Under Attack Read online

  ‘It isn’t just a question of resources, Sir Edward. What we need is help from the public. Until someone comes forward to tell us who that poor woman is, the investigation can’t really move forward.’

  ‘So we’ll remain under attack.’

  ‘Yes – unless we can deflect press interest.’

  ‘And how do you suggest that we do that, Superintendent?’

  ‘You’ve already set it in train,’ said Chatfield. ‘Your decision to tackle delinquent gangs in Stepney was both wise and necessary. If we can make an example of some of them, it will send out a message to the others. Sergeant Keedy met the man you appointed for the task – Detective Constable Burge. What he heard from him sounded promising. Burge was an inspired choice.’

  ‘You were the one who recommended him.’

  ‘I always keep my eyes open for signs of talent.’

  ‘It’s paid off in this case,’ said the commissioner. ‘Burge’s reports have been very detailed. He’s already gathered more intelligence than anyone else managed to do. According to him, a major confrontation is imminent.’

  ‘Then I hope we’re prepared to deal with it.’

  ‘We have a unit on standby. All we need is a word from Constable Burge.’

  ‘But how will he know when gang warfare is about to erupt?’

  ‘He has someone advising him who knows most of the little thugs involved.’

  Chatfield nodded grimly. ‘That should be a great help.’

  He had to be careful. All of the gangs had spies, sharp-eyed lads whose job was to monitor the activities of their rivals and warn of any police activity in the area. If he was seen too often in the same place, Clifford Burge knew that he’d arouse suspicion so he made sure that he didn’t visit the junk shop very often. As it was, the old man who ran it was already in trouble with some of the youths who’d done business with him. Having seen him earlier that morning, Burge walked casually past the place hours later. When he saw that nobody was watching, he stepped smartly into the shop. The old man curled a lip.

  ‘Thought you’d be back sooner or later,’ he said.

  ‘Any news?’

  ‘There might be.’ He held out a hand. ‘It comes expensive.’

  Burge grabbed him by the throat and pushed him against the wall.

  ‘You have a simple choice, old man. Help us or be arrested. Which is it?’

  ‘I can’t speak,’ spluttered the other.

  Burge released his grip. ‘What’s your answer?’

  ‘Don’t I get anything?’ wailed the old man.

  ‘Yes, you get a safe place to live in and a guarantee that those lads won’t be in a position to get their revenge. That’s a pretty good reward, I’d say.’

  ‘I’d prefer money.’

  ‘What have you heard?’

  ‘It’s today,’ said the other, sourly. ‘The Warriors attack at midnight.’

  Marmion was known for the speed with which he could make important decisions. The moment Keedy told him about what he’d learnt at the Devonian Hotel, the inspector led him out of the building and ordered the waiting police car to take them straight to Euston Station.

  ‘Going to Birmingham is getting to be a habit,’ said Keedy.

  ‘I’m hoping that this may be the last visit, Joe.’

  ‘Third time lucky?’

  ‘Why not?’ asked Marmion. ‘We’re due a bit of good fortune.’

  ‘Who would have thought that Donohoe and Thomas Day were friends again?’

  ‘We don’t know that they are.’

  ‘But the barman at the Devonian saw the pair of them drinking together.’

  ‘I’ve been known to have a pint with Chat before now,’ said Marmion, ‘but that doesn’t mean he and I are friends. Appearances can be deceptive. It may be that Day somehow convinced Donohoe that he’d buried the hatchet when, all the time, he was setting him up for execution.’

  ‘Do you really think Day was the killer?’

  ‘Oh, he’d never actually commit the crime. He doesn’t have enough courage for that. He’d make sure he was somewhere else at the time with a cast-iron alibi.’

  ‘What are you going to say to him?’

  ‘Nothing at all, Joe – he’s all yours.’

  ‘Why are you leaving him to me?’

  ‘You were the one who found out what he was really doing at the Devonian. That information has given the whole investigation a fillip. He did say he’d be going back to Birmingham so you should be able to corner him in his office.’

