Page 4 - As the Cold Wind Blows Mark Jones

most colourful and feisty characters. In fear, the majority of people soon took themselves off to

bed, almost begging the night for mercy and to see daylight once again.

But at the house almost central to the village and looking right across a wide area including
that where Imelda was so severely butchered, a man in his early seventies by the name of
Howard Beckford continued to watch, expecting something else to happen, something that he

had seen soon after Mabel’s death. Howard, a quiet and reserved former naval officer with
more than thirty years of combat service under his belt, didn’t scare easily. He was determined

and angry, so much so that he began a one man vigil at his window overlooking the village on
a nightly basis in search of the truth. ‘What the hell,’ he thought, ‘gives those people the right

to just drive alongside that poor unfortunate girl and without any feeling throw her into the back
of such a strange and fearsome-looking automobile?’ It was a repeat of what had happened

with Mabel. Howard, murmuring, paced the room. ‘It’s not right and not normal practice.’

Howard had grown to hate nightfall as Silwall was spooky enough during daylight hours.

Late autumn, early winter time as it was, proved to be a terrible torment for everyone living
there. A fearless and corrosive presence stifled the night in the small village and Howard

Beckford was about to take his life in his hands and investigate what he called the phantom
drone company. Howard believed them to be a secret sect that were planning something evil

and downright malicious, not only for Silwall but for the entire world.

After a sleepless, thoughtful night, the lone soldier Howard sat up in bed and looked across
the room towards the dawn light breaking through the darkness. He didn’t want to look
outside, afraid of meeting the glance of a drone figure. His thoughts turned to finding help in

his quest, but it needed to be the right kind of help; someone, he thought, whom he could trust
implicitly. Howard sat at the kitchen table and drew up a shortlist of hopeful candidates as he

sipped his tea, taking all angles of his chosen subjects’ qualities into careful consideration.
Howard wasn’t leaving anything to chance. On his list was the name of Minnie Law, and
Howard believed her to be capable and astute enough to work alongside him. He had known

Min for many years and felt that she could help him discover who was behind the deaths of
Mabel and Imelda.

Howard’s mind was made up. ‘I won’t phone her, it’s better if I visit. There will be less

chance of being tracked’.

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