Under Attack

by Edward Marston

  ‘I was glad of the opportunity to meet her and the others.’

  ‘Will we be seeing you again?’ said Ulverton, opening the main door for him.

  ‘Who knows, sir?’

  ‘Give my regards to the inspector, won’t you?’

  ‘I will.’

  Ulverton chuckled. ‘I daresay you’d like me to give your regards to Dulcie Haddon, wouldn’t you? She has that effect on everyone.’

  Ellen came back into the living room in something of a daze. She’d just had a telephone call from Marmion and couldn’t quite believe what he’d told her. Alice saw the look on her face.

  ‘Is everything all right, Mummy?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘Who was on the phone?’

  ‘It was your father. He had some wonderful news to pass on.’

  ‘Have they made an arrest?’

  ‘It wasn’t about the investigation, Alice. It was about us. When your father explained our situation to the superintendent, he offered to help. He rang Inspector Gale at home and got permission for you to have a day’s leave.’

  Alice was amazed. ‘He actually got a concession from Gale Force?’

  ‘Yes, he did. It means that we can go together tomorrow.’

  ‘If I’d asked her, my request would certainly have been turned down.’

  ‘Superintendent Chatfield managed to win her over.’

  ‘He’s not known for his charm, according to Daddy. Who cares? The main thing is that you’ll have company tomorrow and I won’t be anxiously walking the beat, wondering how you’re getting on. And there’s an additional bonus.’

  ‘Is there?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Alice, ‘I’ve been set free. I won’t have to listen to Iris droning on about her second night out with PC Beckett.’

  After a long walk around the park, they adjourned to a small restaurant for dinner. It was a fairly modest establishment with a limited menu but Iris didn’t mind. With her admirer smiling at her from the other side of the table, she’d have been happy to eat anything. Doug Beckett was a police constable earning only a moderate wage. In her eyes, the very fact that he was prepared to spend his money on her was proof of his interest. The romance was still in its early stages but Iris felt that it already had a feel of permanence. She asked him about his ambitions.

  ‘I’d like to pass the sergeant’s exams,’ he said.

  ‘Are they difficult?’

  ‘So I’m told,’

  ‘You’ll pass them with flying colours, Doug.’

  ‘I’m not so sure. I was never the brightest pupil at school.’

  ‘You’d make a good sergeant.’

  ‘I’ll have to get through the exams first and the truth is I’m not very good at studying. I get easily distracted.’

  ‘Could I help you?’ she volunteered.

  ‘How would you do that?’

  ‘Well, I know that you’ll be asked about particular laws. I could read out the questions to you until you get the answers off by heart.’

  He was delighted. ‘Would you really do that for me, Iris?’

  ‘Yes, I would.’

  ‘It might make all the difference.’

  ‘Two heads are better than one.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I appreciate it, Constable Goodliffe.’

  ‘Call on me any time, Sergeant Beckett.’

  When they shared a laugh, he reached out to squeeze her hand.

  Marmion was going through his notes about the case when Keedy returned with news of his visit to Club Apollo. The inspector was interested to hear about the impact that a female viola player had had on him.

  ‘This young lady obviously impressed you, Joe.’

  ‘Oh, she did. It’s very brave of her to play with three older musicians who each have a lot more experience.’

  ‘Her father obviously thought that she was good enough.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Keedy, ‘he kept glancing across at her with approval. Miss Haddon only ever lifted her eyes from the music to look at him.’

  ‘What about the members? I suppose they stared at her throughout.’

  ‘Oddly enough, some of them didn’t. They just got on quietly with their meal. Some even had muted conversations. They were definitely listening, though. When the quartet came to the end of a piece, there was always a lot of applause.’

  ‘Were they playing Haydn again?’

  ‘No, it was someone called Boccherini. Miss Haddon told me that he wrote many string quartets. If she’d had the time, I think she’d have given me his entire life story. Anyway,’ he concluded, ‘what have you been up to while I was away?’