  ‘I look forward to it.’

  ‘If in doubt, threaten him with arrest. That usually loosens tongues.’

  ‘He’s a slippery customer, Harv. I’ll need my wits about me.’

  ‘You have my complete confidence,’ said Marmion, slapping him on the knee. ‘Tell him that we have a low opinion of people who tell us lies.’

  ‘What will you be doing?’

  ‘I’ll be carrying out interviews of my own.’

  ‘Who will you start with – Donohoe’s son?’

  ‘No, there’s a more important person than him.’

  ‘His mother?’

  ‘His secretary, Joe,’ said the other. ‘We’ve been overlooking a valuable source in Harriet Kane. She’s seen the drama unfold from the inside. I know that she was hired for her discretion but, in the interests of justice, I believe it’s time for her to be indiscreet.’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  After their visit to the Warwickshire countryside, they were relieved to be back in the urban sprawl of London. They belonged there. When they got back to the house that afternoon, Ellen kicked off her shoes and put them aside to be cleaned. As well as picking up mud stains, they were giving off a faintly unpleasant smell. Once she’d put her slippers on, she made a cup of tea and sat down to drink it with Alice.

  ‘Aren’t you going back to work?’ she asked.

  ‘No, thank you. Gale Force gave me the day off and I’m going to take every last minute of it.’

  ‘Iris will be missing you.’

  ‘She’s the main reason I’m staying here, Mummy. I’m not in the mood to listen to memories of a night out with PC Beckett. It’s cruel, I know, but I can only take so much of it.’

  ‘You’re only saying that because you and Joe are … having difficulties.’

  ‘That’s probably true,’ conceded Alice. ‘Am I being selfish?’

  ‘Iris will have you back tomorrow. Make the most of your time off.’

  ‘That’s what I intend to do, Mummy.’ She spooned sugar into her cup and stirred her tea. ‘Why did Paul do it?’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Why did he call himself Colin Fryatt? It’s such a strange thing to do. Colin was a pale shadow of Paul. He could never compete with my brother. The funny thing is that it was the other way round in reality.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘It was Colin who wanted to be Paul. He aped him in every way but could never actually match him. The only thing he ever did better than Paul was to play that mouth organ. Otherwise, he was just a copycat.’

  ‘Paul didn’t want the farmer to know his real name.’

  ‘I can’t see why.’

  ‘He wanted to start a new life with a new identity.’

  ‘But why pick that one?’ asked Alice. ‘It’s weird. And it was so unfair on the farmer’s daughter. She’d have believed that he really was Colin Fryatt.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘She’d befriended a dead man.’

  ‘That never occurred to me,’ said Ellen in dismay. ‘That’s an awful thing to do to the girl. I just hope she never finds out the truth.’

  ‘My hope is that he doesn’t go back for her.’

  ‘Do you think that Paul would do anything as dangerous as that?’

  ‘In the state he’s in, he could do anything. It all depends on how close they got. If it was just a friendship, he’ll forget all about her. But if Paul was in love with her – and if she felt the same about
him – he might try to rescue her.’

  ‘That’s her home, Alice. She’s not in prison.’

  ‘It may seem like it to her.’

  ‘I can’t believe Paul would do such a thing,’ decided Ellen. ‘His judgement may be unreliable but even he would realise there was no future in being on the run with a girl of that age. They’d set the police on to him.’

  ‘That idea might excite him.’

  ‘Where could they go and how could they eat?’

  ‘They’d manage somehow.’

  ‘You’ve got me worried now, Alice. I’d rather talk about something else.’

  ‘Very well,’ said the other. ‘The simple truth is that we’ll never guess what Paul is really going to do because we don’t understand how his mind works.’

  ‘I used to when he was younger,’ said Ellen, plaintively, ‘but not any more.’ She looked quizzically at her daughter. ‘What are you going to do about Joe? That’s the other thing preying on my mind.’

  ‘You worry far too much.’

  ‘Then stop giving me cause for anxiety. This … estrangement has upset me.’

