‘We have to look at everyone who appears to have a motive for murder, sir. In your case, we were told, you were very envious of Mr Wilder’s success.’
‘I wasn’t envious of it, Sergeant. I felt it was undeserved.’
‘Why is that?’
‘Simon had a modicum of talent, that’s true, and when he danced with his wife he was able to look much better than he really was. Yet somehow they managed to persuade everyone that they were Britain’s equivalent of Vernon and Irene Castle. Are you familiar with those names?’
‘We are now, sir,’ said Marmion.
‘My wife and I are much more like the Castles.’
‘We’ll take your word for it.’
‘A lot of people have said the same thing, Inspector. When I dance, I am often compared to Vernon Castle.’
‘If you saw me dance,’ Keedy put in, ‘you’d compare me to Windsor Castle.’
‘I’ve been talking to a friend of yours, sir,’ said Marmion.
Atterbury was wary. ‘Oh, who is that?’
‘It’s your agent, Mr Noonan. He speaks highly of you.’
‘And so he should – I put a lot of money his way this year.’
‘He seemed to think it was the other way around.’
‘Agents are a necessary evil, Inspector. No matter how good you are, you need someone to ferret out work and to make deals. Godfrey does all that very well.’
‘I thought his clients called him God.’
‘I draw the line at that,’ said Atterbury. ‘It only feeds his vanity.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought it needed feeding,’ said Marmion, coolly. ‘We discovered that Mr Noonan and Mr Wilder had been at daggers drawn in the past.’
‘Ah, so that’s what brought you here to pester me again, is it? Yes, it’s true. Godfrey did lose a court battle to Simon and the wound still festers.’
‘Is your agent the sort of man who’d want to get his revenge?’
‘He’s already got it, Inspector. My wife and I are the embodiment of his revenge. Had he lived, Simon and Odele would have been knocked off their pinnacle by us at the British Dance Championships. That’s the kind of revenge that Godfrey savours – an act of murder on the dance floor.’
‘But you and your wife couldn’t be certain of winning,’ said Keedy.
‘Oh, yes, we could.’
‘There are other leading contenders. Mr Redmond is one of them.’
‘Allan is a wonderful dancer,’ conceded Atterbury, ‘but he’s let down by his partner. That’s why he kept trying to seduce Odele Thompson away from Simon. She and Redmond would make a formidable pair.’
‘I admire your confidence, sir,’ said Marmion.
‘It’s the most important element in dancing.’
‘Let’s turn to another friend of yours – Martin Pattinson.’
‘He’s hardly a friend, Inspector. We happen to be members of the same club, that’s all. We’re on nodding terms, nothing more.’
‘So you’ve never invited him to your home?’
Atterbury frowned. ‘Why on earth would I do that?’
‘You tell us, sir.’
‘Then I can say categorically that Pattinson has never been here.’
‘Your memory is very poor, sir,’ said Keedy. ‘We have information that places Mr Pattinson in this very house yesterday evening. You spoke his name as he left.’ Atterbury was rocked and Keedy smiled. ‘I see that you remember, after all.’
‘So let’s have no more prevarication,’ said Marmion.
As the truth dawned, Atterbury looked from one to the other. Conflicting emotions made him unable to say a word for a few moments. When he finally spoke, the veins stood out on his temples.
‘You dared to have me followed?’ he roared.
‘It seemed like a wise precaution, sir.’
‘You had no right to do that.’
‘I think you’ll find that we have every right. It’s a useful way of checking people’s honesty. Yours was found wanting yet again.’
‘How dare you!’ shouted Atterbury. ‘You’ll be hearing from my solicitor.’
‘He’ll tell you exactly what I can,’ said Marmion. ‘When war broke out, the government rushed through emergency measures. One of them was the Defence of the Realm Act. We call it DORA. Your solicitor will know that DORA gives the police sweeping powers that include tailing someone suspected of having committed a felony. In short, Mr Atterbury, if I put six detectives outside this house to watch it night and day, the only thing you can do is to protest.’
