Killing Through
The Glass Ceiling

By

Harry Dodgson

Copyright 2012 by Harry Dodgson
Smashwords Edition





Chapter 1

"You didn't get the job because you're a woman."
"That doesn't surprise me," Jennifer said. "What have you heard?" 
Her friend Margaret was a secretary in the sales director's office and saw a lot of confidential documents and emails. Although she wouldn't normally tell her anything that was confidential, she often did give Jennifer snippets of interesting information.
Throughout her life from junior school to her time at university and in her work, Jennifer had encountered sexual prejudice at all levels. It had always annoyed her that because she was a woman her work had to be twice as good as that of a man only to be considered half as good. Eventually she reluctantly accepted it was there. There was nothing she could do about it.
"I was in the director's office and overheard Walter Jameson, the managing director telling the sales director about your application for the job of manager of research and new product development. He said he was baffled, he couldn't fathom why you chose the career you did. He thought you should do secretarial work, or be a nurse. Even work in a crèche; occupations that sensible women follow. He could never understand why a woman would even want to become an engineer. It takes a man's mind to do a man's job. At times it was necessary to inspire employees, make hard decisions, perhaps fire people. It isn’t something a woman could do well. He went on and on. I know how you feel, they treat me the same way,” Margaret said. "I'm just a female, a secretary, I don't count, I'm invisible. When they walk into a room where I am they don't see me. I'm part of the furniture so they just chatter away as though I'm not there." 
"So what are they going to do?" Jennifer said. "Where are they going to find someone to fill the post? They'll find very few candidates in Australia qualified to manage a high tech. electronics laboratory."
"They're planning on spending a lot of money, advertising heavily in the national press and locally," Margaret said. "Also they will commission head hunters to find the man they want. I know that the head-hunting companies are not cheap, they take a fee equivalent to four or five months salary of the man the company hires." 
"Don't they know they have someone suitable already employed in the company?" 
Margaret shrugged. "They know your record, you've been working here long enough, they know your qualifications, they’ve seen your CV. Face it Jennifer, you're a woman, what else do you expect?"
"I'd like to see them taught a lesson," Jennifer said bitterly. "I'd like to see them fail to find anyone for the job."
"So would I," Margaret said. "In the five years I've worked for Western Electronics there's been two occasions when they've advertised for an administrative manager for the sales department, I've applied for the job each time and always some man has been brought in from outside. Each one has had less experience than I and hasn't lasted very long, but they never learn. They go through the same hoops over and over again." 
"What qualifications are they asking of applicants, more particularly what experience of managing a research lab are they expecting of applicants?"
Margaret shrugged. "I don't really know. Someone mentioned a PhD in electronic engineering with a couple of years experience managing a lab, plus extensive knowledge of the industry."
"All of which I have and more..."Jennifer broke off as the phone on her desk rang.
She picked up the phone. "Jennifer Aspinall speaking," she said.
"This is Janet Thomson, secretary to Mr Alfred Johnson, human resources," a prim sounding female voice said. "Mr Johnson wants you to see him in his office at 9.30 tomorrow morning."
"Whatever he wants to see me about, why can't he tell me over the phone?" Jennifer asked. "I am rather busy." 
She was mystified as to why the personnel manager should want to see her.
"He'll tell you when he sees you," the voice said. "9.30 Sharp." Then the phone went silent.
She told Margaret the gist of the phone call she had received.
 "Do you know anything of this?"
"No, I've heard nothing about the personnel manager. I seldom have reason to go into his department. But it seems there will be major changes in the company. There have been many discussions behind closed doors. Also several directors have made mysterious trips overseas, mostly to China and Korea. I've asked some of the director's secretaries what's happening. They are not talking but there are strong rumours about major cutbacks in staff."
"If that's true it's hard to understand," Jennifer said. "You work in the sales department and know that sales are high. I know for a fact the company is doing very well. I spend a lot of time in the assembly line getting new products into production. The production department's been on overtime for weeks now. Their output is up and has been for some time. The company is quite profitable."
The following morning Jennifer walked into the personnel offices. It was a small office with three desks, each with a secretary sitting behind it. A middle aged woman busily writing in a small notebook occupied the desk nearest to the door. The three women were chatting to each other as they worked. The receptionist looked up as Ronda as she appeared in the doorway.
"Can I help you?" she said, a wide smile on her face.
"I'm Jennifer Aspinall. I have a 9.30 appointment with Mr Johnson." 
The smile disappeared, the woman's eyes lowered as she turned away. For some reason she couldn't meet Jennifer's eyes.
When Jennifer mentioned her name the chatter in the room between the other two women in the office stopped suddenly as they both found something else they had to do urgently.
"Ah yes, I'll tell him you are here," the woman said. "Please take a seat."
She got up, walking to a door on the other side of the room. She tapped on the door then opened it. She stood in the open doorway talking to someone inside the room. Jennifer could hear a mumbled conversation but couldn't distinguish the words. After a few moments the woman came back then sat down on her chair.
"He won't keep you long."
As Jennifer waited she noted the other women in the room had their eyes averted. None of them looked at her. No one spoke, everyone was too busy with something or other. After ten minutes Jennifer was certain he was deliberately keeping her waiting. Pointedly looking at her watch she stood up.
"Will he be much longer?" she said sharply. "I also have work to do. He made the appointment but if he's too busy to keep it he can make another one for some other time."
"I'll remind him you're here," the woman said.
She got up and walked again to the same closed door on the opposite side of the room. Tapping somewhat nervously on the door she opened it. Standing in the doorway she spoke to the same person in the room. Leaving the door open she spoke to Jennifer.
"Mr Johnson will see you now. Please come this way," she said, motioning Jennifer to enter.
"Ms Aspinall is here," she said to the occupant. When Jennifer entered the room she left closing the door behind her.
As Jennifer walked into the office a short, overweight man looked up briefly from his chair behind the desk. "Please sit down," he said brusquely, waving a hand vaguely towards the chair in front of the desk. 
