Alice Marmion didn’t need to rush home again. When her shift came to an end, she found her mother waiting for her outside. After a warm embrace, they adjourned to a tea room two blocks away and found a table.
‘Has anything happened, Mummy?’ asked Alice.
‘Yes, it has, I’m afraid.’
‘Is it bad news about Paul?’
‘No, I’ve still heard nothing.’
‘So what brought you all the way here?’
‘I just felt the need for some support, Alice. Being stuck in the house was driving me mad so I made myself go out. When I got to the high street, I happened to pass that jeweller’s where Sally Redwood works. For some reason – I still don’t know why – I stopped to look at her. It made me so envious,’ said Ellen. ‘There she was, a young woman of Paul’s age, doing an important job, loving every second of it and making her parents proud of her into the bargain.’
‘I rather hope that that’s what I do for you and Daddy.’
‘Oh, it is, Alice.’
‘Did Sally Redwood see you?’
‘Thankfully, no – but she’ll find out eventually.’
‘How can she do that?’
‘Her mother caught me. I felt so humiliated. She said that I was doing exactly what Paul had done. When I told her that he’d run away, I expected at least a grain of sympathy but it never came. Patricia Redwood was glad. In fact, she was delighted.’
‘That’s horrible of her!’
‘No, it isn’t. Put yourself in her position and you might think differently. Remember what Paul did to her daughter, and I don’t just mean the time he leered at her through the window. There were those drawings of her that he threw darts at. Imagine how the girl would have felt if she’d known about that.’
‘I’m beginning to see what you mean, Mummy.’
‘Patricia wasn’t the only person glad that he was gone. There’ve been moments – and I’m so ashamed of them – when I’ve been glad as well, Alice.’ Despair came into her voice. ‘Isn’t that a terrible thing for any mother to feel?’
Hubbard was thwarted. Though he caught sight of Keedy a few times, the sergeant was never alone. He was always in the company of a uniformed policeman. In fact, the island’s police force was very much in evidence. They were on duty everywhere. Hubbard decided that he was responsible. Word had gone out that he was in Douglas and officers had been brought in from other towns to swell the ranks in the capital. Knowing that he himself might be in danger, Keedy had found himself a bodyguard. It was frustrating for Hubbard but he was prepared to wait, confident that his opportunity would eventually come.
Having taken such care with his disguise, he had no qualms about being caught. He walked around the town as if he were one of its inhabitants. To pass the time, he sat on a bench on the promenade and used the binoculars to watch the ferries coming and going. From time to time, he wandered back to the entrance to Camp IV and walked idly past the main entrance. On one such foray, he saw Keedy being escorted by the policeman. They parted at the main gate and the sergeant went in. It was too dangerous to lurk there for any length of time. Hubbard moved discreetly away but strolled past every half an hour in case Keedy came out.
It was well into the evening before his surveillance was rewarded. The camp itself was brightly lit and so were its immediate environs but there were dark shadows beyond. Hubbard found a place where he could hide with safety while keeping an eye on the main gate. He’d come prepared. He’d bought rope from a ship’s chandler and cut it into the right sizes. The heavy binoculars could now be used as a weapon with which to knock Keedy unconscious. Hubbard planned to drag him away to a disused ammunition dump he’d found nearby, relieve him of his warrant card, then leave him bound and gagged like the hapless Pentonville warder he’d overpowered. Early next morning, he resolved, he’d enter the camp while the guards on the night shift were still on duty. His claim to be Keedy would go unchallenged. Somehow – no matter how difficult a task – he’d find Ben Croft and wreak his revenge.
Hubbard was too single-minded to consider the possible pitfalls. He felt that everything was now in his favour. He just needed to dispose of Keedy and take his place. Having gone over the details of his plan, he’d worked up a fever of excitement. When Keedy actually came out of the main gate, Hubbard was all but slavering. The sergeant was alone. There was no police car this time. He walked away from the camp with an air of nonchalance until he reached the point where he was plunged into half darkness. Taking the binoculars from around his neck, Hubbard lifted them in readiness. Two or three blows would be enough to knock Keedy out. The same plan worked with the prison officer. After hitting him with a cosh and tying him up, Hubbard had taken his place and escaped. He’d have similar success this time.
As the footsteps got louder, he came out to intercept his victim. But Keedy was no prison officer foolishly turning his back on Hubbard. He was a man who’d spent years on the beat working night shifts. The experience had given him a sixth sense when it came to danger. Though he walked on as if unaware of the figure creeping towards him, he was already on the alert. When Hubbard raised his arm to strike, Keedy moved nimbly out of the way then swung a vicious kick at his assailant. It sent Hubbard reeling.
‘Come here, you bastard!’ he cried.
Keedy recognised the voice. ‘So it’s you, is it, Wally? I knew you’d pop up sometime.’
‘I want something from you, Sergeant.’
‘Then you’d better come and get it.’
Hubbard lunged at him again and swung the weapon at his head. Ducking beneath it, Keedy dived hard at his midriff, knocking the breath out of him and forcing him to drop the binoculars. Hubbard went berserk, flailing away with both fists until the punches began to have an effect. Keedy fought back, opening a gash over the man’s eye then connecting with his nose and producing a spurt of blood.
Enraged by the pain, Hubbard grappled with ferocity, using his hands, knees, head and teeth. He was not simply trying to knock Keedy unconscious any more. It was a fight to the death and he intended to win.
With a sudden grab, Hubbard got him in a bear hug and exerted immense pressure. Keedy was being slowly crushed. Managing to get a leg behind Hubbard, he twisted sharply and threw him off balance. As they fell to the ground, Hubbard released his grip and Keedy’s hands were free to pummel him. While he was getting in some solid punches, however, he was having to take his share of them and was gradually weakening. Hubbard had the manic strength of a man who feared that his mission might fail. He rolled over so that he was on top of Keedy and held him down with one hand while punching away with the other. It was impossible to dislodge him. Hubbard was winning the fight.