‘This is intolerable.’
‘It’s the law, sir,’ said Keedy, ‘so why don’t you stop pretending that you and Mr Pattinson do nothing more than nod at each other, and tell the truth.’
‘It was the truth,’ insisted the other. ‘Pattinson and I are acquaintances and not real friends. As it happened, he did come back here from the club. If you had a man watching the house, he’ll have told you it was a relatively short stay.’
‘But why did he come here at all?’
‘I invited him in for a nightcap.’
‘Did you discuss what happened to Mr Wilder?’
‘No – why should we?’
‘I don’t think you’re being entirely honest, sir,’ said Marmion. ‘The sergeant has already caught you lying about the time you got back here on the night of the murder and we’ve just seen you wriggling away from the truth once again.’ He gave him a smile of encouragement. ‘Why don’t you start cooperating with us for a change? It will be to your advantage in the long run.’
Atterbury distributed a furtive glance between them before moving away.
‘I need a drink,’ he said.
Audrey Pattinson sat at the piano with a pile of dance music in front of her. It was very dear to her and she couldn’t bear the thought of throwing it away when it held so many wonderful memories. On the other hand, she knew that her husband would open the piano stool to check that it was no longer there. Gathering it up, therefore, she took it upstairs to her bedroom and hid it in a drawer under some stockings. Even though she could play all the melodies without sheet music, she was determined to keep it as one more minor act of rebellion against the man who dominated her life. Picking up the satchel she routinely took with her to the studio, she pulled out another sheaf of music and put it in the drawer. She then looked into the satchel again and gave a yelp of surprise.
Something was missing.
Tom Atterbury had poured himself a whisky and soda before he even thought to offer a drink to his visitors. They declined the offer and waited for him to take a first gulp. Fortified by the alcohol, he gave his statement. He’d met Pattinson at the club, he said, and they’d had such a pleasant conversation that he brought him back to the house for a nightcap. It was the first time that Pattinson had been there and he was unlikely to go again. Atterbury’s dancing commitments were such that he’d be out of London for a while and unable even to get to his club. It was a place to which he resorted when his wife, Naomi, was away. Had she been at home the previous night, he’d never have dreamt of bringing Pattinson back.
‘Why do you say that, sir?’ asked Marmion.
‘The fellow is rather dry and humourless. Naomi wouldn’t have taken to him.’
‘Yet you did.’
‘Only that once,’ asserted Atterbury.
‘We met Martin Pattinson and thought him very much a man’s man. I suspect that his wife has a lot of long, lonely evenings.’
‘That’s her problem, Inspector.’
‘It may not have been a problem,’ suggested Keedy. ‘Neither of us had the feeling that Mr Pattinson was sparkling company. His wife might have been glad to be left alone with her piano. She must be an excellent musician if Mr Wilder relied on her so much.’
‘Pattinson was singing her praises when he was here.’
‘And that’s all you did, was it – just have a quiet chat?’
‘What do you think we did, Sergeant – talk about th
e murder we plotted?’
‘You’re being sarcastic, Mr Atterbury.’
‘Can you blame me?’ asked the other, sipping a second whisky before going on the attack. ‘You each interview me separately. You have me followed. You corner me this morning and try to trip me up all the time. Why don’t you simply accuse me of killing Simon and put me behind bars?’ Setting his glass on the table, he offered both wrists. ‘Come on, put the handcuffs on me,’ he sneered. ‘Then see what happens when my solicitor gets me released. We’ll sue you for false arrest.’
‘That’s debatable, sir,’ said Marmion, easily. ‘As it is, we’ve no desire to meet your solicitor at this stage. The person who interests us is your agent.’
‘Godfrey?’
‘When did you last see him?’
‘It was a day or two ago.’
‘What sort of a mood was he in?’
‘Godfrey is always in a good humour, Inspector.’