He didn’t speak for several seconds. He fidgeting with the pens on the desk arranging them neatly in a row. Jennifer noted he was avoiding eye contact with her. He seemed reluctant to speak.
"Ms Aspinall, I'm afraid I have bad news. There is no easy way to put this, but the company has decided to dispense with your services."
Jennifer couldn't believe what she was hearing. She leant forward across the desk. "You're firing me?" she said slowly in a tone of disbelief. "Why? What have I done?"
She sat up as the thought struck her. "Is this something to do with my application for the job of manager of research and development?"
"No, nothing like that at all. We are not firing you, the company is experiencing some difficulties and so is downsizing in some areas. We are re-organising the research department which is overstaffed at this time. So, being surplus to requirements we regret we must let you go. You will be adequately recompensed of course. You will receive two years pay as compensation. This is more than fair. Certainly it is far more than government recommendations."
Jennifer banged her fist on the desk. "To hell with your compensation and your mealy mouthed platitudes," she snapped. "If you are overstaffed why are you planning to hire a new manager of research and development. The same job I applied for? Is that why you're firing me? How many other employees are you getting rid of?"
"I don't know the details of the company's future plans," he blustered. "You'll have to ask Mr Jameson, the managing director."
"Who is conveniently overseas," Jennifer said. "You are the personnel manager and you know the company's future plans. You know exactly what is happening."
Johnson shrugged, "I'm sorry, I don't. There's nothing I can do. I must ask you to vacate your office immediately, this morning. Security is waiting in your office. As soon as you've cleared your desk you will be escorted to the exit. Your severance pay etc will be sent to you within two days."
"Again, you're a liar, and a hypocrite," Jennifer snapped as she rose. Leaving the office she slammed the door behind her. She didn't turn round as she heard the glass panel in the door shatter. The three women behind their desks stared open mouthed at her as she stormed across the office floor, slamming the door as she left.
In her office a security man was waiting for her. She simmered with anger as she put her few personal items in a bag. She knew there were some other electronics companies in the town she could apply to for a job. But she was aware that not many would have the potential to offer her the type of work on which she had worked so hard. She had high qualifications in electronic engineering. Plus extensive knowledge of the cellular phone industry worldwide. She was personally acquainted with many key cellular personnel, not only in Australia but throughout the communications industry internationally. She knew she was in a position few men could aspire to.
There was nothing she could do for the moment so gathering her few personal possessions, she left the office to drive back to her lonely apartment.
It was early evening the same day, Jennifer was thinking of taking a hot soaking bath before looking in the fridge to find something for her dinner. She had just entered the bathroom when the front door bell rang. Pressing the intercom button on the security system the screen showed it was Margaret at the entrance to the apartment block. 
"Come in," she said into the intercom as she pressed the button to open the door.
"Coffee? Or would you like something stronger?" she asked as Margaret came into the room. "Do you have a reason for the visit, or is it to offer commiserations?" 
"One question at a time," Margaret replied as she sat down on the settee, putting her bag on the floor. 
"Something stronger please, gin and tonic will suffice for starters. First the important question. There's a rumour going round the office that you've left, is this true, if so why, and so suddenly? Secondly, I haven't seen you all day so please tell me why you need commiserations?
"I'm afraid it's true. I have been retrenched. As Johnson in personnel put it, the company is downsizing with adequate compensation to those affected. They have no idea how I feel about this nor do they care. Nor what would I consider adequate compensation. Are you staying for dinner? I haven't done any shopping so can't offer much."
"I was afraid it was true so I came to invite you to dinner. You can cry on my shoulder if you like."
"I'll accept the invitation to dinner, but I won't cry. At the moment I don't know what I'm going to do, but crying is not an option. Enjoy your drink, it won't take a moment for me to change."
When Jennifer went into the bedroom to get changed, Margaret followed her.
 "It's possible that before long I might be crying on your shoulder," Margaret said. "It seems your sudden leaving opened the mouths of some of the girls in the director's offices. No firm details as yet but the word is that there'll be a lot more retrenchments. Mine included most probably. In fact it I have a strong suspicion that almost the entire company will be closing soon."
Jennifer stopped, staring at her. "What do you mean by almost the entire company?"
"It seems the production is to be closed and all manufacturing to be in China. The only facilities to remain here will be the director's offices plus the sales administrative office and the research and development laboratory. However they are still going ahead to appoint a laboratory manager who will liaise with the manufacturing plant in China."
Jennifer pulled a wry face. "China-I should have known. Manufacturing costs there are less than a quarter of what they are in this country. Profit is the only thing that matters, not people. No one takes the long term view, nor do they think of the people who will be out of work. I wonder how long it will be before the research is moved to China and the entire Australian plant has disappeared?"
"I don't know," Margaret said. "But I do know that once production is lost this country will lose the technology. They'll never get it back. Over the past few decades it's happened in aircraft, shipbuilding and many other industries. Even when, and I do think the day will eventually come, when China gets too expensive or perhaps closes its doors to the western world, then what do they do then? Move it to India or some other third world country. In any event I don't think they will have the expertise in the future to resume manufacturing in this country"
Jennifer was deep in thought, she had hardly heard her. "I wonder how many male engineers they will find that are qualified enough to respond to the advertisements; five, six. I doubt there'll be even that many."
"I don't know. Why do you ask?"
"I think I will find out," Jennifer said.
"How do you think you can do that? And what do you intend to do if you do find out how many will reply?"
"I'm not sure...yet. But what would the company do if they didn't get any replies. They couldn't hire one then, could they? That would serve them right."
"Jennifer, you can't stop them."
Jennifer gave a short laugh. "Don't be too sure of that. They might even come back to me with their tails between their legs, asking me to accept the job."