  ‘It’s not an estrangement, Mummy.’

  ‘Then what would you call it?’

  ‘I’d call it stupidity on both our parts. We each want our own way.’

  ‘Your father and I were the same at your age. We had our rows but we made sure they never pushed us into opposite corners.’

  ‘I desperately want a compromise,’ said Alice, earnestly, ‘but something is holding me back from suggesting it.’

  ‘Joe has the same problem, I fancy.’

  ‘So what do we do?’

  ‘Nothing at all,’ said Ellen. ‘You wait for the dust to settle, then you carry on where you left off. Above all else, forget about a date for the wedding.’

  As the train steamed through Warwickshire, Marmion glanced out of the window and wondered how his wife and daughter had got on at the farm. It grieved him that something as important as Paul’s sudden reappearance had to be set aside in favour of the murder investigations. News of where Paul had been working made him want to down everything and get to Corley Hall Farm as fast as he could. He chided himself for being unable to trace him there during his ten-day search. It was pure luck that a letter was sent to his son. Chance had contrived what he could not.

  For his part, Keedy was thinking about Alice, but not because she’d been on the trail of her brother. He wished that their compartment was empty and that he’d be able to talk to Marmion in the same way that Alice talked to her mother. But it was impossible. Too many things got in the way. Besides, he believed, men never shared their emotional woes. They preferred to keep them hidden. He’d find it much too embarrassing to wear his heart on his sleeve. All he could do was to brood on his folly in falling out with the woman he loved and hope that they’d soon be together again.

  As the train began to slow, he realised that they were approaching their destination. Marmion leant across to give him some advice.

  ‘Don’t let him talk his way out of it, Joe. Put him under pressure.’

  ‘I’ll do my best.’

  ‘You’ve got the advantage of surprise. Use it to the full.’

  Jean-Louis Peebles was reading some correspondence when the telephone rang. It was a summons from his employer. Putting the letters aside, he hurried downstairs and went into Sprake’s office. The old man looked pale and drawn.

  ‘I don’t feel very well,’ he explained. ‘Take me home, Jean-Louis.’

  ‘What about your tablets, sir?’

  ‘I’ve had two of those.’

  ‘Did they have no effect?’

  ‘None at all – get me out of here, please. And don’t worry about me,’ said Sprake, struggling to his feet, ‘after a couple of hours in bed, I’ll be as right as rain.’

  Peebles steadied him. ‘Sergeant Keedy noticed how unwell you seemed.’

  ‘As you know, I have good days and bad days. This is one of the latter.’

  ‘Lean on me, sir. We’ll soon get you out of here.’

  He helped Sprake out of the room and into the wheelchair waiting in the corridor. Once the old man was seated in that, he could be wheeled out to the car then lifted into the back seat. Peebles put a blanket over his legs. When he got into the driving seat, he reached for the peaked cap beside him and put it on.

  ‘What did the sergeant say to you?’ asked Sprake.

  ‘It was nothing important, sir. To be frank, I don’t know why he bothered to speak to me. It was a waste of his time.’

  Starting the engine, he drove slowly away from the building.

  Thomas Day was taken aback by the unheralded arrival of Keedy. For once in his life, he was lost for words. He invited his visitor in, offered him refreshment and tried to buy time to compose himself. Keedy looked around the office. Patently, it belonged to a prosperous man and had his character imprinted all over it. Declining the offer of a cup of tea, Keedy hurled his first accusation.

  ‘Why did you lie to us, Mr Day?’

  ‘I wasn’t aware that I did.’

  ‘You told us that you never even met Mr Donohoe when you stayed at the Devonian Hotel. You were only there at the behest of Mr Brimscombe.’

  ‘That’s right. Reggie Brimscombe will corroborate that.’

  ‘And will he corroborate the fact that you were seen drinking with Gilbert Donohoe in the lounge?’ Day’s lip twitched involuntarily. ‘Thanks to the manager, I discovered the truth. The barman remembered you well. I spoke to him. You drank a single malt whisky. Mr Donohoe preferred a brandy.’

