The Good Wife

by Jane A. Adams

  ‘Luck, in this case, means the man who hit me was not very good at his trade. It could have been a lot worse. I could have met with Eric Davies or Johnny Sexton. Had either of those been responsible, I’d have been telling all I know, should I have had the chance, but also be dead as a doornail by now.’

  Henry took a seat on the other bunk and Mickey settled beside him. ‘Reece said you have a lot to tell,’ Henry said. ‘So you’d better begin. Incidentally I have seen you before. You paused beneath the streetlamp to light a cigarette on the night I visited my sister. You were also in the cafe when I was speaking to Felicity Conway. You bumped against our table as you left. At the time I was uncertain you were the same man, and besides I needed to speak to Felicity Conway. So it seems you have been following me.’

  Otis nodded and then winced and wished he hadn’t. ‘Our paths were destined to cross long before Martha died,’ he said.

  ‘Then you’d best begin at the beginning and carry on to the end,’ Mickey told him. ‘But don’t take all afternoon, we’re hoping to get a warrant to raid a house.’

  ‘Elliston’s place,’ Otis said. ‘In that case I had better get on because what I tell you will probably help. But maybe we can save a bit of time by you telling me how far you’ve got. What you think or suspect is going on here. Time is one thing we are very short of.’

  ‘Well,’ Mickey said, ‘there are counterfeit five-pound notes, and we suspect that Lord Elliston is involved with that, willingly or not, and that his cousin, John Kirkland, might have a finger in the same pie. We suspect that Mrs Martha Mason knew at least part of this, maybe Kirkland told her. She certainly had some notes in her possession and was taking a keen interest in both Kirkland and Elliston. She had previously told a friend that she was once an enquiry agent, something her husband wished to keep very quiet. And that she was still in contact with some of her old colleagues. But the friend was concerned about something completely different, that a local doctor might be treating his patients a little too liberally with the morphia. That he might even be procuring abortions for young girls in trouble.’

  ‘We suspect that Martha arranged to meet someone at Southwell races. Was that you?’ Henry said.

  ‘Not me, no. She told me she was going to arrange to meet Kirkland. That she believed that Kirkland was the weak link in all of this because he was frightened. She had letters of his that she knew he wanted back, so she promised to bring them along to the racetrack and that she would find a way of getting them to him. But something went wrong. Kirkland didn’t see her but Davies followed her. It’s likely she tried to get away, but he killed her. I’m sure it was him. I know he was there and I know he knew all about Martha.’

  ‘And are you the enquiry agent that she was still in contact with?’

  ‘Not directly, no. She did get in touch with Giles & Conway, but they took very little notice of her. They saw Martha as unreliable, I believe. It was when she contacted John Kirkland that she came to my notice, or rather to the notice of the organisation I work for. I can’t be more specific, I’m afraid. She seems to have contacted Kirkland when Giles & Conway knocked her back. She knew Kirkland had been divorced for a second time and I think she wanted to know who he’d used to facilitate that. Anyway they met up, and one thing led to another and Martha became involved with John Kirkland once more. Of course, that brought her to the attention of Timothy Elliston. A man who certainly held a grudge. Anyway, over time, Martha being Martha and keeping her eyes open she realized that Kirkland was not only ill at ease but that he seemed to be surrounding himself – or rather Timothy Elliston seemed to be surrounding himself – with very dubious types.

  ‘When she worked for Conway, the jobs she did were not always salubrious. True, it was mostly just assistance with divorce cases, but occasionally she was involved with would-be blackmailers; she was certainly aware of the underbelly of our society. And she had very much been aware that the first Mrs Kirkland divorced her husband at the behest of Johnny Sexton. They had been seeing each other for quite some time, Kirkland didn’t like it but what could he do? You may know that the first Mrs Kirkland ran up some very severe gambling debts. This threw her in the way of the criminal types, of whom Johnny Sexton is one of the worst.’

  ‘And is that association still relevant?’

