‘I’d go back to my old job, Miss Thompson.’
‘And what was that?’
‘I helped with embalming at the family firm of undertakers.’
It was such an unexpected answer that she forgot her troubles for a moment and burst out laughing. Odele then dried her eyes and apologised for moaning about her lot. She offered him a glass of gin but Keedy declined it and launched straight into the purpose of his visit.
‘I went to see Mr Redmond,’ he said.
She was cynical. ‘I’ll bet he refused to admit he’d laid a finger on me.’
‘No, he didn’t do that, Miss Thompson. His claim was that you started it. He had some sticking plaster on his head where you hit him.’
‘He struck the first blow and I just lashed out.’
‘His version was slightly different.’
Odele became truculent. ‘Do you believe him instead of me?’
‘That’s not the point at issue.’
‘It is to me.’
‘I wanted to know why he came here in the first place. If he was innocent of any part in the murder, he wouldn’t have reacted in such a guilty way. There was no need at all for him to bother you.’
‘Allan is like that. He’s one of Nature’s botherers.’
‘He’s also a very good tennis player. I watched him on court.’
‘I’m still hoping to watch him in court, Sergeant. He’s got blood on his hands, I’m sure of it. Allan Redmond came here to shut me up.’
‘Luckily, he didn’t succeed.’
‘He’s been dying to tear me away from Simon for ages. He thinks that we’d be a winning team on the dance floor. I quashed that idea when I hit him.’
‘Did he really have to go to that extreme?’
‘You’ll have to ask him that when you arrest him.’
‘I’ve told you before. We don’t have enough evidence to do that.’
She pulled back a sleeve to show off her bruise. ‘What do you call that?’
‘That simply proves that he assaulted you.’
‘Allan has all the instincts of a killer.’
‘Then why didn’t Mrs Wilder name him as a suspect?’
‘That’s her business.’
‘She felt that a more likely suspect was Tom Atterbury.’
‘Catherine would do.’
‘Why is that?’
‘She and Tom used to dance together at one time. It was a disaster. Catherine said that he set her career back several years. That was before Simon came on the scene. I named Tom Atterbury because I felt that he was capable of killing another man if he was roused,’ she asserted. ‘But Allan would have got to the victim first.’
‘How do they get on together?’
‘They don’t.’
‘Yet they sound like birds of a feather.’
‘They’re both birds of prey,’ she said with feeling, ‘I can tell you that.’
‘Let me ask you about someone else,’ he said, changing tack. ‘What do you know about a man named Godfrey Noonan?’
‘He’s the most crooked agent in London.’
‘Have you ever been a client of his?’
‘I’m not that stupid, Sergeant. Everyone knows what a shark God is. Simon learnt that. He had to take him to court to get the money he was owed.’
‘If he’s such a crook, how does he stay in business?’
‘I can see that you don’t know much about the theatrical world,’ she said. ‘It’s a place where hustlers and cannibals like God can thrive. He gets results. There’s no question about that. Somehow his clients are always in work – though he charges them an exorbitant commission.’
‘What would Mrs Wilder think of him?’
‘Ask her.’
‘We may well do that,’ he said. ‘Oh, there is one thing I meant to ask. Soon after I left Mr Redmond, he jumped into a car and drove off. I’m wondering if he might have been going off to a cottage he mentioned.’
‘It’s more than likely.’
‘Do you happen to know where it is?’
‘I certainly do,’ she said. ‘When Allan and I first met, he took me there to … further our acquaintance.’
‘I’d be very grateful for the address, Miss Thompson.’
A slow smile spread across her face and she put her hands on her hips.
‘What are you prepared to do for it?’
He was finally making some progress. Paul Marmion had just spent a whole hour in her company and she had not mentioned Colin Fryatt once. Mavis Tandy now seemed more interested in Paul himself and in his future.
‘Will you go back to work in the civil service one day?’ she asked.
‘I doubt it.’
‘Why is that?’
‘It will seem deadly dull after what I’ve been through, Mavis.’
‘Does that mean you’ll stay in the army?’
‘I’ve got to make a full recovery first.’
‘And when you do – what then?’
He was about to say that his first priority was to go back to France to kill as many Germans as he possibly could, but he had second thoughts. Having got her off the subject of Colin Fryatt and the ongoing battle of the Somme, he wanted to keep her away from it. Instead, therefore, he was non-committal.
‘I’ll … look around.’
‘What about the police?’
His lip curled. ‘That’s the last job I’d take.’
‘But your father’s a detective inspector,’ she said. ‘Didn’t you tell me that he started off in the civil service as well?’
‘That was different.’
‘You also said you’d like to do something where you could wear a uniform and have plenty of action. The police force would give you both.’
‘So would the fire service,’ he countered. ‘So, for that matter, would the Salvation Army. My uncle sees lots of action in the East End. He’s been attacked more times than he can count.’
‘But he’s trying to help people.’
‘When they’re drunk, they just want a fight.’
‘Is that how you feel when you’ve had too much beer?’
‘I make sure that I never do,’ he claimed. ‘I hate to lose control.’