Chapter 2

Three days later, it was late in the afternoon, shortly before the company was due to close for the day. The reception area was quiet with only one security man on duty in the foyer. Wearing nondescript clothing and a scarf covering her hair Ronda walked in the front door. She knew that at this time most of the security staff would be on the upper floors. It was a strict company rule that all confidential files had to be in locked cabinets 15 minutes before the company closed for the day. The security men were there to ensure that this rule was carried out.
She stood by the notice board ostensibly reading the notices but watching the security man through lowered eyes. When he was looking the other way she quickly walked towards an unmarked door near the elevators. Opening it she entered, closing it behind her.
Two years ago she had been responsible for the design and installation of the company security system. She knew the position of each camera but more importantly, she also knew all the blind spots. She knew that the door she had just entered was not covered by a camera. She also knew there was no camera inside the room.
Opening one of the cupboards alongside one of the walls she took out some cleaners overalls, putting them on.
She was standing by the sink making a cup of coffee when the door opened.
"Hello, you must be new, I'm Nancy, in charge of this squad," a middle aged woman stood in the doorway. "They didn't tell me I'd have a new girl today. Never mind I’ll keep you busy. What's your name? Can you pour me a cup, two sugars please?"
Half an hour later Jennifer emerged from the cupboard in the midst of a group of women all wearing identical overalls. Always keeping her face averted and lowered when passing a security camera, Jennifer carried a bucket and broom as she walked with the group of cleaners entering the management offices. She was the last to leave the offices of the personnel manager and the managing director. When she did in each telephone was a miniature radio transmitter.
The security men watched the chattering cleaning staff as they left the building. Entering or leaving, they never counted how many of them there were. As Jennifer knew, they always assumed that anyone wearing the cleaning company's uniform was a bone-fide employee.
The following morning Jennifer parked her car in the street next to the security fence surrounding the factory premises. The offices were less than one hundred yards away inside a high wire fence. Well within the range of the transmitting devices she had installed. She switched on the receiver and tape recorder hidden in the boot of the car. The multi-channel receiver would receive and record every word spoken in any of the offices and every telephone conversation. To save recording long silent stretches when no one was speaking Jennifer had installed a voice operated switch which turned the recorder on only when the transmitters were sending voice conversations.
Locking the car door she boarded a passing bus into the city centre to do some shopping. She was confident that when she returned late in the afternoon, the tape recorder would have stored every word uttered in the offices and on the phones. 
For the next few days the she took recordings of the office conversations. Then in the evenings she listened to the tapes as she ate a lonely meal in her apartment. There was little to interest her until on the third night when she heard the voice of the Managing Director. He had returned from his trip to China and was discussing the results with the personnel manager Charles Johnson.
After he had relayed details of the new factory he asked if there were any results from the advertisements for a manager for the research laboratory.
"There has," the personnel manager, Charles Johnson replied. "Its early days, but we have received a couple of applications that are quite interesting. I do expect others within the next few days. I'll write to the most suitable applicants and set up interviews. There is one that merits particular attention, a Michael Youngman. He seems to be exactly what we need, plus he has a really interesting employment record."
That evening Jennifer visited the factory again wearing the cleaner's uniform. Mingling with the cleaning people as before she walked brazenly into the offices. Working slowly she made sure she was the last person in the personnel managers office. 
"Hurry up," the supervisor snapped at her. "We have a time limit on this job. Finish as soon as possible then join the rest in the other offices and don't be long."
"I'll be there in a second." Jennifer replied. When she was alone she made sure the door was closed then switched on the copier. Then she took out of her pocket the keys she had omitted to hand in when she left the company. Opening the filing cabinet labelled ‘Applications’ she quickly found the employment applications. Copying them and returning them to the filing cabinet didn’t take long. Putting the copies in her pocket she turned the copier off as she left the office.
Back in her apartment she made herself a quick meal and then sat in front of the fire studying the applications. The only one that she thought worth considering was the one that Charles Johnson had mentioned. A Michael Youngman aged 32; he had a good university degree with some experience in managing an electronic design lab.
 "Yes," she thought to herself. "He is well qualified, has had some experience, he hasn’t as much as I have. Nor does he mention his contacts in the telecommunications industry. But yes I think he could get the job. How many more are there out there like him?"
She looked at his photograph for several minutes. He was fairly good looking with a sultry almost sulky look. She was slightly disappointed to see that he was married. Had he been single she would have gone out of her way to make his acquaintance. In that event she knew how she would have persuaded him. She was looking forward to meeting him anyway. Jennifer put the documents in a drawer then went to bed.
At 8.30 the following morning she drove to the same spot near the factory leaving her car with the tape recorder switched on. Then took a bus to the suburb where her father lived. 
"Hello dad," she called as she let herself into the house.
"Hi Jennifer, I'm on the patio, there's hot coffee in the kitchen," she heard his reply.
Walking on to the patio with a coffee mug in her hand, she gave her father a quick peck as she passed his chair. "How are you dad? You look a little down," she said, sitting in the chair facing him. "Is anything the matter?"
"Only boredom. I've had six months of it now," he replied. "Since I left the police force I find I have little to do. I hate housework, I'm not interested in gardening nor do I intend to go into security work. The men I used to work with come around occasionally but that's getting less and less frequently. No one wants to know you when you're past it, put out to grass."
"For some years you've been talking about visiting relatives in England, your sister and brother. Why don't you do that? You haven't seen them in years. There's certainly nothing stopping you."
"I don't know where my passport is," he muttered. "Anyway it's probably expired now."
"Dad, you're just making excuses. I think I know where it is. I'll get it for you."
Jennifer put her cup down and went into the house then into the bedroom her father had shared with her mother. Kneeling in front of a chest of drawers she pulled the bottom drawer open. Then she lifted out the linen that had lain untouched in the drawer since her mother had passed away three years ago. At the bottom of the drawer was the item she was seeking, an old biscuit tin. Taking the tin out she placed it on the floor. As she had expected her father's passport was amongst the documents in the tin. 
She closed the tin then as she leant forward to replace it in the drawer her knuckles caught on something hard. She reached underneath the linen and pulled out the object. 
She knelt there looking at the gun in her hand, staring at it for several seconds. Snapping open the magazine she stared at the brass cartridges. The gun was fully loaded.
She caught her breath. She was aware that her father would have handed in his service pistol when he had retired from the police force. He was unlikely to have or even want a licence to keep a gun in the house. In any event a gun has to be kept in a locked, steel cupboard. Something her father knew very well. He could be in serious trouble if it became known he had it. 
The only thing she could imagine was that several years ago he had confiscated it from a criminal then forgotten it. She knew some police officers did that occasionally. She also knew that if the gun had been used in some crime in the past the police would have a record of the ballistic characteristics from the bullets. Her father could be in very serious trouble at some time in the future. The best thing she could do to help her father was to say nothing but just get rid of it, perhaps drop it in the harbour, he would never know.
Taking the gun and the passport, she dropped the gun into her handbag as she went through the kitchen onto the patio.
"Here's your passport and it hasn't expired," she said, putting the passport on the table. "Now you have no excuse not to go."
 Two days later. It was late in the afternoon when she sat in her car in a quiet, upper class suburban street. There was no people or cars in sight although she expected that could change in the next thirty minutes. This was a popular commuter area and soon the commuters would start arriving at the local rail station. As the station was within easy walking distance, it was most likely that several of the commuters lived in this street and would soon be walking home from the station.
The residents in this street certainly valued their privacy. Trees and high hedges hid the houses from the casual view of passers-by. There wasn't any movement, the street slept in the afternoon sunshine. The only other car in sight was a hundred yards away but it was empty, the owners probably in a nearby house. A few yards along the street was gap in the hedge. A gateway she had walked past several times earlier in the day. It was a typically tidy suburban garden and house; with neatly arranged flower beds. It had white painted window frames with frilly net curtains and a brightly polished brass door knocker. It was Michael Youngman's house.
 From her position across the road she could clearly see the front door. She had been waiting less than ten minutes when a man came walking down the street she recognised immediately. It was the man she was waiting for-Michael Youngman. 
Carrying his briefcase Michael Youngman looked the typical suburban office worker coming home. However Jennifer knew he wasn't a clerical worker, he was a highly qualified electronic engineer, and the reason she had lost her job. She watched as he opened the garden gate, closing it carefully behind him. He turned towards the house fumbling in his pocket for his key. He hadn't reached the door when it opened and an attractive woman in her late twenties stood waiting for him. He pecked her on the check as he entered the house. The woman stood on the doorstep for several seconds staring at Jennifer's car. Then she followed him into the house, shutting the door behind her.  
Jennifer sat in the car for several seconds, thinking. 
The next time she came she would have a word with him and then go to the harbour bridge. It would be dark by the time she got there so no one would see her throw the gun into the water.
Starting the engine she drove off.