  ‘Fortunately for her, no. Her father threatened to cut her off without a penny unless she mended her ways. He paid for her to go to America, put her in a very expensive clinic in California, with orders that they would not let her out until she had come round to his way of thinking. She finally married a film star that she’d met during her rehabilitation. I’m not entirely sure this is what her father intended but it is probably better than Johnny Sexton.’

  ‘And so you made contact with Martha Mason.’

  ‘Our investigations were then underway, Martha seemed like a useful person to cultivate, she was almost on the inside of the organization but on the other hand she was above suspicion in her everyday life.’

  ‘You used her to obtain information.’

  ‘We hoped to use her to turn Kirkland. If Kirkland gave evidence … Martha had been told that she must distance herself, that it was becoming too dangerous. And we believed that she had. But then Kirkland wanted his letters back, Martha contacted me and said she felt she ought to give them to him. Kirkland had also given her counterfeit notes. He’d said they were a gift, but she became suspicious and asked me to check one of them. I realized this was the beginning of the evidence we needed because they matched others that we had previously obtained. We came to suspect that the operation was being run from Lord Elliston’s country estate. But he’s a powerful man with powerful connections. We required more evidence. The Kirkland link was excellent, but …’

  ‘But it never occurred to you that Martha might be putting herself in the firing line by agreeing to meet Kirkland at the races.’

  ‘We had told her not to. She informed me that she was going to be there anyway, with friends. That it would look strange if she suddenly refused what would normally be a treat, a day out away from everything. We told her that she must remain with her friends, that she must remain in busy places, that she was to ensure that she was not intercepted. We told her to forget Kirkland, that she should simply post his letters back to him.’

  ‘That would have been eminently sensible,’ Mickey agreed.

  ‘Martha was an eminently sensible woman, most of the time. But there was something about her that loved this sort of adventure, that pushed boundaries. She believed that if she spoke to Kirkland one more time, she could perhaps entice him away from the path he had taken. Persuade him that he could be protected if he spoke out against his associates. I told her that this was foolhardy in the extreme and that she must not do it, but how was I to stop her?’

  ‘You were at the races that day?’

  ‘With several of my colleagues. We kept Elliston under surveillance. Kirkland too, but it is almost an impossibility to carry out surveillance on a race day, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that. We lost Kirkland. We assumed that he’d gone to meet with Martha Mason. One of my colleagues saw her drop her bag and kick it beneath some bushes shortly after she left Nora Phillips. He took the opportunity to search it but found nothing. He then put it back, not knowing what Martha intended. He’d seen her talking to the Mancinis, and satisfied himself later that this was a perfectly innocent conversation, so he seized the opportunity to search the bag at that point, thinking she would spend some time talking to this couple that were obviously friends but when he returned, the Mancinis had already gone to the owners’ enclosure and Martha to her death.

  ‘He went to where she told us she was going to meet Kirkland. There is a gate at the end of where the fairground had set up, through that there is a paddock where the larger transports had been parked. Through that again was the one where she was killed. He spotted Kirkland, but not Martha, so probably at some point she had been intercepted. I’m sorry there is a great d
eal I don’t know. I returned to make my report that evening, then the news arrived that Martha had been killed, I literally turned myself round again and came back up here.’

  ‘You should be in the hospital,’ Henry said.

  ‘No, too many questions will be asked. I’m safe enough here. Now’ – he held out a scrap of paper – ‘I have written here a name and a telephone number. Contact this man and tell him that Otis Freeland judges that there is enough evidence to move on our targets and that to wait will give them time to disperse. In fact, we are already against the clock, Inspector. My being there would have warned them that something is wrong.’

  ‘Did you give Martha a gun?’

  ‘I did, yes. And I still have mine. You’d better make use of it.’ He pointed to his jacket. ‘In the right-hand pocket. Much good it did me,’ he laughed weakly.

  Henry went in search of Edgar Reece. ‘When did he arrive here?’

  ‘An hour before I sent the boy to you. We patched him up, waited until he was able to talk. He wanted to get a message to you and so we did.’