‘I’m so glad to hear you say that, Paul,’ she said, touching his arm.
They were standing beside the river, watching a barge chug past them. The journey to Gillingham was starting to pay dividends for him. Mavis had a genuine interest in him now. He was not simply there as someone’s friend.
‘Why don’t you want to be a policeman?’
‘Because you’re never there,’ he replied. ‘My mother is always complaining that she hardly ever sees Dad. He gets called out whenever there’s an emergency.’
‘Haven’t you been following his latest case in the newspapers?’
‘No – why should I?’
‘He’s your father, Paul.’
‘I’ve got my own life to think about.’
‘But he’s trying to catch a brutal killer. Doesn’t that interest you?’
‘The only thing that interests me at the moment,’ he said, venturing a compliment, ‘is you, Mavis. I’ve had such a lovely time.’
She smiled broadly. ‘That’s good. I was afraid that I’d bore you.’
‘Oh, no. You’re the most interesting girl I’ve ever met.’
‘How odd!’ she cried. ‘That’s exactly what Colin said to me.’
Harvey Marmion arrived at the office in Soho to learn that Godfrey Noonan was away on business for a while. The agent’s secretary was a scrawny, tousle-haired woman in her fifties with an empty cigarette holder between her lips.
‘How long is he likely to be?’ asked Marmion.
‘Mr Godfrey should be back fairly soon,’ she replied. ‘He went to Chingford but didn’t expect to stay there long.’
‘In that case, I’ll come back later on.’
‘Who shall I say called?’
‘I’m Detective Inspector Marmion from Scotland Ya
rd.’
‘Very well – I’ll tell him.’
She showed no surprise that a policeman was anxious to meet her employer. She simply wrote down Marmion’s name on a grubby pad then addressed herself to the typewriter. He left to the clatter of keys. The office had already told him a lot about Noonan. Situated above a seedy restaurant, it was small, cluttered and festooned with theatre posters. Since it was so close to Archer Street, he decided to kill time by calling on Gillian Hogg. The address was easy to find but, to reach her top-floor flat, he had to climb up a veritable Matterhorn of steps. Fortunately, she was at home and, with some reluctance, she invited him in.
The flat was almost exactly the same size as the office he’d just left but it was excessively well organised and brightened by wallpaper that featured exotic birds. Even for one person, space was very limited. How she and Wilder had managed to live there together, he could only guess. A framed photograph of him stood on a table. She noted the interest he showed in it.
‘What can you see, Inspector?’ she asked.
‘It looks like Mr Wilder in younger days.’
‘He took it about three months after we’d married.’
Marmion was jolted. ‘How could he take a photograph of himself?’
‘Look at it more closely.’
He bent over to peer at it and spotted a vague shape on the shelf beside which Wilder was standing. Only one explanation seemed possible.
‘He was standing in front of a mirror,’ he guessed. ‘When he developed the photo, he somehow managed to get rid of the camera – most of it, anyway.’
‘Well done, Inspector!’
‘I was told that he was a clever photographer.’
‘Simon was an expert,’ she said, ‘but do sit down. Can I offer you anything?’
‘No, thank you,’ he said, choosing an upright chair. ‘It’s pure accident that I’m in the area. I came in search of a Mr Noonan.’ Her face darkened. ‘I can see that you know him.’
‘I know him and avoid him like the plague. God is a menace.’
Marmion chuckled. ‘I hope that you don’t say that on a Sunday.’
‘Simon had the most terrible trouble with him.’
‘So I hear. What about you?’
‘Oh, I had my problems with him as well,’ she said, sourly. ‘He lured me in with all kinds of false promises, one of which was that he was always happy to help his clients with loans if they hit a fallow period. When I hit a rocky patch early on in my career, I needed some cash to tide me over. God provided it. What he didn’t tell me until I came to repay it was that there was a fair amount of interest to add.’
‘He seems to have upset a lot of his clients.’
‘He knows how to butter up the important ones, Inspector, the people who always land starring roles. We lesser talents were the ones to suffer and, since he tied us hand and foot with punitive contracts, it was difficult to break free.’
‘I look forward to meeting him.’
‘Take a peg for your nose.’
Marmion was seeing a new side to Gillian Hogg. At their first meeting, she’d been, for the most part, restrained and well spoken. There was anger in her voice now. He sensed that he was about to hear more about Godfrey Noonan.
‘I got his measure when I tried to repay that loan,’ she explained. ‘I didn’t have the full amount. “God is merciful”, he told me and gave me a fortnight to find the money. But he wasn’t prepared to wait for two weeks. That night, he called at the digs where I was staying and said that he was prepared to be paid in kind. Can you think of anything more disgusting?’ she went on. ‘That pig of an agent expected me to go to bed with him. And I wasn’t the only victim. When I talked to some of the actresses on his books, most had been propositioned by him.’
Once started, she was happy to reel off more examples of the agent’s duplicity and exploitation of his clients. She had got rid of Noonan and found another agent. Thanks to him, she went on to meet Wilder.
‘You know what happened from then on, Inspector.’
