Under Attack

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Under Attack Page 14

by Edward Marston


  ‘It’s a good profession. I’d never be out of work, I know that. There’s always a steady flow of customers. Dying will never go out of fashion.’

  ‘You always said you hated it.’

  ‘What I hated was taking orders from my father all the time. He could be a real tyrant. Then there was the stink – it’s not the most fragrant job in the world. But the worst part,’ recalled Keedy, ‘was having to dress up for funerals and look solemn. It didn’t suit me at all.’

  ‘That’s why you left. You belong in the police, Joe.’

  ‘I don’t feel that I do sometimes.’

  ‘Iris thinks you’re amazing. If they ever design a recruiting poster, she says, they ought to put you on the front of it. You’re her idea of the perfect detective.’

  ‘Is that what you think as well?’

  ‘I don’t need to think it,’ said Alice, snuggling up to him. ‘I know it.’

  ‘So I should hope.’ He kissed her gently on the lips. ‘How is Iris getting on, anyway? Is she still complaining about being a wallflower?’

  ‘No, she has an admirer.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Don’t look so surprised. She’s a nice woman.’

  ‘But not the kind that men take an interest in, I’m afraid.’

  ‘One man does – Constable Beckett. They went off to the cinema together. Iris was thrilled when he invited her out,’ said Alice. ‘Honestly, you’d have thought he’d asked her to marry him.’

  ‘That’s the trouble with girls like Iris,’ he said, jokingly. ‘You give them one kiss and they start thinking about their wedding dress. They don’t realise that most men just like to have fun.’

  ‘Are you one of them, Joe?’

  She hadn’t meant it to sound like an accusation.

  The search was slow and painstaking but they kept at it. Ignoring the filth and the dog faeces and the rotting food, the policemen moved in a steady line and prodded away. Marmion, meanwhile, was getting to know Clifford Burge a little better.

  ‘So your brother is in the river police, is he?’

  ‘Yes, he rows in Everitt’s boat and loves it. The river throws up something different every day. Les says that it’s an education.’

  ‘Were you never drawn to it?’

  ‘I’d rather stay on dry land, sir. The Thames can be treacherous.’

  ‘But it has a lot of fascinating stories to tell,’ said Marmion, looking at the water. ‘We’re investigating one of them.’

  A policeman picked something up and scrutinised it by the light of his torch. After a while, he brought it across to Marmion who took it from him.

  ‘I don’t know if this is any use, sir,’ said the man, ‘but it seems a bit out of place here. I don’t think many people in these parts get their suits from Bond Street.’

  Using his own torch, Marmion looked at the label he’d just been handed. It bore the name of Langley, Hope and Catto and was a vital clue.

  ‘Well done, Constable,’ said Marmion. ‘Your efforts were rewarded. What you found proves that this is the spot where the murder took place.’

  The silence was long and uncomfortable. Neither of them seemed able to break it. They sat there without touching each other, together but apart. Eventually, Alice got up and Keedy followed suit. They started to walk around the perimeter of the park. All the joy had been drained out of them. Alice blamed herself at first then began to feel a sense of justified resentment. If Keedy hadn’t been so evasive whenever the subject of their marriage came up, she would not have had to challenge him. On his side, there was a mixture of anger and recrimination. While he was annoyed that she should even ask him such a question, he was honest enough to admit that he had drifted from one girlfriend to another in the past. Alice had put a stop to that. He’d committed himself wholeheartedly to her. Why did she doubt him?

  When he eventually broke the silence, he was careful to shift the conversation away from the subject of their future together.

  ‘I wish that Paul would at least get in touch.’

  ‘So do I.’

  ‘It’s preying on your father’s mind. He hides it very well but I can see the signs. It’s wearing him down.’

  ‘Mummy is in the worst position,’ she said. ‘Daddy and I always have work to do and somewhere to be. She’s at home alone most of the time. The irony is that having Paul in the house was a nightmare for her, yet all she can think about now is getting him back there.’