  Marmion told him that Chatfield had not only offered to try to arrange some leave for Alice on the following day, he’d actually succeeded. Somehow he’d managed to persuade Inspector Gale that it was important for her to release one of her policewomen. Keedy was pleasantly surprised.

  ‘I didn’t know that Chat was a ladykiller.’

  ‘He talked her round, somehow. Ellen was overjoyed and I feel much happier about her trip, knowing that Alice will be beside her. The Warwickshire countryside will be very different to living in the biggest city in Britain. If she was on her own, Ellen could find it intimidating.’

  ‘Thanks to Chat, she won’t be on her own. What about Thomas Day?’

  ‘He’s popping in to see us first thing tomorrow.’

  Keedy blinked. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I had a long chat with him on the phone.’

  ‘So he did ring you, after all.’

  Marmion gave him an edited account of the conversation he’d had with the businessman, stressing how ready to help the man had sounded. He asked Keedy to be there early in the morning so that he could form his own opinion of Day. Intrigued by what he’d heard of the man, the sergeant was happy to do so.

  ‘Did you ask him about Jean-Louis Peebles?’ he said.

  ‘No, I didn’t.’

  ‘Why not? I’m convinced there’s some link between them.’

  ‘On the basis of what you found out, so am I. But I didn’t want to challenge him on the subject of Peebles. It’s so much easier to lie during a phone call. I’d rather put the question to him when he is least expecting it and when I can look him in the eye.’

  ‘Good thinking.’

  ‘He’ll have the two of us watching him like hawks.’

  ‘What do you think his answer will be?’

  ‘All I can tell you is that there will be an answer. Tom Day can talk the hind leg off a donkey. Whatever we ask him, he’s not going to be lost for words. How many of them we choose to believe, of course, is another matter.’

  It had been a perfect evening so far. Mindful of the fact that she tended to lose all her inhibitions if she had too much to drink, Iris Goodliffe drank very little alcohol. What had been a rather ordinary meal had tasted like a feast to her. The more she knew of Beckett, the more she liked him. She wasn’t blind to his defects. He was far from handsome and his moustache didn’t really suit him. There was also a morose streak in him. He lapsed too easily into reminiscences of his wife and talked about the pain of being made a widower at a relatively young age. Yet she was ready to forgive all his imperfections. Having asked her out once, he’d done so again. It meant an enormous amount to someone who was accustomed to being ignored by men as a matter of routine. Her confidence steadily grew.

  ‘I never thought you’d even notice me, Doug.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Well, you’d only seen me when I was on the beat with Alice Marmion. She’s much prettier than me. When I’m beside her, I’m invisible.’

  ‘Not to me, Iris.’

  ‘Do you really mean that?’

  ‘You’re the one I asked out – not your partner.’

  ‘She’s spoken for, Doug. You’d have been wasting your time.’

  ‘I got the woman I wanted,’ he said with awkward gallantry.

  ‘Thank you.’

  Iris came clos
e to blushing. To prolong their time in the restaurant, they ordered a second cup of coffee. She now had a good idea of the sort of man he was and the type of life he led. One detail was missing, however.

  ‘Where do you live, Doug?’

  ‘Less than fifteen minutes from here.’

  ‘Is it a house or a flat?’

  ‘Oh, it’s a nice little house,’ he said, proudly. ‘My parents bought it forty years ago. Dad died first. When I got married, we moved in with my mother but she was very poorly and needed a lot of looking after. Bertha, my wife, helped to nurse her. It was not long before my mother passed away, then Bertha became ill herself. We never really had the time to enjoy the sense of freedom.’

  ‘What a pity!’

  ‘We were hoping for children but … well, they never came.’

  ‘It might have been just as well, Doug.’

  ‘I’ve come round to thinking that. Suppose that I’d been left with a couple of toddlers to look after on my own. I don’t think I could have managed and I certainly don’t think I’d have been able to stay in the police force.’

  ‘Ideally, children need both parents.’