  Henry calculated quickly. Could he take men from the encampment, would Reece be willing for him to do that? As though reading his mind, the showman told him, ‘I got men posted at various points, instructions to report back should there be movement at the Elliston house. The nearest police station is five miles that way, Otis’s car is there, you’d better get yourself in it, and summon the cavalry.’

  Minutes later, he and Mickey were on their way.

  ‘So what department do you reckon he works for?’ Mickey asked.

  ‘It probably has some obscure number attached to it,’ Henry suggested. ‘And I doubt we’ll ever get the full picture. But I’d be content with an arrest and a hanging.’

  NINETEEN

  It was dusk by the time everyone was assembled. The name and telephone number that Otis had given them had opened doors in a remarkable fashion, but Henry was still worried that time was against them. Reece’s men had reported that there were signs of packing and movement and one car had already left, with a driver and a passenger. Both male. They’d noted the make and the registration number for Henry, and promised that one of their number would also be following. Henry worried that Reece’s men were treating this far too lightly, that they were seeing this almost as fun. But there wasn’t a great deal he could do about that and he was grateful for the intelligence.

  Now there were twenty officers, all armed and set up around the perimeter. Mickey and Henry had taken the path through the woods that Otis had earlier followed and now had sight of the stable block and the main house. What appeared to be a man’s body lay on the gravel. No one seemed to be taking much notice of it. Men moved purposefully, loading boxes into the backs of trucks and vans.

  ‘I see no sign of the stable hands,’ Mickey said. ‘It’s to be hoped they’ve come to no harm.’

  ‘I’m more concerned they may become hostages,’ Henry said. He spoke briefly to an officer who was with them, who nodded and began to move around to Mickey’s right. Henry beckoned and he and Mickey moved forward. Both were armed now, Henry with Otis’s weapon and Mickey with an ageing Luger, though its mechanism was smooth and had been kept well-oiled and Mickey had announced himself satisfied.

  There seemed to be no one on guard at the back of the stable block – all were occupied with packing and loading, and Henry was able to peer through one of the windows. Four men sat inside, they were not bound but they looked uncomfortable and anxious and Henry realized he was probably correct in his assumption; the men had been detained to be used as hostages should the gang be surprised. As Otis had predicted, his discovery and escape had sent the whole wasps’ nest to flight.

  The window was small, too small for a man to climb through so they would have to find another way to get them out. Henry retreated and Mickey followed. ‘We have no chance of getting through the door,’ he said. ‘The only entrances are at the front of the building and we will be spotted instantly. But I wonder if it is possible to arm those inside, so at least they can come out fighting, should the need arise. Two of them at least look old enough to have served in the war, and they are all countrymen – they will know how to handle a weapon.’

  They withdrew to the main police line and a few minutes later had managed to rustle up a couple of spare pistols and a shotgun with two cartridges. Mickey wondered if the local officers had gone out raiding all the local farms, assembled an armoury from weapons kept at the back of drawers, kept there since the Great War had ended. Cautiously they moved forward again, aware that the rest of the team would now have circled the house.

  ‘Twenty men, against armed and dangerous thugs probably numbering at least that.’ Mickey looked worried. ‘There will be casualties on both sides.’

  ‘And if we can get these through that window, there will be twenty and four,’ Henry said.

  The oldest of the four men heard them first, turning sharply at the gentle tap on the window. Henry put his finger to his lips; he had his warrant card in his hand so the man could see it. He signed that they should open the window and cautiously this was done.

  ‘They locked us in here.’

  ‘Are there more of you?’

  ‘Two more young ’uns. In the coach house. They beat a man to death, God, it was a dreadful thing to witness. Then they rounded us up, locked us away.’

  ‘This might even the odds for you,’ Mickey said as he began to pass the weapons through the window. ‘I’m hoping you can all shoot straight. When we attack, they will come for you, seek to use you as shields. You won’t survive it unless you fight back. Even if these men take you with them, they will kill you.’