Chapter 3

Jennifer drove into the same quiet street, parking in the same spot she had parked in a couple of days ago, switching the engine off she picked up a magazine to read from the seat beside her. She knew that Michael Youngman would be on the 3.45 pm train from the city. He was an inveterate early riser and preferred to start work early. 6 am was normal Jennifer had learnt in a phone call to his office. He preferred to travel home earlier than most commuters as the trains were less congested. She knew he usually arrived in the street about 4 pm. in just twelve minutes time. 
She planned to accost him in the street and plead with him not to accept the lab manager's job. She would tell him of the company's planned move. How they had retrenched their staff in their rush to increase profits even further, and how it would cause hardship to so many.
She was reading an article in the magazine when, feeling she was about to sneeze reached for her handbag placing it on her lap. As she put her hand in the bag for a handkerchief the passenger door across from her burst open. 
"Why don't you leave him alone. Leave us alone," a voice shouted
Startled, she looked up to see Youngman's wife had opened the door on the passenger side of the car. With an angry look on her face she was leaning forward with much of her body in the doorway. What frightened Jennifer was the large knife in her hand, and she was pointing it at her.
"What do you mean?" what was this woman talking about Jennifer thought wildly. What can I say to calm her down. 
"You know damn well what I mean. I’m talking out your affair with my Michael." 
The woman waved the knife in her face. Jennifer drew back as far as she could, pressing against the car door.
"I'm not having an affair with Michael, I’ve never even spoken to him, I don't know him."
"Liar. Why have you been hanging around here? You’ve been waiting for him the past couple of days?" The woman lunged forward again. 
"Leave us alone, go away," she waved the knife even nearer. “We don’t want you.”
Without her realizing it, when Jennifer's hand came out of the handbag it was holding the gun and pointing it in the direction of the woman. Startled and terrified at the sight of the gun, Youngman’s wife jerked backwards to get out of the car doorway.
The woman's sudden movement made the car rock violently which in turn made Jennifer jump. Her hand jerked and the gun went off with the loudest bang she had ever heard. The noise was so loud it made her ears ring. It seemed to echo forever in the confined interior of the car. She stared in horror as the woman quickly moved backwards. Finally falling face up onto the pavement with her arms outstretched. 
With the gun still in her hand a panic stricken Jennifer got out of the car rushing around to stand over the woman. She stood unable to move, frantically thinking what she should do. She bent down to see her more clearly. The woman looked dead, but should she call an ambulance just in case she wasn't? Jennifer expected to see blood everywhere but the only sign of anything wrong with the woman was a black hole in the centre of her forehead and the staring wide open eyes.
"You've killed my wife," she looked up sharply as she heard the screaming voice. 
Michael Youngman was just yards away running towards her. Jennifer stood staring, unable to move. Without warning he threw the briefcase at her. Instinctively Jennifer ducked and the briefcase flew over her head. However the involuntarily movement caused her to pull the trigger. The gun banged again. 
Michael Youngman stopped to slowly fall forwards onto the pavement. He lay with his head resting on his wife's stomach as though going to sleep. His briefcase had burst open as it fell a couple of yards away behind her, the contents falling out on to the ground. Jennifer stood transfixed. Watching as the breeze carried sheets of paper up the street. 
With an effort Jennifer pulled herself together and stared at the two bodies. In terror she looked around the street expecting to see the neighbours pouring out of the houses. Everything was quiet, there wasn't a soul in sight. It was as though nothing had happened and two dead bodies on the footpath was a normal event in this neighbourhood.
She stood frozen for several seconds, then pulling herself together she ran around the car and getting into the driver's seat. She never remembered the drive back to her apartment. 
In her apartment she switched on the television, staring unseeing at the set until the evening news programme started. When the announcer related some scant details of a shooting she tensed expecting the usual media dramatisation. She was astounded when very little mention was made of the two deaths.
Jennifer spent a sleepless night. Dreading a thunderous knocking on her door as the police came to arrest her. Not wishing to be arrested in her nightdress she didn't even undress for bed, laying on the bed fully clothed. Eventually she managed a few snatches of sleep.
She got up as dawn broke, switching on the television for the early news channel.
She was just in time for the first news section. The television announcer gave a short run down of the shooting giving very little details. Then started to interview a police spokeswoman.
Jennifer reached for the remote control turning the sound up, listening avidly. She knew what she was about to hear, a description of her and her car. This would be followed with the announcement of a nationwide search. Finally she would say that a warrant had been issued for her arrest.
She sat mesmerised watching as the police woman came into view on the screen describing the killings as an attempt to rob Michal Youngman. They suspected that the thief thought Mr Youngman had valuables in his briefcase. This theory was reinforced by the fact that his wife had gone to his aid with a large knife only to join him in death. Whereas in fact the briefcase contained only technical documents of no value to anyone except Mr Youngman.
The police spokeswoman then said the assailant was most certainly a man known as Walter Dimendo. He was a habitual criminal who had recently escaped from prison and who was known to carry a gun. He had been seen in a nearby street that afternoon. Late in the evening the police found him hiding in a warehouse by the river. During the gun battle that followed he had jumped or fallen into the river and drowned. His body was recovered but the gun used to kill Mr Youngman was not found. It was presumed to have fallen into the river. It was then revealed that, according to a ballistic report the bullets used to kill Mr. Youngman were from the same gun that had been used in a robbery several years ago when two men were killed. It is thought at the time that Walter Dimendo had carried out the shooting but they had been unable to find sufficient evidence to arrest him. 
Switching the television off as the news bulletin ended Jennifer was drained of energy. She sat motionless for a long time, it had been a narrow escape. She determined that as soon as possible she would throw the gun into Sydney Harbour. Later in the evening she would go for a walk on the harbour bridge, lean on the parapet to admire the view then drop the gun in the water far below to be lost forever. The event of the previous day was unfortunate but Youngman would not be able take the position of laboratory manager. Now the company would stop and think perhaps the directors would change their mind about China, even offer her the job.
It was on a Saturday, the following week when, as she got out of the shower in the morning, the doorbell rang. When she saw it was Margaret she pressed the buzzer to open the door for her.
"Hi Jennifer," Margaret was very breezy this morning. "I haven't seen you for almost a week. Have you found a new interest, a new job perhaps?"
"No, I've just been busy. Did you read in the paper, the engineer that had applied for the job, how he was killed in a street robbery?"
Margaret had a puzzled look on her face. "How did you know it was the man who had applied for the job?"
"I must have read it in the paper, or seen it on TV."
"I read the papers too, I know they mentioned that he worked for an electronics company, but none mentioned that he had applied for a job at Western Electronics. How would they know that, or even care?"
Jennifer knew she'd made a mistake, it would be better to change the subject.
"Has any announcement been made of moving the company production to China, and has anyone else been retrenched?" she said.
"No, but the management have talked a great deal about the shooting. It was unfortunate but nothing to do with them and they saw no reason to change their planes, the move to China is still going ahead unchanged. Quite a few people overheard them so now it's an open secret," Margaret said. "The result is that everyone is frantically looking for another job."
"Including you?"
"Including me. Not that there are many these days. I've already sent out a dozen resumes, not a single word in response. That seems to be the norm these days."
Jennifer pulled a face. "Only a dozen? I've sent out over thirty. The best result I've had has been a couple of letters thanking me for applying, but nothing else. The problem with several of the vacancies I've applied for so far is that I am, as some have put it, over-qualified for the job."
As she spoke Jennifer realized she had also made a second mistake, she hadn't continued recording conversations in the offices of the directors so didn't know whether they had changed their plans or were going ahead as though nothing had happened. Nor did she know if there was any further applicants. She had wrongly assumed that Youngman's death would give them pause for thought, obviously it hadn't.