  ‘The longer it goes on, the less chance there is of that.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, if he manages to survive – and I’m sure he will – Paul will start to build a whole new life somewhere else. No reflection on you and your parents,’ said Keedy, ‘but he may find it better than the one he left behind.’

  ‘But we’re his family, Joe.’

  ‘I don’t think that matters to him any more.’

  ‘It matters to us.’

  They came to a halt and he turned to face her. The tension was tangible.

  ‘Go on,’ he said at length. ‘Say it.’

  ‘Say what?’

  ‘You’re going to remind me what Paul told you.’

  ‘No, I’m not.’

  ‘He said that I’d be a rotten husband – or words to that effect – because of what I was like in the past. I think you’re starting to agree with him.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ she said, earnestly.

  ‘You don’t trust me the way you did.’

  ‘All I want is to set a date for the wedding.’

  ‘How many times must I tell you – we’ll get married when we can afford it.’

  ‘We could afford it now, Joe.’

  ‘And where would we live?’

  ‘In the short term, we could always move in with my parents.’

  ‘You’d hate that as much as I would,’ he said, bitterly. ‘And supposing Paul does come back. Living under that roof would be murder.’

  ‘Then we’ll rent rooms somewhere else.’

  ‘I think we can do better than that, Alice. That’s why I’ve been saving up all this time. I want us to own our own house.’

  ‘And when will that be?’ she asked, letting her frustration show. ‘This year, next year, the one after, sometime never?’ She grabbed hold of him. ‘How much longer must I wait?’

  Keedy stepped away from her. ‘I’ll walk you back,’ he said.

  Claude Chatfield was pleased to hear of the latest development. Having identified the scene of the crime, Marmion had a team of detectives ready to examine it properly not long after dawn. It was a small sign of progress that might get the approval of the press and make the superintendent’s dealings with them less of a trial. Marmion’s other piece of news was given a more cautious welcome. Like him, Chatfield reserved his judgement on Keedy’s theory about the killer.

  ‘It doesn’t ring true somehow,’ he said. ‘Why should Sprake’s chauffeur want to murder his employer’s business partner?’

  ‘Sprake stands to gain total control of the company.’

  ‘I thought he told you how much he relied on Donohoe’s acumen?’

  ‘Perhaps he felt he could manage without it now.’

  ‘I’m unconvinced. The description the sergeant gave of this Thomas Day was very nebulous. It could apply to thousands of people – including Keedy himself.’

  ‘They don’t all possess a car, sir.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Now that we know where the murder took place,’ said Marmion, ‘we have to explain how Donohoe got there. He’d hardly go to such an unsavoury part of the city of his own volition. We know that he had the use of his partner’s chauffeur – Sprake told us that. Donohoe knew and trusted the man. If Peebles had driven him to Stepney late at night, Donohoe wouldn’t have realised where they were going.’

  ‘Is this your hypothesis or the sergeant’s?’

  ‘It’s Sergeant Keedy’s, sir. I have my doubts.’

  ‘Why?’<
br />
  ‘There’d be no need for Peebles to masquerade as Thomas Day. Why bother to stalk his victim when he already knew Donohoe well and had a perfectly good reason to drive him to and fro? Whoever Thomas Day really was, he couldn’t have been the chauffeur.’

  ‘He may just have been a legitimate guest at the hotel.’

  ‘That, too, is possible.’

  ‘Is the sergeant still clinging to his theory?’

  ‘He hasn’t arrived yet, sir,’ said Marmion. ‘Knowing that you’d be at your desk this early, I wanted to discuss the matter with you. It’s helped me to see that, in naming the chauffeur as a suspect, we were perhaps being a little hasty.’

  ‘I didn’t make that mistake,’ insisted Chatfield. ‘You and the sergeant did.’

  Marmion didn’t argue with him. He felt sorry for Keedy. When the sergeant had rung him from the Devonian Hotel the previous evening, he was excited at what he thought was a genuine discovery. In spite of his misgivings, Marmion had praised him for his initiative. When they met that morning, he would have to pour cold water over the theory that a guest at the hotel had been Jean-Louis Peebles in disguise.

