Under Attack

by Edward Marston

  ‘How do you know that, sir?’

  ‘We were partners, Sergeant. We worked closely together.’

  ‘Yet you’d never heard of his association with Club Apollo.’

  ‘That’s true,’ admitted the other.

  ‘And you did say that your respective lives were not intertwined.’

  ‘Save yourself the trouble of searching for evidence of his adultery,’ said Sprake with asperity, ‘because it doesn’t exist.’

  ‘We’re not suggesting it does. Our question is this – since the formation of your company, have you or Mr Donohoe ever employed a woman who might fit the description of the victim?’

  ‘I don’t employ any women, Sergeant.’

  ‘Yet Miss Kane worked here for years.’

  ‘She was Gilbert’s secretary, not mine. Besides, we never regarded Hattie as a typical woman. Worthy as she undoubtedly was, she always seemed part of an intermediate species.’

  ‘That’s very unkind, sir.’

  ‘I’m not saying I didn’t like her. In fact, I grew to like Hattie very much. But she’d settled for life as a spinster and it told.’

  ‘Adrian Donohoe is more appreciative of her talents. He not only took her back to Birmingham, he’s employing her in his own office.’

  ‘That’s his prerogative.’

  ‘Indeed, it is,’ said Keedy. ‘Well, since you can’t suggest who the latest victim might be, I’d like to speak to Mr Peebles.’

  Sprake huffed. ‘He won’t be able to help you.’

  ‘Your chauffeur is single, affable, very handsome and he has French blood in his veins. Please don’t try to tell me there are no women in his life.’

  Marmion was relieved to discover that Jonathan Ulverton was not as yet at the club. He’d gone home the previous evening and would be staying in Rochester that morning so that he and his committee could go through the final details of the Dickens Festival. It allowed Marmion to have a conversation with Saul Rockwell in the certain knowledge that they wouldn’t be interrupted by one of the founders of the Club Apollo. The steward was shocked to hear of the second murder but failed to see what connection it might have had with Donohoe.

  ‘The killer doesn’t strike at random,’ explained Marmion. ‘He chooses his targets with care. We believe that there has to be a link between the two victims.’

  ‘Well, you won’t find it here, Inspector. It’s a haven for the male sex. The only woman ever seen on these premises is Miss Haddon, who plays in the quartet, and she is always watched over protectively by her father.’

  ‘What about the occasional Ladies’ Night?’

  ‘Yes, we do have women here then, but only for a couple of hours.’

  ‘And they all tend to be music-lovers, I assume?’

  ‘They are,’ said Rockwell, ‘and they’re also well above the age of the murder victim. You’ve seen our membership, sir. Their wives are all equally mature.’

  ‘Have you never employed female secretaries, cooks or waitresses?’

  ‘It’s against club policy.’

  ‘Why is the Apollo so defiantly masculine?’

  Rockwell smiled. ‘The only way to find that out is to join us.’

  ‘No, thanks,’ said Marmion. ‘I like action. This place is altogether too subdued and passive for me.’

  ‘It does have its livelier moments, sir.’

  ‘But they don’t involve women.’

  ‘I’m afraid not.’

  Marmion appraised him. ‘Did you ever meet Mrs Donohoe?’

  ‘I had the good fortune to meet her a number of times,’ said Rockwell with enthusiasm. ‘She was – and still is – a very gracious lady. Whenever she came, she always spent a long time talking to the musicians.’

  ‘How did they seem together – Mr and Mrs Donohoe, I mean?’

  ‘They were exactly as a husband and wife should be, Inspector.’

  ‘Could you be more exact?’

  ‘They were together. That doesn’t mean they spent every moment in each other’s company, because they didn’t. But they were a couple in a way that some of the members and their wives were not. That’s no criticism,’ he added, quickly. ‘It’s not my place to pass judgements. All I will say is that marriage means different things to different people.’