Chapter 4

For the next few days Jennifer parked her car in the usual spot outside the offices of Western Electronics, switching her recording equipment on before catching the bus into the city, listening to the recordings each evening. It wasn't long before she heard the details of the next most favourable applicant, a Roger Grayson.
The following morning at a few minutes past nine, picked up the phone and referring to the notes she had made, dialled a number asking to speak to Mr Grayson.
That evening Jennifer parked her car in the restaurant car park, watching the people entering. At the appointed time she saw the single man enter. She entered a few minutes later. Standing at the entrance, she looked around the room as though looking for someone.
"Can I help you madam?" the head waiter stood in front of her.
"I have arranged to meet a friend but I don't see her." Jennifer said.
"Perhaps madam, you would like to sit and enjoy a drink whilst waiting for your friend. Possibly she has been held up in traffic. I believe there has been an accident on the freeway which could be the reason your friend is late."
"Yes," Jennifer said. "I expect that's right." 
"This way madam," the waiter led her to a table, a few seconds later returning, placing a glass of wine in front of her. "With the compliments of the house madam."
From her table she had a good view of her quarry. For some minutes he sat sizing him up. He sat sipping a glass of something, now and again looking at his watch. He appeared to be a decent person, perhaps a direct approach would be the way to go.
She stood up and walked towards his table.
"Mr Grayson?"
He half rose in his chair. "Yes,"
"My name is Jennifer Aspinall, I phoned you about Western Electronics, may I sit down?"
 Without waiting for a reply Jennifer sat opposite him.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise but didn't say anything.
"I need to speak to you about Western Electronics and your application for the job as research manager. I am here to ask you not to take it."
His eyebrows went even higher, a frown creasing his face. 
"Why ever not? It's a good job and I need the money. I have a family to provide for. Is there some reason I shouldn't take the job?"
He didn't speak as Jennifer told him of the company's plans to move the factory to China and the hardship it would cause many people.
"I'm sorry to hear that but I can't help," he said. "It's everyone for themselves these days. As I said I have a family to look after. I have already applied and if I am offered the job I will take it"
Jennifer was at a complete loss for words. She stood up and stormed out of the restaurant. She sat in her car to cool down before driving off. Starting the car she drove across the car park. Just before the exit she saw him. The car park had been full when he'd arrived and he had had to leave his car in the street. He was walking diagonally across the road to where he had left his car.
Jennifer gave a long blast on the car horn. When he turned his head slightly she knew he had heard it but he would ignore it. 
Sudden anger flooded her. Intending to frighten him she steered the car towards the grass verge then put her foot down on the accelerator. The car leapt forward, the engine roaring.
She intended to miss him by a couple of feet. It would scare the daylights out of him but he would know she was angry.
He heard the roar of the engine then turned and saw it racing towards him. In the headlights she could see the frightened look on his face. 
"Serve you right, you self centred bastard," she screamed aloud. 
She hadn't anticipated that the car would skid on the wet grass verge, spinning out of control towards him. He leapt sideways to avoid the car but the lights must have confused him. He jumped the wrong way, directly in front of the car. She heard the bang as he collided with it, felt the lurch as the wheels ran over him.
She stood on the road looking down at the body. As she walked uncertainly back to her car she saw the shattered glass on the ground from her headlights. Then saw the dent in the front wing. She knew the police would start looking for the car that had killed him. Most likely their first act would be to send notices to all the car repairers in the town. They would inform them of the incident and that the police must be informed of any green cars, the same make as hers, with damage to the lights and body.
After parking the car in the garage at her apartment she sipped coffee as she thought of her options. She could leave the car in the garage, no one would see it if she left it in the dark corner. Eventually however she knew she would have to do something about it. Also her friends would ask why she wasn't driving her car.
 Then she recalled her cousin Henry. He was a panel beater and owned a car body repair shop in Dubbo two hundred miles away. The police would not be likely to look for damaged cars so far away immediately. She was sure Henry would repair her car and wouldn't question any story she gave as to how it had been damaged.
The following morning she got up before the sun rose, had a hurried breakfast then went to her car, setting off on the long drive to Dubbo. 
It was late morning when she neared the edge of the town, parking on the hard shoulder. She carefully looked around to verify there were no cars in sight or any houses that could oversee her. Then, fastening the safety belt tight she drove forward until the car was ten yards from a large tree. Shutting her eyes, she pressed her foot on the accelerator, bracing herself for the crash.
The noise of the car hitting the tree wasn't as startling as she expected, nor was the jolting forward. The seatbelt held her firmly. What she hadn't anticipated was the operation of the airbag. With a loud noise it suddenly blew into her face, the sudden noise frightening her. She screamed as the material grazed her face.
She sat still shaking; the ticking of the car engine as it cooled was loud in the silence. After several minutes when she had calmed down, she slowly got out of the car walking unsteadily around it to examine the damage. Exactly as planned, the damaged front of the car was now even more dented. The headlight was now completely gone with broken glass on the road. She took out her mobile dialling a number.
"Henry, this is Jennifer, I've had an accident, can you help me?"
She gave Henry details of her location, then sat in the car to await his arrival. Almost immediately a local farmer and his wife stopped to see if they could help her. They were very sympathetic to her story of skidding on the road and hitting the tree. They left when Jennifer explained she had called a breakdown service and would be OK. She was very nervous of the local police arriving before Henry towed the car away. With their experience of traffic accidents they might realize there wasn't enough glass on the road. They could recall this later when one of them read the reports of a hit and run in Sydney and conclude the lights had been broken elsewhere.
