had had nothing to eat for three days. I thought it would be safe because it was still light. As I turned onto Graham Road, a man came up behind me and pushed me into the alleyway at the back of the even-numbered houses. I was unable to call out because he put a hand over my mouth and clamped my arms to my sides in a bear hug before slamming me face first into a fence and using his weight to hold me there. It all happened very fast and there was nothing I could do to break free. I couldn't see his face because he was behind me, but his breath smelled of drink and his clothes smelled unclean. I was wearing trousers and could feel something being pushed between my thighs. I thought it was the man's penis. He had his face pressed against the side of my head and whispered 'slag,' 'bitch' and 'cunt' into my ear. He also said he'd 'do for you proper' if I didn't keep my 'filthy, nigger-loving mouth shut.' He was very strong and I was frightened because I thought he intended to rape me. I believe that is what he wanted me to think. Before releasing me, he forced me to my knees and pushed my head into the mud at the bottom of the fence. He said if I reported what had happened to the police I wouldn't 'get away so lightly next time.' I raised my head to watch him turn the corner into the main road. He was dressed in a dark jacket, blue jeans and sneakers. It was Derek Slater who lives in the neighboring house to where Ann Butts used to be. I know him by sight, although I have never spoken to him. He had disappeared by the time I found the courage to go back onto Graham Road. I saw no one else and went straight home.
MEMO
To: Police Superintendent Hathaway
From: PS Drury
Date: 29.01.79
Subject: Advice re cautioning Mrs. Ranelagh against wasting police time
Sir,
As you know, Mrs. Ranelagh has made a number of accusations against Derek Slater, including: 1) harassing and murdering Ann Butts; 2) making abusive telephone calls to the Ranelagh household in the middle of the night and; 3) attempting to keep Mrs. Ranelagh a prisoner in her own home by loitering outside her front door. None of these accusations stands up to investigation. 1} The inquest verdict on Ann Butts was unequivocal. 2)The Slaters have no telephone-nor do they have access to the Ranelaghs' new ex-directory number. 3) Mrs. Charles at 3 Graham Road-next-door neighbor and friend of Mrs. Ranelagh-denies ever seeing Derek Slater at their end of the street.
There is no evidence that the above incident took place other than Mrs. Ranelagh's word. The clothes she claims to have been wearing are unmarked and unstained-i.e., there are no muddy marks on the knees of her trousers and no semen staining between the thighs.
Despite the aggressive way in which she says she was held 'in a bear hug' and slammed against a fence, her face and arms are unmarked. (N.B.: She waited nineteen hours to report the incident and claimed to have cleaned herself up.)
Mrs. Ranelagh admitted to me that her husband has left her. She is clearly disturbed by Mr. Ranelagh's desertion. She says she phoned him to tell him about the alleged assault and was upset when he accused her of lying. 'He said I'd invented it to make him jealous. I sometimes think the only thing he thinks about is sex.' (N.B.: Mrs. Ranelagh has lost a lot of weight and appears to be anorexic. Also, her behavior is irrational-she breaks off in the middle of a conversation to listen for rats.)
I spoke to Mr. Ranelagh by telephone. He claims his wife is 'bored with being a teacher and is reveling in her fifteen minutes of fame.' According to him, nothing she says can be believed at the moment. I have questioned Derek Slater and he denies being anywhere near Graham Road at 15:00 hours on 24.01.79. He says he was at Kempton Park Races until the early evening and has a ticket stub to support this. He has supplied names and telephone numbers of three friends who were with him-one supports the alibi; two yet to be checked.
Please advise. My personal view is that Mrs. Ranelagh is pursuing a vendetta against Derek Slater because she believes him to be responsible for the death of Ann Butts. I consider this vendetta to be: a) an invention; b) paranoid; and c) strongly linked to shock and/or the failure of her marriage. I strongly recommend an official caution against wasting police time.
*9*
We survived the party wreckage on the terrace the following morning with sore heads and mixed feelings. The boys were savoring last night's success, while Sam and I peered into a black hole as I reminded them all that my parents were due at noon. Luke and Tom, who were both on the afternoon shift at Tesco's, took the news in stride. Forget lunch, they said cheerfully, but as long as dinner was late they'd make an effort to get back for it. Sam, by contrast, crumpled dramatically as if he'd been axed by a pole.
'It's been on the calendar for ages,' I said unsympathetically, handing him a cup of black coffee as he slumped into a chair, 'so don't blame me if you never bother to read it.'
'I don't feel well.'
The boys were immediately solicitous, worried that 'not feeling well' had more to do with Sam's coronary than too much to drink the night before. They fussed about him, staring anxiously into his face and patting him encouragingly on the shoulder as if that would somehow prevent another attack.
Sam eyed me with sudden mischief, as if seeing a way out of a nightmare weekend, so I gave him the Ranelagh glare.
'Don't even think about it,' I warned, massaging my hangover. 'You know my mother. Nothing prevents her turning up. And do not
'Oh God!' he groaned theatrically, sinking his head into his hands. 'She'll
Luke and Tom eyed him curiously, wondering at this sudden reversal in their father's usually sanguine, if never very thrilled, acceptance of his mother-in-law.
'What's up?' asked Luke.
'Nothing,' I said. 'Dad's looking for trouble where it doesn't exist.'
'We could call in sick,' said Tom helpfully. 'I quite like Gran.'