  Marmion immediately thought of his own wife, a loyal, loving woman who saw very little of him and with whom he’d spent even less leisure time as the years passed. Neither of them had envisaged that kind of life when they’d first married. He’d had a job in the Civil Service that entailed regular hours. Police work had pushed them apart. He counted himself fortunate that their love had survived the changes imposed on them. Clara Donohoe was not unlike Ellen in one respect. As his business activities mushroomed, she and her husband spent most of their time apart. Yet he always knew that he could rely on her.

  ‘What sort of a person is Mrs Ulverton?’ asked Marmion.

  ‘She’s a remarkable lady,’ said Rockwell. ‘She has to be to keep up with her husband. Mr Ulverton is like a force of nature. Once he sets his mind on a project, there’s no stopping him.’

  ‘Mrs Donohoe told me that she had the highest opinion of him.’

  ‘Everyone does.’

  ‘How will the Club Apollo manage without Gilbert Donohoe?’

  ‘Oh, it will thrive,’ said the steward, proudly. ‘Mr Ulverton will see to that.’

  It was not until they were clear of the hubbub at Euston Station that they were able to talk without being overheard. A full compartment on the return journey had limited them to the briefest of exchanges. Ellen and Alice could now exchange thoughts.

  ‘We came back empty-handed,’ said Ellen, sadly.

  ‘No, we didn’t, Mummy. We now know for certain where Paul’s been living and how he came to leave there. We ought to be pleased that he was able to hold down a demanding job on the farm.’

  ‘It was only until he was sacked.’

  ‘I’d like to have spoken to that girl. She backed away when she guessed we might be something to do with Paul. If he got close to the farmer’s daughter, he’ll have told her about how he came to be there in the first place. She’d know things that could have given us some reassurance.’

  ‘I don’t think I’d be reassured, Alice. I keep remembering what happened in Gillingham with Colin Fryatt’s girlfriend. Paul molested her in a church. If he’d treated the daughter like that, the farmer would have thrashed him.’

  ‘Stop expecting the worst of Paul,’ said Alice.

  ‘I didn’t hear anything good about him today – did you?’

  ‘No, but I’m ready to give him the benefit of the doubt.’

  ‘He had a job with a place to live and he threw it all away.’

  ‘Mrs Vout only told us one side of the story.’

  ‘He let himself down, Alice. I feel ashamed of him.’

  ‘Well, I don’t,’ said her daughter, ‘because I don’t know if he was entirely to blame for what happened. That girl might well have encouraged his interest. Don’t forget the two pounds. No father would pay wages like that to someone who’d assaulted his daughter. So, I disagree with you,’ she went on. ‘We didn’t come back empty-handed at all. We learnt that Paul is able to survive on his own. Discovering that has made the effort of going all the way to the farm well worth it.’

  Jean-Louis Peebles spent the first few minutes pointing out the changes he’d made to the office so that it reflected his character rather than that of Harriet Kane. He’d grown very quickly into his new and more important role there. Keedy was happy to let him do all the talking at first. Once they settled down in their seats, he took over, telling him about the second murder and gauging his reaction. Peebles was startled.

  ‘When was this, Sergeant?’ he asked.

  ‘We believe that she was killed at least a fortnight ago.’

  ‘Then it was well before Mr Donohoe’s murder.’

  ‘Yes, it was. The lady stayed in the river much longer than him and it sh
owed. I know that because I had to view the body.’

  ‘And you have no idea at all who the victim might be?’

  ‘We believe there’s a link with Mr Donohoe. That’s why I came here – to see if you or Mr Sprake could suggest the name of any woman with whom he came into contact during his time here.’

  ‘There are none that I know of, Sergeant – apart from Hattie, that is.’

  ‘You ferried him around London in the car a great deal,’ said Keedy. ‘Did you ever take him to meet a younger lady?’

  ‘His business appointments were solely with other men.’

  ‘Where did they usually take place?’

  ‘It was either here or at the Devonian Hotel.’

  Keedy fixed him with a long, penetrating stare and it was met with an unwavering half-smile. Peebles seemed to be telling the truth. The sergeant moved the conversation to a question where the man’s veracity was in doubt.

  ‘I asked you once before if you knew a Mr Thomas Day.’

