Two decades of depraved murders force Edward, the Duke of Wellingborough’s second son, to kill for the title's protections: “A taut legal tale masterfully fused with a frightening portrayal of a killer”
–Kirkus Reviews
A Duke’s second son … kidnappings … depraved murders … North Sea boneyard exposed … startling trial at London’s Old Bailey
Edward, the Duke of Wellingborough’s second son, kills for the title and its protections. After two decades of depraved serial murders, Edward errs by preying on a U.S. Senator’s daughter at the Edinburgh Festival in Scotland. A media-blitzed international incident erupts. It triggers a military-type raid on Wellingborough Castle in Northumberland. Helicopters crash. Divers drown. Two decades of perverse killings are exposed in Edward’s North Sea boneyard. A wrongful arrest ends in a dramatic trial at London’s Old Bailey.
Excerpt from The North Sea Killer © Copyright 2025 Dale E. Manolakas
The three divers swam forward in the murky water along the cliff base scattering schools of fish as they advanced. Their fins stirred the sea floor behind them. Following training protocol, they stayed shoulder-to-shoulder and swept their headlamps in a search pattern to cover the largest area beneath and before them. They checked every rocky formation.
On the bridge, the Captain, Johnson, and Austin watched the cam footage.
Johnson observed, “Nothing yet and they’ve a lot of ground to cover.”
The Captain said, “Couldn’t get a second unit experienced enough for this. Near waves crashing into cliffs is always a dangerous assignment and needs skill.”
Johnson took a call from Operational Command.
Austin watched as Johnson staccatoed intermittent Yes, sirs.
Johnson got off and ordered the divers to move faster.
The Captain said, “We’ve got to give them some time.”
“I will, but Operational Command won’t,” Johnson said. “And neither will the storm.”
* * *
On the sea floor, the Lieutenant pinpointed his headlamp on a mound ahead of them. “Stop. That … right there … that’s out of place.”
“Agreed,” the Chief Petty Officer said and ordered the Petty Officer to telescope the videocam to that area.
With the digital record done, the three approached and hovered above with headlamps lasered on the mound.
The Lieutenant radioed. “We found something. A mound inconsistent with the terrain. Do you see it?”
Johnson looked up at the clouds coming in. “Yes, find out what it is. Fast. And then move on. We’re fighting the storm.”
“Yes, sir.” The Lieutenant turned to his unit. “Get that camera up close and keep your lights on it.”
The Lieutenant reached down and swept the silt away into the currents that skimmed along the bottom. A bloated face popped out with shredded eyes and chewed orbits—mouth gagged.
“My God.” The Petty Officer jumped back swallowing the vomit erupting up his throat.
The Chief Petty Officer froze. “What the …”
The Lieutenant held his ground and ordered, “Get control men. Keep the lights fixed. Get that videocam in there for an ID.”
“Yes, sir,” the two automatoned.
“My God,” Austin echoed as he watched the video.
The Captain asked, “Is she identifiable? Is it her?”
Austin said, “It has to be.”
“Too bad,” the Captain said. “She was a pretty lass.”
As the dive unit excavated, long blond hair erupted and pulsed in the current. With minimal visibility in the churning undercurrents, the Petty Officer continued to hold down his rising vomit and kept the videocam recording.
Johnson ordered, “Get that videocam closer in on her face.”
The Lieutenant said, “Yes, sir.”
Austin inspected the video on the Captain’s tablet. “It’s her. That’s Chloe Bridgeport. It fits her description and it’s the right state of decomposition … blond hair.”
There was radio silence as the collective hope for Chloe’s life was shattered.
The Captain spoke first. “We’d better get them up. The storm is here.”
Johnson ordered, “Come on back, Lieutenant. Can you tow the body and get it up? The storm is blowing in. No time for niceties.”
“Yes, sir.”
The Lieutenant straightened Chloe’s legs for transport and stopped. “Sir, there’s a skull under the legs … in pieces.”
“A human skull?”
“Yes, and…wait. What the bloody hell?”
The lieutenant’s headlamp swept by another set of legs near Chloe. The legs were attached to another body of another young woman lying at a right angle. They were the legs of a body more decomposed. Another bloated and chewed up young woman.
The Lieutenant ordered the Chief Petty Officer to help uncover the body and take videos up close.
Johnson asked, “What’s happening, Lieutenant?”
The Lieutenant radioed. “We’ve found another body, sir. Of a woman. A second.”
The Lieutenant moved in for a closer look. Near the second body, his headlamp rested on bones—countless bones. “And there’s bones under it … a lot.”
From the cutter, Johnson said, “Another body? More bones? Human?”
“Yes, sir. It looks like a proper boneyard down here. Do you see it?”
“Not yet.”
The Lieutenant ordered the Petty Officer, “Get that videocam in there.”
“Yes, sir.” This time, the Petty Officer swallowed hard and focused, not on the rotting body, but instead on the bare bones.
Austin watched the videocam. “My God, it is a boneyard … a cemetery.”
The Captain said, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Johnson said, “Who could that second body be?”
Thunder sounded and the Captain said, “We have to get the divers up … now. The storm is here. We’ll leave the bodies.”
“We’ll go back later,” Johnson said.
Johnson saw the dark waves beating against the cliff as the swells pitched the cutter. “Lieutenant, have your unit do a quick sweep of the area with the cam. We have to bring you in … the storm is breaking.”
Austin asked, “Lieutenant, how many dead do you estimate are down there?”
“Too many.”
The Captain stared at the white caps and the Able Seaman bobbing in the dinghy near the cliffs.
He turned to Johnson. “Get them up. Order them up right now.”
Johnson looked out at the mounting sea. “Right. I’ll just give them a minute.”
“No, now. The dinghy can’t hold that position.”
Johnson turned his and radioed down. “Two minutes and up.”
“Yes, sir,” the Lieutenant said.
In those two minutes, the clouds blew in and blacked the wind-battered swells. Whitecaps leaped up. On board the seesawing cutter, the crew braced themselves against the North Sea storm.
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