Telling Henry a story of being in Dubbo for a business meeting and that she had to get back to Sydney very urgently after the meeting, she obtained from him a promise to have the car repaired that day. After Henry dropped her off in the town centre, she headed off to a local hotel for a rest. True to his word Henry had the repaired car delivered to her late that afternoon. 
That evening Jennifer considered who else might also apply for the job. There were possibly engineers who hadn't heard about the vacancy, but who would apply when they saw the advertisements in the newspapers. She didn't really know how many there would be. Perhaps there was one way she could find out. She could place advertisements herself.
Two days later an advertisement appeared in the morning paper for an electronics engineer. The qualifications required from an applicant were precisely those her previous employer was seeking.
Collecting the replies from the newspaper office several days later, Jennifer was surprised to have over a dozen letters handed to her. Opening them in the privacy of her apartment she soon realized that most of them were from people who hadn't the qualifications or experience. These wouldn't even rate an interview she tossed into the bin, leaving four that merited further consideration.
Jennifer's spent the morning driving around town looking at their houses. She thought could tell a lot from a house. At each one she would park for a while looking at the state of the house and garden. If the garden was overgrown and untidy and the house in need of paint, she would come to the conclusion that the man and tidy and disorganised, he wouldn't be much opposition. However if everything was neat and tidy, then the man will be worth looking at further. The first potential applicants she decided to look at first was a J. Thomas, who had a very neat garden with a very neat house recently painted. Jennifer would see him that day.
After lunch she drove to the street where J. Thomas lived, parking just outside the gate. Arriving at the front door she pressed the doorbell. The door opened very quickly and a dark haired woman, perhaps in her mid thirties stood looking at her.
"Yes, Can I help you?"
"Hello, my name is Jennifer, I used to work at Western Electronics, I understand that a Mr J Thomas of this address recently applied for the job of research and development manager. Perhaps this was your husband, is this correct?"  
"I'm afraid that wasn't from Mister J. Thomas," the woman said. "It was a Mrs Jane Thomas, that's me. And I don’t have a husband. What can I do for you, would you like to come in?"
Jennifer thought quickly, she hadn't allowed for another female engineer, and if her experience with the company's sexual intolerance was anything to go by, Jane Thomas wouldn't get very far with her application. 
Over a cup of tea Jennifer told her off her experience when she'd applied, Jane was horrified saying she would reconsider her application. Jennifer left the house some time later quite satisfied she had scuppered this potential opposition.
There was only one further applicant worth considering, Walter Hendricks. According to its application letter he was well qualified with considerable experience. She had seen his house and it was reasonably well looked after. Jennifer intended to see him before the end of the week.
It was late afternoon when Jennifer returned to her apartment. She was tired and looking forward to having a cup of coffee followed by a warm relaxing bath. She hadn't been in the apartment ten minutes when the door bell rang. Seeing on the video security screen it was her friend Margaret, she pressed the button to allow her to enter the apartment building.
"Come in," she said.
"Have you found a job yet? Margaret asked as she entered the apartment.
"No, I've been somewhat... busy. What about you?"
"No I haven't, but there is some good news." Jennifer saw that Margaret had a wide smile on her face and was bursting to tell her something.
"Come on then, out with it," Jennifer said. "You look like the cat that got the canary." 
"I'm getting married," Margaret held her left hand out for Jennifer to inspect the diamond ring.
"Congratulations, who is the lucky man then, do I know him?"
"I don't think so, his name is Gerald Newcombe. I've known him for some time but it's only recently that things became serious. I'd like you to meet him, why do you join us for dinner tonight?"
"I'd love to," Jennifer said. "I've been so busy I didn't manage to get a decent lunch and I'm starving."
"I'm meeting him in an hour at that Italian restaurant, you know the one where we used to have lunch occasionally, we can go together."
An hour later the two women walked into the restaurant. As the maitre D approached them Margaret waved to someone in the restaurant. Taking Jennifer by the arm Margaret guided her to a table at the far side of the room where two men were seated. Both men stood up as Margaret and Jennifer approached.
One of the men stepped forward holding out his arms Margaret. As she neared the put his arms around her and kissed her.
"Jennifer, I'd like you to meet my fiancé Gerald," she turned to him. "This in my good friend Jennifer."
"Hello Jennifer," he turned to indicate the second man. "I'd like to introduce a very good friend of mine, William."
"Hello Jennifer, please call me Bill." He said holding his hand out.
At the end of the evening, Jennifer had decided Bill was the most interesting man she'd ever met. He could talk at length on almost any subject, and he was the best dancer Jennifer had ever known. She was quite impressed by him. She hadn’t realized how lonely she’d become.
As the evening ended Jennifer was greatly relieved when, in the taxi taking the four of them home he suggested they meet again for dinner the following Saturday.
"I'm afraid we can't," Gerald said. "Margaret and I had planned to drive to my parents for the weekend."
Bill turned to Jennifer. "Would you have dinner with me one evening, say next Tuesday?"
"Yes I will, I'd love to."
"If you'll give me your phone number I'll call you to arrange to pick you up."
The following Tuesday, after picking her up in a taxi, he took her to the same restaurant.
"What do you do for a living Jennifer?" He asked as the waiter served their main course.
"I am an electronic design engineer." 
He looked up in surprise, he seemed unable to speak for a second. "Now that is a coincidence,"
"Why is that?"
"I've just been appointed managing director of an electronics company. And we are looking for an electronic design engineer to be in charge of the design department."
Jennifer's mind snapped into high gear, what was he up to?
"Which company is that?" Jennifer asked. After leaving Western Electronics she had made enquiries at every electronics company for miles around. As far as she knew there wasn’t another electronics company that would have such a requirement. 