  ‘My answer remains the same – I don’t.’

  ‘Yet you saw a lot of Mr Donohoe when he was in London. There was a time when he and Mr Day were partners. I can’t believe that his name didn’t slip out occasionally. Mr Sprake would certainly have heard of him because he’s one of your rivals in the property market. Did he never mention Thomas Day?’

  ‘No, he didn’t.’

  ‘Would you swear to that?’

  ‘Bring me a Bible and I’ll do it instantly,’ said Peebles. His brow furrowed. ‘Are you telling me that this Mr Day is a suspect?’

  ‘We’d just like to know who his associates in London are.’

  ‘Well, I’m not one of them, Sergeant, and neither is Mr Sprake.’

  The half-smile had a slight tinge of defiance now. However much he pressed Peebles, he decided, he wouldn’t get an honest answer. Backing off, he changed his line of questioning.

  ‘By the way,’ he said, ‘when I was talking to Mr Sprake just now, I thought he was looking rather strained.’

  ‘He’s not in the best of health, Sergeant.’ He opened a drawer and took out a couple of bottles of pills. ‘He needs regular medication.’

  ‘Are they all painkillers?’

  ‘By no means,’ said Peebles. ‘He always carries a supply of them himself because his legs are a constant problem. But he also suffers from diabetes and from a number of other conditions. Nurse Peebles has to be on hand all the time.’

  ‘There are very few chauffeurs who could do what you do, Mr Peebles.’

  ‘I’ve had to develop all kinds of skills as I go along.’

  ‘You must be very adaptable.’

  ‘I do my best.’

  After shadow-boxing with him for a few more minutes, Keedy saw that he wouldn’t be able to break down the man’s defences so he took his leave. Peebles went straight to the window and watched as the detective left the building and got into the waiting police car. As soon as it drove off, Peebles grabbed the telephone, anxious to pass on a warning to Thomas Day.

  Arriving back at Scotland Yard, the first thing that Marmion did was to report to the superintendent. Chatfield, he discovered, was in conference with the commissioner so he went back to his own office. He’d scarcely had time to sit down when there was a tap on the door and, when it opened, the face of Everitt White peeped around it. Marmion beckoned him in and got up to shake his hand. Though he was in uniform, White explained that it was his day off and he’d come in the hope of hearing the identity of the second body he’d hauled out of the river that week.

  ‘We haven’t a clue who she is, Everitt,’ confessed Marmion.

  ‘Somebody must be missing her.’

  ‘Well, they haven’t told us about it.’

  ‘Have you made an appeal to the public?’

  ‘The superintendent did that. It will be in all the papers but it may be in vain. If someone was going to come forward, they’d have done so long before now.’

  ‘The press will give you some rough treatment over this, Harvey. It was bad enough when the victim was a wealthy businessman. Now that we’ve found a naked body in the Thames, they’ll be saying that no woman in London is safe.’

  ‘We’ll find the killer,’ said Marmion, evenly.

  ‘Do you have much to go on?’

  ‘We have precious little – beyond the fact that one man killed both victims.’

  ‘He must be a sadistic bastard. I saw the bruises on that woman. She really suffered before he put her out of her misery.’

  ‘I’m grateful that you found her and not me. Joe Keedy told me what she looked like. How do you cope with terrible sights like that?’

  ‘The first time is the worst,’ said White. ‘In my case, it was when I was in the merchant navy. When we spotted the body of a man floating in the sea we didn’t realise it had been there for a long time. A boat was lowered and two of us were sent to recover him. I’ll never forget it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘When I reached out to grab his arm, it came apart from the body and more or less dissolved. I threw up straight away. We got the rest of him in a net but bits of him kept breaking away. After that experience,’ he concluded, ‘I reckoned I could put up with anything. That’s why I joined the river police. Nothing could scare me.’

  ‘Why have you taken a special interest in this latest one?’

  ‘It was because she didn’t stand a chance. Joe Keedy will have told you about the marks on her wrists and ankles. She was tied up and defenceless. When he’d had his money’s worth out of her, he killed her. People like that don’t belong in a civilised society. Catch him, Harvey.’