  ‘No, Iris, they need two parents and four healthy grandparents. Children can’t have enough people who love and look out for them.’

  ‘My two grannies were the making of me. They looked after me in turns when my mother was working in one of our shops. And there’s one big advantage of having a father who’s a pharmacist. As soon as there’s the slightest sign of illness, he knows what to prescribe for you. No wonder I was the healthiest girl in my class.’

  ‘You still are glowing with health, Iris.’

  ‘That may just be the drink we had.’ They giggled. ‘So you’ve got a nice little house of your own, have you?’

  ‘Yes, it’s more than enough for me. You must see it sometime.’

  Eager to agree, Iris managed to hold back her reply. The simple truth was that she’d only known Beckett for a very short time and still had a lot to learn. When she’d been about to go on her first date with him, she’d sought advice from Alice and been warned to stay in public areas. Until she’d learnt to trust him, Alice had said, she had to exercise caution. If she went too readily into a house or a flat with him, Iris might be giving him the wrong signal. As a result of the advice, she kept him waiting for her reply.

  ‘I’d like that, Doug,’ she said at length, ‘but there’s no hurry, is there?’

  When he got to the Mermaid Tavern, he found Everitt White ensconced at a table with a half-empty beer tankard in front of him. For once, White was not in uniform. Clifford Burge bought himself and his friend a pint, then went over to sit at the table.

  ‘Hello, Cliff,’ said the other. ‘Made any arrests yet?’

  ‘No, but it won’t be long before we do. There’s a big fight coming between the gangs. We’ll be ready to break it up.’

  ‘Make sure you hold on to your hat.’

  ‘I’ll be wearing this old cap, Ev. Losing my hat once was enough. You not only got it back for me, you found me someone who knows those gangs inside out. They’ve kept that old man supplied with stuff for years.’

  ‘Is he being helpful?’

  ‘He’s being very helpful since I leant on him. I told him it was a choice between helping us or having his shop burnt down by the Evil Spirits.’

  ‘That must have forced a decision out of him.’

  ‘It did. He’s on our side of the law now.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Where’s Les this evening?’

  ‘Sitting at home with the missus, I expect.’

  ‘How is my brother doing?’

  ‘He’s one of the best men I’ve ever had, Cliff. Rowing any boat in the Thames is not for weaklings and ours is particularly difficult. You need the strength of an ox. Les not only has that,’ he said with a grin, ‘he actually looks like an ox.’

  ‘Even as a kid, he always loved messing about on the river.’

  ‘We don’t mess about. It’s serious business. The Thames is the lifeblood of the capital. Unfortunately, it’s also been the cesspool. When people wanted to get rid of something nasty, that’s where it would go. Luckily,’ said White, ‘we’ve got a proper sewage system now but we still get lots of filth in the water. I’ve fished out more dead cats than I could count.’

  ‘Les always talks about a dead horse you saw floating past.’

  ‘Yes, that doesn’t happen every day – thank God!’

  ‘How did it get in the water in the first place?’

  ‘I don’t think the owner threw it in there. It was still quite young. I fancy that it fell in accidentally and didn’t have the strength or the skill to swim with the tide. On the other hand,’ he added, winking, ‘it may have deliberately committed suicide.’

  Burge laughed. ‘Why – did it leave a suicide note?’

  ‘It never had the time to write it, Cliff.’

  As they drank their beer, they began to talk about the differences between the Thames River Police and the Metropolitan Police. White conceded that the latter had far more territory to cover and a huge population to police. On the other hand, he argued, the river told more beguiling tales, spewing up bodies that invariably had a mysterious history.

  ‘Look at the latest one, for instance,’ he pointed out. ‘He’s baffled everyone at Scotland Yard. They still haven’t worked out who killed him, why they cut out his tongue and how he ended up in the Thames without any shoes on. When the full story comes out, it will be fascinating. Les will tell you the same thing,’ he went on, sipping his beer. ‘The river is the biggest and best crime scene in London.’