  The man nodded to show he understood. ‘What about the two boys in the coach house?’

  Henry was already pulling Mickey away. ‘We must go.’

  ‘We will do what we can,’ Mickey promised.

  Henry pulled him back into cover as a figure appeared around the side of the stable block. The man looked suspiciously around. He went to peer through the window where Mickey and Henry had just been speaking to the incarcerated men and Henry held his breath. He breathed out again as the man turned on his heel and disappeared. Those inside had had the sense to close the window again and must have concealed the weaponry. Hopefully they would keep their nerve.

  Nothing more to be done, he thought. He heard the whistles blowing to signal the attack, and for an instant he was taken back more than ten years, whistles blowing as the men advanced from the trenches. Mickey grabbed his sleeve, pulled him forward and he was back in the here and now. From inside the stable block they heard gunfire and shouting. They ran, keeping low, around the side of the stable block and joined the fray.

  Inside the house, Elliston heard the gunfire. Kirkland came running in from the hallway. ‘What the hell is going on?’

  ‘It would seem we are under attack. I suggest we sit down and wait to see who is victorious before we do anything rash. If the police officers win, then we will be arrested. But we can plead coercion, that we were afraid for our lives and the lives of our families. Men like us do not go to prison, Kirkland.’

  ‘Where is Timothy?’

  ‘He left some time ago, along with Mr Sexton. Rats always leave the ships when they are sinking.’

  ‘And yet we remained here?’

  ‘Believe me, Kirkland. This was the better option. Tim can only run so far. His so-called friends will squeal on him. He is too deeply entrenched. However, there may be some chance for us if we keep our nerve and keep calm.’

  ‘Calm,’ Kirkland almost screamed. ‘How can you keep calm?’

  He moved towards the window, trying to see what was going on.

  ‘Get away from there. Do you want to get yourself killed? Have you not realized there are people out there shooting at one another?’

  Horrified, Kirkland came and sat down at Lord Elliston’s side.

  ‘Where are the servants? Where are the stable boys?’

 
‘If the servants have any sense, then they are in the basement well out of the way. As to the stable boys, I have no idea. But we can’t expect help from them. No, we must sit here and wait this out. See which side is victorious. Then we act accordingly.’

  Kirkland looked at him in disbelief. ‘You’re mad,’ he said.

  ‘If necessary,’ Lord Elliston said. ‘If necessary, then that is exactly what I will be.’

  Two men fell as Mickey advanced and fired, he saw another go down out of the corner of his eye. They were moving towards the coach house, determined that they would do what they could for the two boys inside.

  He was aware of somebody storming out of the stable block and he wheeled, and then realized that it was one of the men they had armed. He had seen Henry take cover in the turn of the wall and knew that his boss had spotted him.

  ‘Come,’ he said to the older man who now held one of the pistols. ‘My inspector will give us covering fire. Show me where these boys are held.’

  They kept low and ran together, Henry providing the covering fire as Mickey knew he would. He had little ammunition, but what he had he made count. Turning back when they reached the coach house door, Mickey could see seven bodies lying on the ground, four of them wearing civilian clothes, two uniformed. One was the man they had seen slumped on the ground before, that they’d been told had been beaten to death. It looked as though some of the gang had run towards the trees, and there were men in pursuit. Henry joined them and they entered the coach house together.

  Above them they could hear footsteps. ‘There are three rooms,’ Mickey was told. ‘I do not know which one they put the boys in.’

  ‘Go back outside, take cover in the trees. Gather your people together if you can, and keep them safe,’ Henry told him.

  He nodded, peered cautiously through the door and then took off.

  ‘So,’ Mickey whispered. ‘How many rounds do you have left?’

  ‘For Otis’s weapon, three. But I also have this. And this has five rounds.’ He drew from his pocket the little Beretta that Martha Mason had concealed among her scarves and gloves. ‘I borrowed it from the evidence room,’ Henry said. ‘I suspected we might have need of it. We will deal with the consequences later, I think.’