one thought to question me as I went about my business. You see I was invisible because I was always there right in front of everybody, part of the scenery, Mr anonymous. Did I have any relevant information about the crime? No I did not and I had nothing to do with it. The Moroccan was extradited and was eventually jailed for the murder of Daphne Torrock, the evidence overwhelming.

You see, on that small piece of paper I'd left in Daphne's house that day were written the words; "Windows Cleaned Today".

For much more on what happened in my life take a look at my book for more surprising incidents by clicking on this link for a FREE preview and free look inside my book Running for Home.

Other books by this author include the time travel novel called "Inside the Clock" which is based on a true story and in which the reader must decide whether or not that the author actually traveled back in time or not? "Inside the Clock"