  Caught up in a piece of driftwood, the body was largely immersed in the water. Every time a passing vessel created a bow wave, it bobbed up and down in the darkness.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Excited by the possibility of learning where Paul had been living, his mother and sister slept fitfully and rose early. When the police car came to pick Marmion up, he was able to give them a lift to Euston Station.

  ‘Don’t expect too much,’ he warned from the front passenger seat.

  ‘We won’t,’ said Alice. ‘We’d just like to know.’

  ‘For a start, we’ve no idea when Paul actually left the farm. That letter might have been sent a week or more after he’d been turned out of the place. Or maybe he went of his own volition,’ said Marmion, thoughtfully. ‘That could be the explanation. It’s a busy time of the year on a farm. If Paul walked away and left the farmer in the lurch, he’d every right to be angry.’

  ‘We’ll be realistic,’ said Ellen. ‘Paul has obviously caused real trouble. It’s been someone else’s turn to suffer at his hands this time.’

  When they reached the station, the women thanked the driver and started to get out of the car. Marmion turned to his daughter.

  ‘Is there any message for Joe?’

  ‘Give him my love,’ she muttered.

  ‘And you can give mine to the superintendent,’ added her mother. ‘But for him, I’d be making this journey on my own and shaking in my shoes.’

  Marmion wished them both well before being driven off. When they’d bought their tickets, they went to the appropriate platform and waited. They could see that the train was going to be full.

  ‘I hope we get seats,’ said Ellen.

  ‘We’ll make sure we do, Mummy.’

  ‘I wonder if your father was right.’

  ‘What about – Paul walking out on his job?’

  ‘Yes, Alice, that could be the answer. There’s a mean streak in him since he was invalided out of the army. He seemed to enjoy letting people down.’

  ‘That’s not what happened this time.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘If Paul had just left of his own accord, the farmer would have been livid. He wouldn’t have sent money after him. He’d have docked Paul’s wages.’

  ‘I never thought of that.’

  ‘I spent half the night think
ing about it,’ said Alice. ‘The money is critical. How was it earned and why was it sent? I know that Paul had some savings when he left but they wouldn’t have kept him going for ever. He needed food and shelter. How could he buy those without money?’

  ‘He couldn’t.’

  ‘And there’s another thing to remember. His real name was on that envelope. He hadn’t disowned us, after all. Whoever employed him knew him as Paul Marmion. He kept the family name. That’s encouraging.’

  Ellen was sceptical. ‘I wonder.’

  ‘Let’s do what Daddy always advised me to do whenever I took an exam.’

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘Fear the worst and hope for the best.’

  ‘I’m afraid that we may have to settle for the worst.’

  ‘Don’t feel like that. Try to see this as an adventure. We’re having a nice day out in the country and we may learn something of Paul’s whereabouts. For my part, it’s like having an unexpected holiday.’

  ‘How will Iris react when she realises you’re not there?’

  Alice sighed. ‘She’s going to be very, very upset.’

  Bursting with joy and keen to tell her friend about the latest instalment in her private life, Iris Goodliffe stood with the other policewomen as they were given a briefing by Inspector Gale before being sent off on their respective beats. Iris was dismayed by the absence of Alice. It was unlike her to be late.

  ‘Excuse me, Inspector,’ said Iris. ‘What’s happened to Alice?’

  ‘She’s indisposed,’ replied the other.

  Iris was worried. ‘She’s not ill, is she?’

  ‘You heard me. She’s indisposed. Look up the word in a dictionary.’

  ‘Who am I going to walk the beat with today?’

  ‘Me,’ said a voice.

  Iris turned to see a tubby woman standing beside her with an apologetic smile. It was Jennifer Jerrold, a rather plain, dull, insignificant policewoman with thick eyebrows that met in the middle like a pair of friendly caterpillars. There was no way that Iris could confide in her. The tingling delight would have to stay bottled up inside her for another day. It would be agony.