Justice Waited

I am sorry to those of you who have read this before but if you see the previous entry, you will see why I am re-posting.

 

Her name was Nora.  She owned and ran a ladies and babies wear shop in a small market town just a very short car ride from where we live.

Every Tuesday morning my mother and I would visit the open-air market and browse around.  Afterwards we would go into the back street where Nora's shop was located. We would have a cup of tea or coffee and then wander over to Nora's shop to see her latest stock.  She was a lovely lady, coming up to retirement age in a couple of years, quiet but with a sense of humour.  She was much loved in the town and regarded very highly.  She gave service of the old-fashioned kind.  If you wanted something specific then she would do her hardest to get it for you.

On bad weather days, we would still go there and she would offer us a cup of tea and we would sit in her shop and chat and put the world to rights. We considered her a friend.  As she sold babywear, I bought many items there when Becky was born and Nora was delighted to see Becky and watch her progress.

The town is ancient and its narrow streets do not allow for the parking of cars so all vehicles had to and still have to be put in the central car park.

Then came that awful day in 1978 when we heard that Nora had been murdered.

I do not know the full circumstances.  It was a cold November day. Nora had closed the shop as usual.  She lived above the shop and so she must have decided to go somewhere or visit someone.  She headed the little distance to get her car in the car park.  She never made it.  Somewhere in those few yards she was to meet her killer. They found her the next morning. She had been raped and bludgeoned to death.

All the local communities were horrified and fearful.  Did her killer know her?  Even more scary, did we know him?  For months women were afraid to go out at night.  In those first few weeks the police were everywhere, interviewing people, doing house-to-house checks, following up alibis. They centred their enquiries very much around a local public house, the police were sure it was a regular drinker there but could find no evidence.  I myself used to visit this pub on a weekly  basis and I might have sat right next to the culprit.

Time passed. Weeks turned to months and months into years. The killer was not found.  Life went on as life has to go on.  The Essex police did not forget.  In the intervening years science had moved on, especially forensic science and damning evidence had been safely stored away.  The police decided to re-open this "cold case".  After twenty-seven years it seemed a daunting task.  However, they now had DNA.

The person responsible was apprehended because of a routine driving offence.  Whilst he was in custody a mouth swab was taken and having been run through all the normal checks it proved to match with the evidence left on Nora's body.

The trial has been running these last few weeks.  Yesterday a fifty year old builder who lived in a little village just close by was found guilty and sentenced to life in prison which in this case is to mean at least twenty-three years.  He was a married man with young children at the time of the murder. It was subsequently revealed that he had previously been in prison for sexually molesting a two year old child.

There are no winners in a case like this.  His family have to live with the crime he committed and the stigma of being related to a murderer.  His elderly mother refuses to believe her son was responsible. She says the police were just looking for a scapegoat.  Forensic evidence says otherwise.

I am just glad that Nora's killer was caught and will serve his sentence.  That closure has been put upon it.  That Nora's husband has seen the killer receive his retribution. I will never forget her.

Justice waited a long time, justice waited twenty-seven years. He must have thought he had got away with it, the perfect crime.  He went on living his life and enjoying his life. I wonder if he ever re-lived in his mind that cold November night all those years ago when Nora fought desperately for her life on a patch of waste ground in a quiet little town.

Justice has, at last, been served.