  ‘Where is all this leading, Sergeant?’

  ‘Unless you can start telling the truth, it could lead to your arrest. How would your staff react if they saw me taking you out of here in a pair of handcuffs?’

  ‘There’s no need for that, surely?’

  ‘That’s up to you, sir.’

  Day lapsed into silence. Caught off balance, he was trying to regain his equilibrium. He realised that Keedy was more intelligent than he appeared. When he’d been questioned by the two detectives, it was the inspector who’d asked the more searching questions. He now learnt that the sergeant also had the power to unnerve him.

  ‘You don’t understand the situation,’ said Day.

  ‘That’s because you concealed it from us, sir.’

  ‘I was forced to do so.’

  ‘Were you? I didn’t see anyone twisting your arm.’

  ‘The business world is vicious, Sergeant. It’s a case of dog eat dog.’

  ‘Oh, I think the dinner menu at the Devonian runs to something a lot tastier than dog.’

  ‘I was speaking figuratively.’

  ‘You mean that you’re telling me a lie by means of a metaphor?’

  ‘I’m not going to bandy words with you. What happened was this …’

  The explanation came out so smoothly that it was almost as if Day had been rehearsing it before Keedy arrived. There had recently been a truce between him and Donohoe, the estate agent said. Since they were operating largely in the same city, it was foolish of them to maintain their earlier stance of hostility. When he heard that Donohoe was going to London for a few days, Day stayed at the same hotel so that they could patch up their differences. It was not something either of them wanted to broadcast to the wider business community. In any case, they didn’t intend to go into partnership again. They simply wanted to put their relationship on a better footing because they were each in a position to do the other favours. In the course of his speech, Day gathered momentum. His voice became more assured and his gestures more expressive.

  ‘So you see, Sergeant,’ he said in conclusion, ‘your journey was in vain.’

  ‘All you’ve done is to substitute one pack of lies for another.’

  ‘I dispute that.’

  ‘Why go all the way to London for a meeting with Mr Donohoe that could much more easily have taken place here in Birmingham?’

  ‘I preferred to meet him
on neutral ground.’

  ‘You originally said you had no idea Mr Donohoe was actually staying at the hotel.’

  ‘That bit wasn’t quite true.’

  ‘Ah, you’ve made a concession at last.’

  ‘There’s no need to be sarcastic.’

  ‘Then don’t give me the opportunity, sir,’ said Keedy, ‘and don’t start waving your friend Mr Brimscombe at me either. I think that you went to the Devonian for one reason and that was to meet Mr Donohoe. What isn’t so clear is what part you played in his murder.’

  ‘I played none at all,’ shouted Day, leaping to his feet.

  ‘We can do without a display of righteous indignation.’

  ‘I’ll be reporting you to your superintendent after this.’

  ‘He’s looking forward to meeting you, Mr Day. Ever since your name came to our attention, he’s wanted to know more about you. So have we. You fascinate us. If you want to get us off your back, all you have to do is tell us the truth. I know it will be painful for someone so accustomed to dishonesty as you but, for your own sake, I suggest that you make the effort.’

  Day retreated into silence and looked like an animal at bay.

  Marmion arrived at the factory in Northfield to discover that Adrian Donohoe was not there. Instead of having to ask his permission to speak to Harriet Kane, he found her conveniently alone in the office.

  ‘Mr Donohoe is at home,’ she told him. ‘He’s had word that the body will soon be released for burial so he’s discussing funeral arrangements with his mother.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘It’s not the ideal time to approach him, Inspector.’

  ‘Actually, I came to see you, Miss Kane.’

  She was astounded. ‘Me?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘and I’m pleased to see that you’re alone for once. We’re unlikely to be interrupted.’

  ‘There’s nothing I can tell you.’

  ‘I suspect that there’s a great deal. Before I ask any questions, however, I should tell you that we’ve recovered a second body from the Thames. It’s that of a woman who was killed in exactly the same way as Mr Donohoe.’