‘Would you call it a mood of celebration?’
‘What would he be celebrating?’
‘The presence of you and your wife in his list of clients,’ said Marmion. ‘He assured me that you would have been crowned champions even though you’d be competing against Mr Wilder and Miss Thompson. Now that they are no longer in the running, your triumph is even more likely. Isn’t that something to celebrate?’
Atterbury was circumspect. ‘What are you trying to get me to say?’
‘I just want you to answer a simple question, sir.’
‘Go on.’
‘How well do you know Godfrey Noonan?’
Gillian Hogg was reading a play for which she was about to audition. When there was a tap at the door, she opened it to discover a small, bedraggled boy standing there.
‘There’s a gintlemun darnstairs as wants to speak wi’ yer,’ he said.
‘Did he give his name?’
‘Naw,’ said the boy, ‘but ’e give me a tanner to say ’e’s too old to climb all them bleedin’ steps.’
Having delivered his message and earned his sixpence, the boy scampered off. Gillian was curious. Marmion had been able to climb the stairs without difficulty so he was clearly not the caller. Taking her key, she locked the door then tripped down the stairs with a nimbleness born of years of practice. As soon as she stepped out into the street, a hand grabbed her by the neck and forced her against the wall.
‘What have you been saying about me?’ demanded Godfrey Noonan.
Timid at the best of times, Audrey had to summon up every ounce of her courage before she called at the house. Catherine was surprised to see her but nevertheless invited her in. Audrey was daunted by the sight of her brother. He had the same air of authority as her husband. During the introductions, she gibbered.
‘What can we do for you?’ asked Catherine.
‘First of all,’ said the visitor, holding up a key, ‘I want to return this. If the studio is to close, you’ll want the key back.’ She handed it over. ‘I suppose that there’s no chance you’ll want to reopen it and run it yourself.’
‘I can’t even think about that.’
‘Decisions of that importance can’t be rushed,’ said Clissold.
‘No, no,’ said Audrey. ‘I understand. By the way, I saw the announcement in the paper about the funeral.’
‘Yes,’ replied Catherine, ‘we were just going through the order of service.’
‘Did Mr Wilder leave any instructions for you?’
‘Of course, he didn’t,’ said Nathan Clissold, ‘because he thought he had years to live. Why should he start making stipulations about his funeral?’
‘He promised me, you see.’
‘Promised you what, Mrs Pattinson?’
‘Well, perhaps “promise” is too strong a word but he was so pleased with my accompaniment that he told me he wanted me to play the organ at his funeral.’ They grimaced. ‘There were witnesses there – Miss Thompson was one and Colette Orme was another. They’ll support me.’
‘I’m sure that Simon might have said something along those lines,’ said Catherine, quickly, ‘because he was always making extravagant promises that he couldn’t possibly keep. I learnt that to my cost. It’s very kind of you to offer but we will be using the church organist for the funeral.’
‘It’s a man’s job,’ said Clissold with crushing finality.
Audrey was downcast. ‘I’ve played at funerals before.’
‘And you may well do so again – but not in this case.’
‘Oh …’
Audrey felt thoroughly rejected. Having been so close to Wilder, she hoped she’d earned some rights with regard to him. Catherine and her brother had robbed her of that illusion. Before she left, she had one last request.
‘Might I know which hymns have been chosen, please?’
‘We haven’t decided yet,’ said Catherine.
‘You’ll have to wait and see,’ added Clissold.
‘Is that all?’
Catherine was issuing a challenge rather than seeking information. She made no bones about the fact that she wanted the older woman to go. Accepting defeat, Audrey nodded a farewell then left a house in which she’d spent so many happy hours when Wilder was alive. His death had put it out of bounds to her and the closure of the dance studio had deprived her of the one thing that gave her life pleasure and direction. All that she could look forward to now was a continuation of the domestic tyranny under which she’d been kept since the day she’d unwisely married.