"Western Electronics, surely you've heard of us. We have a large factory in the south of the town. It’s in the industrial estate."
She sat upright with a jerk. She slammed her knife and fork on the table with a loud noise.
"What is this? A joke? If so it's in very bad taste," she snapped.
"Why do you mean? A joke, I'm not joking."
"And of course you didn't know I used to work for western Electronics. Neither did you know that I was retrenched when I applied for the job of research manager."
Bill stared at her. "I assure you I had no idea. I've was appointed managing director only two weeks ago. I never heard your name before Margaret introduced us a few days ago."
"I don't believe you."
"What can I say? It's perfectly true." 
He reached into his pocket and taking out some business cards, passed one to her.
"This is my business card. See for yourself."
"What happened to Walter Jameson, the previous managing director?"
"He died of a heart attack. It was totally unexpected and in view of the changes within the company the shareholders felt they had to replace him as soon as possible. I was elected to the managing director job."
Jennifer was silent. He sounded genuine. It could be true. She had been so intent on potential applicants she had omitted to keep track of changes within the company management.
"So what are you doing to find the right person for the job?" She asked.
"The normal things, newspaper advertising, and we've also engaged a firm of head-hunters. We should get a fair result from all this." 
"And what if you get a reply from someone who does hold the qualifications you need but is a woman?"
"I don't care if the person we select is male or female, black or white or has two heads. The only criteria is their ability to do the job."
"Why can't I apply?"
He looked at her with a puzzled look. "There's no reason you can't. You say have worked for the company in the past so you will know the company and employees. I also presume you have good qualifications and wide experience. In which case you will have quite an advantage over the other candidates. Better the devil you know..."
The following Saturday Jennifer accepted an invitation to dinner at his apartment. She was liked Bill and realized she could become quite fond of him. She was looking forward to a very pleasant evening. She spent quite some time in preparation, buying a new dress and spending most of the afternoon at the hairdressers.
He picked her up in a taxi taking her to his apartment. After hanging up her coat he showed her into the sitting room.
"Would you like a drink?" he asked.
"Yes please, gin and tonic."
As he reached for the bottle the sound of a telephone shrilled through the apartment.
"Damn," he said. "I was hoping to have no phone calls. I'll take it in the study; try to get rid of them. I’ll be as quick as I can. Would you pour yourself a drink Jennifer? Please excuse me. "
With that he left the room going down a short corridor. Going into a room he pulled the door behind him, leaving it ajar. A few seconds later Jennifer could hear a faint rumble of conversation.
Jennifer poured herself a drink then sat in an armchair by the fire with her glass in her hand. She immediately thought Bill would like a drink. She put her glass on the coffee table and pouring a glass of wine walked out of the room towards the study, her footsteps making no noise on the carpet. As she neared the partially open study door his voice speaking on the phone was very clear.
"I've been a little busy these past few days. Did you hear I've got a new girlfriend?"
There was a slight pause while he listened to the person on the other end.
"She's quite a stunner. Although well qualified in electronics she isn't very bright."
Jennifer stood stock still. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. She stood motionless, listening.
"She is staying for dinner. I’ll give her lots of wine during the meal and one or two brandies afterwards. She won't be able to say no. Then it's into bed we go. It's a piece of cake."
He stood listening, laughing now and again.
"Yes," he continued into the phone. "She's very keen on the job as research manager. I told her I think she is well qualified. I'm going to promise her the job during dinner tonight. I'll drag it out for three or four weeks whilst I get her into bed a few times. Then I'll spin her some yarn, probably tell her the other directors are somewhat reluctant to employ her. Then I’ll say they've settled on some man without my knowledge. She'll believe it, then I'll get rid of her."
Once again he stood listening to the person on the other end of the phone.
"I quite agree, Simon Wilkinson is the right person for the job. I have arranged for the personnel manager to write to next week him offering him the job."
Ronda was unable to move, becoming more furious every second. She took a step forward intending to tell him what she thought of him, throw the drink in his face. Then she stopped. He deserved more than that. Turning back to the sitting room she placed his glass back on the table. She sat in the armchair fuming. She needed time to plan her revenge.
She got up walking to the door, intending to confront him in the study. She stopped as she saw him in the hall walking towards her.
 "I'm sorry for the interruption," he said as he entered the room, a wide grin on his face. "It was an international business call. We shouldn't be interrupted from now on. Shall we go into the dining room?"
He picked up his glass turning towards the dining room; Jennifer following him.
Jennifer couldn’t hold herself back.
"You are a lying pig," Jennifer shouted, shaking her fist at him."I heard every word you said on the phone. Not very bright am I? If you think you will get me into your bed, think again."
She clenched her fist then hit him hard on the side of his face. The sharp sound sounded loud in the small room. Jennifer almost laughed at the amazed expression on his face as he stepped backwards. She moved forward and hit him again with her other hand. He put his hands up to ward off the blows, his glass falling behind his shoulder, Jennifer heard it shatter. Then he then fell backwards as he tripped on the carpet.
"Let that be a lesson to you," Jennifer said harshly as she bent over him. In the subdued lighting she couldn't see clearly but could hear a gurgling noise. Jennifer thought he was choking on the drink but he didn't move as she bent down for a closer look. He laying on his back his eyes staring, his body twitching. Reaching towards a small table Jennifer switched on a light. She knelt beside him, intending to help him to sit up. She saw he had fallen on to the glass he had dropped and it was now sticking in the left side of his neck from which blood was flowing fast. Reaching for his wrist to feel his pulse she realized it had stopped. He was dead.