‘Yes, Mrs Hogg,’ he said, unable to hide his disapproval. ‘After a relatively short marriage, you decided to part from your husband and agreed to furnish evidence for him to divorce you.’
‘Strictly speaking,’ she said, ‘it was a male friend who did that. Overcoming his distaste for the opposite sex, he allowed himself to be photographed with me in a compromising position. It’s the only time in his life that he got close to a woman and it won’t happen again. Simon was able to claim that the photo had come into his possession whereas he was the one who took it in the first place.’
‘You’re lucky that that never came to light in the divorce court.’
‘You sound critical.’
‘I uphold the law, Mrs Hogg. You and your husband flouted it.’
She gave a shrug. ‘That’s water under the bridge now.’
Marmion was compelled to revise his judgement of her. When she’d spoken to him in Chingford, she’d presented herself as the former wife of a man she supported through the difficulties of his second marriage. Evidently, the portrait was incomplete. He had the strong feeling that Wilder did more than just call in when in need of a sympathetic ear. The dancer came to enjoy pleasures denied him at home and Gillian was happy to offer them. As a wife, she’d found their relationship imposed too many limitations. The new role of his mistress was much more to her taste.
‘Will you be at the funeral?’ he asked.
‘Nothing would keep me away, Inspector.’
‘What about consideration for Mrs Wilder?’
‘Catherine never showed me any consideration,’ she said, acerbically. ‘She’s snubbed me in public a number of times. As far as she’s concerned, I don’t exist.’
‘Did she ever have any connection with Godfrey Noonan?’
‘As a matter of fact, she did.’
‘Could you enlarge on that, please?’
‘He and Catherine worked hand in glove at one time.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It took Keedy some time to extricate himself from Odele Thompson’s flat with the address he needed and he vowed to keep well clear of her in the future. While she’d contributed some useful information to the investigation, he told her, it didn’t entitle her to a closer relationship with him. Even though he’d pointed out to Odele that he was engaged to be married, he still felt strangely vulnerable and couldn’t understand why. He therefore tried to focus solely on his work. His next task was to track down Allan Redmond at his cottage in Hertfordshire but he needed a car to do that. Claude Chatfield had returned to Scotland Yard in one vehicle and Harvey Marmion had used the other to get himself driven to Soho. Keedy, therefore, had to travel to central London by public transport. It was a tedious journey until the moment when an idea popped into his mind. All of a sudden, he began to enjoy the trip immensely.
Since he knew the exact route of Alice’s beat, he was able to work out roughly where she would be at the time he finally got off the bus. Instead of reporting to Scotland Yard, therefore, he sneaked off to intercept her for a short while. It was, he felt, the antidote he needed to the threat of Odele Thompson. Keedy had guessed right. Alice and Iris Goodliffe were in precisely the area he expected to find them. The very sight of her cheered him up. She, in turn, was overjoyed.
‘Where did you spring from, Joe?’ she asked, excitedly.
‘It would take too long to explain.’
‘Oh, this is Iris …’
During the introductions, Iris shook his hand warmly and looked up at him.
‘It’s good to meet you at last, Sergeant Keedy,’ she said. ‘I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you.’
‘Don’t believe everything that Alice tells you,’ he said.
‘I only told her the truth,’ insisted Alice.
‘She said how tall and good-looking you were,’ said Iris, ‘and how you always dressed smartly.’ After beaming at him vacuously, she became aware that she was in the way. �
��Oh, I’m sorry. You didn’t come to see me, did you? Why don’t I walk on a bit, Alice? You can catch me up.’
‘Thanks, Iris.’
As soon as the other woman left, Keedy stepped in to give Alice a kiss.
She was pleased. ‘What have I done to deserve that?’
‘I’ll tell you sometime.’
‘Tell me now, Joe. And explain how you managed to slip away from a murder investigation. Does Daddy know that you’re here?’
‘No, he doesn’t and he must never find out.’
‘How long can you stay?’
‘Only a few minutes – I just had to see you.’
‘Why? Has something happened?’
‘Yes,’ he admitted and, though he’d intended to say nothing about Odele, his tongue ran away with him. ‘I had to interview the murder victim’s dancing partner at her flat. She began to … show an interest in me so I had to tell her that I had a fiancée. It was embarrassing. To be honest, I was glad to escape. Then I just felt the urge to see you.’
Alice was piqued. ‘Did you give her any encouragement?’
‘No, of course I didn’t.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, I am,’ he replied, hurt that his word should be questioned.
‘Women don’t do that sort of thing unless they sense something.’
‘This one does.’
‘Was it the first time?’
‘Alice—’ he protested.
‘Was it? I’d like to know.’
‘Then the honest answer is that it wasn’t. She … made it clear that she was interested in me when she came to the police station.’
‘And how did she do that?’
‘It was … in her manner.’
‘So even though you knew she had designs on you, you went off to be alone with her in her flat.’
‘I had to go there. Your father sent me.’
‘You could have taken somebody else with you.’
‘Yes, I suppose that I could have done that.’
‘But you didn’t do that, did you? Why was that?’
‘Look …’
Dance of Death Page 19