  ‘The commissioner will be pleased at what you found out last night,’ said Chatfield. ‘You acted promptly.’

  ‘I’ve instructed my men to knock on doors in the area of the scene to ask if anyone saw or heard anything on the night of the murder. My expectations are not high,’ said Marmion, resignedly. ‘Most people there are more used to hindering the police than helping them.’

  ‘Inspector White managed to get some assistance from one of them.’

  Marmion smiled. ‘He has an unusually persuasive manner.’

  ‘You must thank him for providing such useful information.’

  ‘I’ve already written to him, sir. By the way,’ he went on, ‘I had the pleasure of meeting the man you recommended as suitable for looking into juvenile crime in the area – Detective Constable Burge. He was at the scene when we got there.’

  ‘He’s a promising young detective.’

  ‘I was like that once.’

  ‘So was I,’ said Chatfield. ‘We’ve both come on since then.’

  He spoke with a smirk of self-congratulation, reminding Marmion, as he did at regular intervals, that he’d risen to a higher rank. The inspector made no comment. He was keen to get back to his office where Keedy would probably be awaiting him.

  ‘One last thing,’ said Chatfield. ‘Let’s not dismiss the chauffeur out of hand. In your report, you described him as an opportunist.’

  ‘That was the impression I got, sir.’

  ‘Yet his life consists of fetching and carrying for Sprake.’

  ‘He’s extremely well paid for doing so and is part of the household.’

  ‘How far would his dedication to Sprake go?’

  ‘Peebles would do whatever he was asked.’

  ‘What if he was asked to assassinate his employer’s partner?’

  ‘I don’t think he’d turn a hair,’ said Marmion.

  It was a sad day for Harriet Kane. She was leaving her office in Barnes that morning for the last time. When she’d packed everything up, she went off to say individual farewells to everyone in the building, leaving Peebles to load her things into the car. The chauffeur had been told to drive her to Euston where she’d board a train to Birmingham. Her days in London were definitely over. As he picked up the last bag, Peebles looked covetously around the office.

  ‘It’s all mine now,’ he said, gleefully. ‘Good riddance, you ugly old bitch!’

  Iris Goodliffe was glowing. Her night out with a man had clearly been a rewarding experience. She was dying to tell her friend about it. Seeing her from a distance, Alice quailed. The contrast in their positions could not have been greater. One of them was happy and full of hope for the future while the other was depressed and remorseful. It was all too evident to Alice that Iris and her admirer had parted on the best of terms whereas she and Keedy had certainly not. The friends stood side by side as they and the other officers were given instructions before they left. When she’d finished her briefing, Inspector Gale sent them all off with the exception of Alice and Iris. She objected to the broad grin on Iris’s face.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ she snarled.

  ‘Nothing,’ replied Iris, ‘nothing at all, Inspector.’

  ‘Then I’ll do without your impression of a Cheshire cat, thank you very much.’ Iris became solemn. ‘That’s better. Yesterday I had occasion to castigate you for the way you behaved with that dog.’

  ‘We felt it was our duty to do something.’

  ‘What you did was wrong, as I explained. I take nothing back from what I told you but it’s only fair to say that your actions met with approval elsewhere. I had a letter from a gentleman praising your courage and your adaptability. He said that you saved the dog from serious injury.’

  ‘We did, Inspector.’

  ‘Having read his more measured account of what happened,’ said the older woman, ‘I’m inclined to accept his word over that of the dog’s owner. You made a brave attempt to rescue the animal.’

  Alice said nothing. Though she was glad that someone had spoken up for them, her mind was so firmly fixed on her estrangement from Keedy that she could think of nothing else. Inspector Gale dismissed them and they stepped out into the street. Alice felt duty-bound to uncork the bottle of Iris’s joy.

  ‘How did you get on last night?’