Since Paul Marmion had an appointment that day with the army eye specialist – and since Mavis Tandy also had commitments – they were unable to meet. They had therefore agreed on a time and place for the following morning. Paul fretted at the delay but at least he was in a more conciliatory mood when he came downstairs.
‘I’m sorry about last night,’ he mumbled.
‘You’re not as sorry as I am,’ said Ellen, sharply. ‘Because of you, we all lost our tempers and said things we shouldn’t have said.’
‘I only told Alice the truth.’
‘There are times when it’s unkind to express an opinion.’
‘I wasn’t trying to be kind. I was being honest.’
‘Well, you upset your sister and you upset me. I hope you’re proud of that.’
He shuffled his feet. ‘I didn’t mean to upset anybody …’
The words came out easily enough but Ellen didn’t really believe them. In the past, she’d loved her son uncritically and, in the wake of his injuries, she’d dedicated herself to nursing him back to full health. Recent events had made that more difficult than it had first seemed. His physical health had improved markedly but there were flashes of anger and sheer bloody-mindedness that frightened her. Paul appeared to take pleasure from distressing his mother and his sister.
‘It’s got to stop,’ she affirmed.
‘What has?’
‘You can’t go on like this, Paul.’
He mimed innocence. ‘What have I done wrong?’
‘You must consider other people’s feelings.’
‘I always do.’
‘Alice and I were having a private conversation. You didn’t need to butt in.’
‘I agreed with what she was saying.’
‘You reduced her to tears again,’ complained Ellen.
‘That’s nothing new. We always argued as kids.’
‘You’re both grown-ups now. You have to behave responsibly. Alice realises that but you obviously don’t.’ He gave a non-committal shrug. ‘If Joe ever gets to hear what you said, he’ll be hopping mad.’
Paul straightened his shoulders. ‘I’m not afraid of him.’
Ellen gave up. She felt that he was being deliberately obstructive yet again. Changing her tack, she tried a more sympathetic approach.
‘What time is your appointment?’
‘It’s at eleven o’clock.’
‘Would you like me to come with you?’
He almost laughed. ‘Why should I want you to do
that?’
‘I came with you the first time you went to the specialist.’
‘My sight has got much better since then.’
‘I thought you might like some company,’ said Ellen, ‘that’s all.’
‘A minute ago, you were telling me to act like a grown-up,’ he snapped, ‘yet now you’re treating me like a child who needs to hold his mother’s hand. I can look after myself. You don’t have to take me anywhere. I make my own decisions now.’
Ellen’s heart constricted yet again. She was losing him.
After the visit to Atterbury’s house, they got into the car and were driven back to Chingford. Marmion and Keedy had each reached the same conclusion.
‘He’s lying,’ said the inspector.
‘I don’t think we heard a syllable of truth.’
‘We gave him a fright, anyway. That justified our call on him.’
‘What surprises me,’ said Keedy, ‘is that he and Pattinson are friends. What could they possibly see in each other?’
‘If people have a common objective, they make light of differences. And they both had a good reason to get rid of Wilder.’
‘Atterbury did because he detested a rival. It’s not the same with Pattinson. He may have resented the amount of time that his wife spent at the dance studio but all he had to do was to snap his fingers and she’d have come to heel.’
‘That’s true.’
‘So what was his motive?’
‘It’s not entirely clear,’ admitted Marmion, ‘but I sense that he’s the kind of man who doesn’t really need one. He spent most of his life as a soldier, remember. The army does strange things to people. We’re finding that out with Paul.’
‘He needs a good clip around the ear,’ said Keedy, angrily.
‘That’s not the answer, Joe. We need to understand why he’s behaving in that way. By the same token, we need to find out why Pattinson might be in an unlikely partnership to commit murder.’
‘Which one of them carried it out?’
‘Atterbury has to be favourite.’
‘Even though he has an alibi, I wouldn’t rule out Pattinson.’
‘Does he deserve another visit?’
Dance of Death Page 24