It was only for a few moments. The two men were then caught in the glare of a torch as two people came running up to see what was happening. Marmion didn’t hesitate. Though he had no idea who was involved in the brawl, he grabbed the man on top by the collar and hurled him off. Hubbard tried to fight back but his energy had been badly sapped by the fight. Strong and fresh, Marmion had the assistance of a uniformed policeman. Between them, they soon subdued and handcuffed him. His roaring voice had given Hubbard away.
‘I was hoping to meet up with you again, Wally,’ said Marmion.
Keedy was amazed. ‘What are you doing here, Inspector?’ he asked, dragging himself to his feet. ‘Who cares?’ he added, shaking his hand warmly. ‘I’ve never been so pleased to see you.’
‘I was told that you’d be in Camp IV, interviewing someone. I thought I’d like to meet the elusive Mr Croft again.’
‘So would I,’ said Hubbard, ruefully.
‘This constable was very kindly taking me there. I also came to deliver a message,’ explained Marmion. ‘The murder is solved. You can have all the details later. Meanwhile,’ he went on, turning to Hubbard who was now dripping with blood, ‘I have a message for you as well. It’s from the Governor of Pentonville. He’s looking forward to welcoming you back home.’
‘Don’t talk to m
e about that turd!’ growled Hubbard.
‘Speak more kindly of him,’ warned Keedy. ‘He’s going to look after you for the rest of your life. In addition to the crime you’ve already committed, you’ll be charged with grievous bodily violence during your escape, impersonating prison and police officers, and attempted murder.’ He dusted off his coat and picked up his hat from the ground. ‘You and the governor will have a long, long time to get to know each other, Wally.’
‘You wait – I’ll be back one day.’
‘I’m afraid not. Your days of freedom are over for good.’
‘I’ll kill that bastard, Croft, somehow.’
‘You’re talking about someone who’s performing a valuable service for his country. He’ll be delighted to hear that we’re taking you back where you belong.’
‘Let’s get him to the police station,’ said Marmion. ‘They can clean him up and put him behind bars for the night.’ He used the torch to examine Keedy. ‘You could do with cleaning up as well, Joe.’
‘I could also do with a drink.’
‘Don’t worry. The constable has been telling me about an excellent little restaurant that stays open late. I’ll buy you as many drinks as you like and tell you how I tracked down Ackley’s killer.’
The policeman took Hubbard by the arm and marched him away. Marmion and Keedy walked behind them, thrilled that their investigations, albeit problematical, had been a resounding success. One murder had been solved and a second one had been prevented. It was all over.
‘I’m starving,’ said Marmion. ‘I can’t wait to find that restaurant.’
Keedy felt his jaw gingerly, ‘I’m not sure that Wally has left me enough teeth to eat anything.’
‘You’ll manage somehow.’
‘I may need to drink my beer through a straw.’
‘It will still taste as nice, Joe.’
‘Isn’t it wonderful to have something to celebrate at last? And while we’ve been chasing criminals, Ben Croft – to his credit – has been trying to ferret out the enemies within. Talking of which …’
‘No,’ said Marmion, understanding what he meant, ‘there’s no news about Paul. That’s why I’m glad we’ve cleared the decks, so to speak. These investigations are closed. When I get back home, I can at last start looking for my son.’
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About the Author
EDWARD MARSTON was born and brought up in South Wales. A full-time writer for over forty years, he has worked in radio, film, television and theatre, and is a former chairman of the Crime Writers’ Association.
edwardmarston.com
By Edward Marston
THE HOME FRONT DETECTIVE SERIES
A Bespoke Murder • Instrument of Slaughter
Five Dead Canaries • Deeds of Darkness • Dance of Death • The Enemy Within
THE RAILWAY DETECTIVE SERIES
The Railway Detective • The Excursion Train
The Railway Viaduct • The Iron Horse
Murder on the Brighton Express • The Silver Locomotive Mystery
Railway to the Grave • Blood on the Line
The Stationmaster’s Farewell • Peril on the Royal Train
A Ticket to Oblivion • Timetable of Death • Signal for Vengeance
Inspector Colbeck’s Casebook:
Thirteen Tales from the Railway Detective
The Railway Detective Omnibus:
The Railway Detective, The Excursion Train, The Railway Viaduct
THE CAPTAIN RAWSON SERIES
Soldier of Fortune • Drums of War • Fire and Sword
Under Siege • A Very Murdering Battle
THE RESTORATION SERIES
The King’s Evil • The Amorous Nightingale • The Repentant Rake
The Frost Fair • The Parliament House • The Painted Lady
THE BRACEWELL MYSTERIES
The Queen’s Head • The Merry Devils • The Trip to Jerusalem
The Nine Giants • The Mad Courtesan • The Silent Woman
The Roaring Boy • The Laughing Hangman • The Fair Maid of Bohemia
The Wanton Angel • The Devil’s Apprentice • The Bawdy Basket
The Vagabond Clown • The Counterfeit Crank
The Malevolent Comedy • The Princess of Denmark
THE BOW STREET RIVALS SERIES
Shadow of the Hangman • Steps to the Gallows
Copyright
Allison & Busby Limited
12 Fitzroy Mews
London W1T 6DW
allisonandbusby.com
First published in Great Britain by Allison & Busby in 2016.
This ebook edition first published in 2016.
Copyright © 2016 by EDWARD MARSTON
The moral right of the author is hereby asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All characters and events in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978–0–7490–2053–8
The Enemy Within Page 29