  ‘It was magical!’ said Iris, giggling. ‘I was terribly nervous but Doug put me at my ease straight away. He was so considerate. He was also very honest. He wanted me to know that he had been married but that his wife had died tragically two years ago. Since then, Doug said, he’d never looked at another woman until he saw me.’

  ‘Which film did you see?’

  ‘To be honest, I can’t remember. It was enough for me to sit in the dark holding a man’s hand. I hardly looked at the screen. Afterwards, Doug took me for a meal. He was so respectful, Alice. I knew that he would be somehow. Some of the policemen we bump into can be … well, rather coarse at times, but not him. Doug Beckett is a gentleman.’

  Alice soon lost count of the number of times she mentioned his name. Iris was entranced. The evening had ended with a chaste kiss on her doorstep but there had also been a surprise invitation. Beckett had asked to see her again the next day. It was proof positive that he’d enjoyed her company.

  ‘I felt as if I’d known him for ages,’ said Iris.

  ‘I’m glad that it went so well.’

  ‘Doug asked after you, by the way.’

  Alice was surprised. ‘Why did he do that?’

  ‘He was interested in everything I did and everyone I knew. I told him that you were my best friend as well as my partner on the beat. Doug had heard of Sergeant Keedy and of the famous Inspector Marmion. He said I was lucky to have someone as distinguished as you beside me.’

  ‘I’m not distinguished, Iris. I’m still learning how to be a policewoman.’

  ‘Yes, but you’ve got the right breeding, Doug said.’

  ‘He should have been talking about you and not me. I’d hate to go out with a man and listen to him going on about another woman.’

  ‘They were just remarks he made in passing,’ said Iris, tolerantly. ‘Most of the time, he went on about noticing me for the first time. He loved my eyes, he said.’

  Iris went off into another series of reminiscences. It was ten minutes before she remembered that the person beside her had a private life as well.

  ‘Did you see Joe last night?’

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘How is the murder investigation going?’

  ‘We never discussed it, Iris.’

  ‘Didn’t he even give you a hint or two?’

  ‘No, he didn’t.’

  ‘So what did you do?’

  ‘We went for a walk in the park.’

  ‘Is that all?’

  ‘There wasn’t much else we could do at that
time of night.’

  ‘So you just … walked and talked.’

  ‘We simply enjoyed each other’s company,’ lied Alice.

  ‘That’s what happened with me and Doug. There were times when neither of us said anything for a while. Being together was enough. And we had so many laughs,’ said Iris with another giggle. ‘I had no idea that Doug would be so funny. You told me once that Joe had a wonderful sense of humour – so does Doug.’

  Alice forced a smile. ‘I’m very happy for you, Iris.’

  ‘Then why do you look so sad?’

  ‘I’m tired, that’s all. I didn’t get to bed until late.’

  ‘I was far too excited to sleep. I lay awake thinking about Doug for hours.’ She turned to face Alice. ‘Are you ever kept awake like that?’

  ‘Yes,’ admitted Alice. ‘It happened last night. I didn’t sleep a wink.’

  Keedy was in much the same position, feeling jangled after a sleepless night brooding on what had happened. What made it worse was that he was sitting in an office with Alice’s father and was therefore reminded of her every time Marmion spoke. At least he was spared any questions about Alice. Realising that his sergeant was in a sensitive mood, Marmion kept the conversation to operational matters. When he heard the news, Keedy was stung by what seemed to him to be the summary rejection of his theory that the chauffeur might be the killer.

  ‘When I rang you last night, you said it was worth considering.’

  ‘That was before I’d really thought about it. Chat and I talked it through.’

  ‘You might have waited until I got here,’ complained Keedy.

  ‘I’m glad that we didn’t. If you’d yawned in front of Chat the way you’ve been doing in here, you’d have been thrown out. Our feeling was this.’

  He gave a succinct account of his earlier discussion with the superintendent, stressing that they both approved of the research he’d done with the hotel ledger. Keedy listened impatiently. When it was all over, he jumped in at once.

  ‘I still think it could be the chauffeur. I feel it in my bones.’

 

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