  ‘We’ll get him in the end.’

  ‘Let me know when you do. I’d like a quiet word with him.’

  ‘It won’t be allowed, Everitt, and you know it. I appreciate how you feel but the law must take its course. He’ll finish up at the end of a rope.’

  White glowered. ‘Then at least let me pull the bleeding lever.’

  The manager was busy when Keedy arrived at the Devonian Hotel so he had to wait for some time until Armitage finally emerged from his office. When he saw the sergeant, he gave him a reflex smile. It soon disappeared when Keedy told him about the second murder and its apparent connection with Gilbert Donohoe’s death. Armitage appeared to be distressed that the latest victim was a woman.

  ‘Do you know who she was?’ he asked.

  ‘Her identity is still unknown, sir.’

  ‘So why have you come to the Devonian? I hope you’re not going to suggest that the woman might also have been a guest here?’

  ‘That’s highly unlikely, Mr Armitage.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’

  ‘I came to tell you that Thomas Day is no longer a phantom figure. Inspector Marmion tracked him down and we both interviewed him.’ Taking out his wallet, he extracted the card and handed it over. ‘He claims that he stayed here for one night with this gentleman, Mr Brimscombe. Could you please confirm that?’

  ‘I thought you’d been carefully through our records when I was off duty,’ said Armitage, sullenly. ‘You must have seen his name.’

  ‘I can’t remember doing so.’

  ‘Then let’s go and check, shall we?’

  He led Keedy to reception and went behind the counter. Flicking the pages of the ledger, he went through the list of guests on the relevant day. After a glance at the business card, he gave a nod.

  ‘Mr Brimscombe did stay here that night. He and Mr Day had rooms next to each other.’ He handed the card back to Keedy. ‘Is that any help to you?’

  ‘Yes, it is. It would also be helpful if you could tell me whether he’s stayed here before. Brimscombe is an unusual name. Is he a regular guest?’

  ‘Not as far as I know.’

  ‘That was the impression Mr Day gave us. Brimscombe made the booking and that’s how they both came to stay here.’

  ‘That may well be so, Sergeant, but this is the first time I’ve ever heard of the gentleman. A
s a rule, I try to speak to any new guests but Mr Brimscombe eluded me somehow – though I did have a chat with Mr Day.’

  ‘We had a long conversation with him and you just proved that he told us at least one lie. My feeling is that it was Day who made the booking because he was keen to be here at a time Mr Donohoe was a guest.’

  ‘Oh, there’s no doubt about that,’ said Armitage.

  ‘How do you know?’

  Stepping out from behind the counter, he took Keedy into the lounge.

  ‘When you questioned my staff in my absence,’ said Armitage, resentfully, ‘you missed out the most important person.’

  ‘And who’s that, sir?’

  ‘It’s Vincent, our barman.’ He indicated the diminutive figure behind the bar. ‘He sees everything and forgets nothing. When I asked him about Mr Day, he came out with an intriguing piece of information.’

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘On the night that he was killed, Mr Donohoe was having a drink in here with a man who was almost certainly Thomas Day. Vincent gave a detailed description of him. Mr Day ordered a single malt whisky.’

  ‘That can’t be right,’ said Keedy, confused. ‘Donohoe fell out with him. The two men hated each other.’

  ‘Then they must have kissed and made up. My barman’s eyesight is as good as his hearing. What Vincent saw and heard when he brought their drinks across was two friends chatting happily about old times. In other words …’

  Keedy completed the sentence. ‘… they arranged to meet here.’

  Sir Edward Henry was alarmed to hear details of the second murder and to be told that they had no idea who the victim might be. The consequences were clear.

  ‘The newspapers will use this as a stick to beat us with,’ he complained.

  ‘It was ever thus, Sir Edward,’ said Chatfield.

  ‘Isn’t there something with which we could appease them?’

  ‘Reporters are wild animals. The more you feed them, the more they want.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear that you’ve put more men at Inspector Marmion’s disposal.’