Chapter 5

Returning to the sitting room Jennifer sat considering whether she should have called an ambulance. However she knew he would have died long before one could arrive. She thought how everyone she had spoken to about the job had died, none was her fault. Not even the shooting of Youngman and his wife, but awkward questions could be asked. Afraid that she would be blamed for this death she quickly washed the glass she had been using, putting it in the cupboard with the other glasses. With the tea towel she wiped everything she had touched. Picking up her bag she left the house pulling the door closed behind her.
The following morning Jennifer sat by the window lost in thought. Not only had her efforts been in vain but people had died, perhaps she should reconsider her ambitions. There were other jobs she could do, electronic design engineering was not the end of the world. Seeing a movement out of the corner of her eye, she looked into the street to see a car slowing down, stopping outside the apartment block. 
Two men got out of the car looking around the street, then both of them looked up at her window. Jennifer knew who they were when one of them pointed to the green car parked nearby, her car. They both walked over to it, examining it, paying close attention to the front light. Then one of them laughed at something the other one said. Then both turned towards the apartment entrance. They were police, had they finally come to arrest her, was this the end of the road for her.
She didn't stir when the bell rang on the intercom, nor when it rang again. When they rang the third time she knew they wouldn’t go away, she rose slowly. She had no option but to face the music. She pressed the button to open the apartment block door. When they arrived at her front door she opened the door on the first knock.
She stood in the open door looking from one of them to the other. 
"Yes?" She said.
Simultaneously they both held out identification cards. "We are police officers," one of them said. "I am detective constable Harris and this is detective Sergeant Watkins."
"What can I do for you?" 
"We need to speak to you," detective Sergeant Watkins said. "May we come in?"
Jennifer stood to one side, silently pointing to the sitting room door.
In the sitting room they both turned towards her.
"Please sit down," Jennifer said as she sat in a chair facing them." How can I help you?"
Detective Constable Harris took out his notebook. "We are investigating a series of murders of electronic engineers. Apparently there is a serial killer targeting engineers. We have compiled a list of such engineers living in this town, engineers such as yourself. We're here to warn you to be careful. It is possible that as an engineer you may become a target."
Jennifer felt relief wash over her, they hadn't come to arrest her, they had come to warn her. It was difficult for her not to burst out laughing.
"Have you had any strange experiences recently?" Detective Sergeant Watkins said. "Any threats, perhaps accosted by a stranger. Have you had any unusual telephone calls?"
Jennifer shook her head. "No, nothing at all."
Detective Constable Harris held a sheet of paper out to her. "This is a list of engineers we know of that live in this town. Do you know any of them?"
The list wasn't that long, perhaps two dozen names, a few of them she knew having worked with them in the past. She noted the name of Youngman and Grayson wasn't on the list.
"I know a few of them, some that are or were employed by Western Electronics at the time I was."
She pointed them out to the detectives.
Detective Sergeant Watkins felt in his pocket and took out a business card. "Please take my card and if there is anything that worries you, or anything unusual happens, please don't hesitate to contact me."
Both men stood up and walking towards the door. "Thank you very much for taking the trouble to come and warn me," Jennifer said.
In the hallway they both turned. "Thank you." Detective Sergeant Watkins said. 
Shutting the door as they walked away, Jennifer leant against it with her eyes closed, she felt weak with the relief. It was several minutes before she had the strength to move.
Jennifer slowly stirred her coffee as she mulled over in her mind the events that had occurred since leaving the company. She had now lost all the enthusiasm she had once held for the job of research manager. Her world now was completely different now. Even her best friend Margaret, now happily married, rarely came to see her. When she did her conversation was almost entirely on the forthcoming birth of her baby.
Hearing the slap of something falling to the floor in the hall, Jennifer went to investigate the noise, only to see it was some envelopes the postman had pushed through the letterbox.
Picking them up Jennifer riffled through them. The bills she threw on to the sideboard, the obvious garbage mail she dropped unopened into the bin. She sat at the kitchen table to open the last letter which bore the name and address of the sender, Western Electronics.
Picking up a kitchen knife Jennifer slit the envelope open. Taking out a single sheet of paper Jennifer read the letter twice before she could believe her eyes. The letter was from her ex-employer, Western Electronics. The new managing director had been elected by the shareholders and was a woman. She had written that she had reviewed Jennifer's experience with the company and was offering her the job of director of research and development. 
She threw the letter on the table uncertain of her own feelings. She had won the battle but after all this effort should she take it? Could she do it, knowing as she did, her work would not benefit the people who had lost their jobs. Knowing it would be benefit the foreign country and the nameless shareholders of the company, no she couldn't. She didn't know what she was going to do in the future but it whatever she decided, it would have nothing to do with electronics. From now on her life would be totally different.
Later that day Jennifer sat in the local park watching some children to feed the ducks on the small lake. She hardly noticed when the man came to sit next to her.
"Are you Jennifer Aspinall?"
Jennifer jumped at the unexpected, harsh voice. She turned to look at him. She saw a man in his thirties with thick glasses. His dark hair was plastered back and he was wearing a dark coloured raincoat.
"Who are you?" Jennifer said. “What do you want?”
She didn't like the look of him and was somewhat nervous. She prepared herself to leap to her feet and run if he tried anything.
"I am Kenneth Hendricks, but my name is immaterial," the man said. "What is relevant is who you are. You are to be the director of the research and development department of Western Electronics aren't you? You only got the job because you're a woman. I applied for the job and although I am well qualified, I didn't get it but you did, only because you're a woman. You are single with no worries but I have a wife and child to support, and I need that job."
Jennifer never saw the long knife hidden in the newspaper he was holding. 
When the children had finished feeding the ducks, their mother led them along the path to the car park. As they passed the woman on the bench, one of the little girls tugged at her mother’s sleeve.
"Look mum, that lady's fast asleep," she whispered.
~~**~~

If you enjoyed The Glass Ceiling you will like my full length novel THE RAINBOW SERPENT.

This is the story of Patricia, trapped in a loveless marriage to a brutal man who will kill her if she attempts to leave him.
When he is arrested and sentenced to prison she seizes the opportunity to divorce him and flee. Three years later Patricia has graduated as an ethno botanist and is looking forward to a rewarding career. Then she learns that her ex-husband is to be released, and he knows where she is.
Fleeing to Australia, Patricia obtains a job with the University of Darwin, safe in the knowledge that as an ex-convict he cannot follow her to Australia. 
Now she has a new rewarding life complete with a new love. Michael, a local business man who operates hunting camps in remote Arnhem Land, a tropical wilderness.
She is horrified to see her ex-husband in Darwin. Not only does he want back the money she was awarded in the divorce, he also wants her, preferably dead.
For safety she goes with close friend Emily to Michael's hunting camp, unaware that her ex-husband has followed her. He kidnaps them both, intending to hold Emily hostage whilst Patricia gets his money from the bank.
Using her knowledge of bush medicine Patricia drugs him and they escape into the bush.
They have to walk to safety through the uninhabited wilderness of tropical Arnhem Land. The monsoon is about to start when torrential rain will not only make travelling extremely difficult and dangerous. It will also create immense floods. Enormous flocks of migrating birds will arrive when the crocodiles will move in to feast on them.
Patricia and Emily will also be their prey.
Her ex-husband is searching to kill them; Michael is searching to take them to safety.
Who will find them first?



Print copies of The Rainbow Serpent can be obtained from

http://www.createspace.com/3911295

A large print edition is obtainable from
http://www.createspace.com/3998193

ebook copies of The Rainbow Serpent can be obtained from
www.smashwords.com/books/view/172163


To be published in the coming months.

The Sydney Bank Job
Working for a shadowy organisation, Jennifer is a investigator who solves problems for multi-national companies and governments. Problems that cannot be allowed to be known by the public. For security she keeps incriminating records in a safety deposit box in her bank.
Four middle aged, unemployed men find an old abandoned tunnel that runs under the bank. Breaking into the safety deposit vault is a simple task. Not only do the four men steal the bank’s money, they also take the documents from her safety deposit box.
The hunt is on for the documents.
The government wants them. 
The police want them. T
he organisation want them.
Jennifer wants them.
But unknown to them all, there is another searcher who will stop at nothing, including murder.
You can read the first chapter of The Sydney Bank Job at my blog.
For details of my latest print and eBooks with information on where to find them. Sometimes with a free read of the first chapter and the occasional short story visit my blog,
http://harrydodgson.wordpress.com