Five Dead Canaries Read online

  From Alice’s point of view, there was one great drawback to the move. She was under the strict supervision of someone who clearly disliked her.

  ‘Who is she?’ asked Ellen.

  ‘Thelma Gale,’ said her daughter, ‘or, as she insists on being called, Inspector Gale. If you met her, you’d see why her nickname is “Gale Force”. When her temper is up, she’s like a one-woman hurricane.’

  ‘And she treats you badly?’

  ‘She treats all of us badly. Power has gone to her head.’

  ‘But you said that she keeps picking on you.’

  ‘Yes, I can’t do anything right for Inspector Gale.’

  ‘Have you complained?’

  ‘What’s the point?’ replied Alice. ‘Her job is to give orders and mine is to obey them. That’s all there is to it.’

  ‘I don’t like the thought of you being harassed by her all the time.’

  ‘I’ll survive, Mummy.’

  ‘Why not ask your father to intervene?’

  Alice smiled. ‘Daddy is at the root of the problem.’

  ‘Oh? I can’t see why.’

  ‘Everyone at Scotland Yard knows and respects Inspector Marmion. When he solved those murders in Shoreditch, he became really famous; and people still talk about his other triumphs. It was the first thing Inspector Gale told me,’ recalled Alice. ‘She warned me that I wasn’t to expect any favours because my father was in the Metropolitan Police. And she said it so nastily. That’s what upset me.’

  ‘Is there a Mr Gale?’

  ‘No, she’s not married. She’d frighten any man off.’

  Ellen was disturbed. ‘She’s not one of those suffragettes, is she?’

  ‘Yes, and it’s the one good thing in her favour,’ said Alice before correcting herself. ‘No, that’s unfair. Gale Force is very efficient at her job and works like a Trojan. Women police are still very much there on sufferance but she won’t let any of the men patronise us. She’ll even stand up to the commissioner.’

  ‘That takes a lot of doing.’

  ‘I just wish that she wouldn’t keep throwing her weight around.’

  ‘Have you told Joe about this?’

  ‘No, Mummy. I can look after myself.’

  ‘He might be able to give you advice.’

  ‘Joe has his own problems with Superintendent Chatfield – so does Daddy, for that matter. Superior officers always like to pull rank. I’ll just have to grin and bear it.’ Alice glanced at the clock once more. ‘Heavens! Is it that late? I’d better go.’

  ‘You can always stay the night,’ suggested Ellen. ‘Your bed is made up.’

  Alice spoke with quiet firmness. ‘It’s not my bed any more, Mummy.’

  ‘Well, it is to me.’

  ‘I must be off.’

  The moment that Alice rose to her feet, the telephone rang. Ellen got up and rushed into the hallway to grab the instrument. Her daughter could hear the mixture of pleasure and fatigue in her voice. When she eventually came back into the living room, Ellen was beaming.

  ‘Your father’s on his way back – and so is Joe. You’ll have to stay now.’

  Marmion and Keedy sat in the back of the car as they were driven in the direction of central London. It gave them an opportunity to review what they’d so far established.

  ‘Let’s start with the positives,’ said Marmion.

  ‘I didn’t know there were any, Harv.’

  ‘We’ve just talked to one of them.’

  ‘Maureen Quinn?’

  ‘She’s a survivor, Joe. She was in that outhouse only minutes before it went off. Without realising it, she’s a source of valuable information. If her father hadn’t been there, we’d have got far more of it out of her.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Keedy, ‘he was an awkward customer, wasn’t he?’

  ‘More to the point, he doesn’t like policemen. He made that clear. As a rule, that means one thing. He’s been in trouble.’

  ‘Is it worth checking up on that?’

  ‘I think so.’

  Keedy lurched sideways as the car went around a tight corner.

  ‘Right,’ he said, sitting up straight again, ‘what are the other positives?’

  ‘The local police were very cooperative. They don’t always put the flags out for what they see as overpaid detectives from Scotland Yard.’

  Keedy snorted. ‘Overpaid! Is that what we are? I can’t say I’ve noticed.’

  ‘We’ve got them on our side, Joe. That will save a lot of time arguing over boundaries. They accept that we’re in charge. Another positive is that man you spoke to when you went to the factory?’

  ‘Mr Kennett is the works manager.’

  ‘According to you, he promised all the help we’ll need.’

  ‘He sounded like a thoroughly decent man, Harv. He was close to tears when I told him that five of his female employees had been blown up at that pub.’

  ‘Then we come to the last and best positive.’

  ‘And what’s that?’

  ‘We don’t have to go back to the Yard to tell Chat what we’ve been up to.’

  Keedy laughed. ‘That’s a huge relief,’ he said. ‘Chat is bad enough in the daytime when he’s full of beans. By late evening, he gets tired and that makes him even more fractious. He’s like a bear with a sore head.’

  ‘That’s why I advised him to go home.’

  After exchanging a few jokes about the superintendent, they turned their minds back to the case in hand. Marmion listed all the things they had to do on the following day. They had to deliver a comprehensive report to Claude Chatfield, then appear at a press conference, asking crime correspondents of newspapers to broadcast an appeal for anyone who saw any suspicious activity near the Golden Goose recently to come forward. Detectives would be deployed to go from house to house in the area in search of potential witnesses.

  ‘That outhouse was kept locked,’ said Marmion. ‘How did the bomber gain access to it to plant his device?’

  ‘And how sophisticated was the bomb?’

  ‘It was sophisticated enough to do the job, Joe. That’s what really matters. But it will be interesting to see what the experts say when they’ve collected enough bomb fragments. It should tell us if we’re looking for a rank amateur or for someone who works at the factory and is used to handling explosives.’

  ‘Do you still think someone had a grudge against one of those women?’

  ‘Yes, I do – against one or all of them. It may be some crank who objects to the very idea of women doing jobs always done by men in the past.’

  ‘There’s another way of looking at this,’ mused Keedy.

  ‘Is there?’

  ‘What if the real target was the landlord? Somebody could have fallen out with him or been banned from the pub. When he blew up that outhouse, he might have been completely unaware of the fact that someone was inside.’

  ‘It’s an idea worth considering, Joe, but there’s one thing against it.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Anyone who hated Mr Hubbard enough to plant a bomb on the premises would surely want to cause maximum damage. He’d blow up the pub itself,’ said Marmion, thoughtfully. ‘And I reckon he’d do it after dark so that no customers would be injured. If the landlord was the target, the best time to set off an explosion would be when he’s completely off guard, snoring in bed beside his wife.’

  ‘I still think we shouldn’t rule him out, Harv.’

  ‘Agreed – we keep every option on the table.’

  ‘That brings us back to the five victims.’

  ‘Yes,’ sighed Marmion, ‘and it confronts us with a massive problem. You know how people are when they’re bereaved. They withdraw into themselves. The parents of those girls won’t like it if we start prying into the private lives of their daughters – well, look at the trouble we had with Mrs Radcliffe. She was very defensive. Like her, the others will just want to be left alone to mourn. We’ll be seen as intruders.’

 
‘There’s nothing new in that.’ Keedy was struck by a sudden thought. ‘Let’s suppose you’re right, Harv, and that one of those six girls was the target.’ He turned to Marmion. ‘What if it had been Maureen Quinn? Amazingly, she survived. When he discovers that, will the bomber have another crack at her?’

  Though they tried to relax, Ellen and Alice were on tenterhooks. Every so often, one of them would go to the window and peer through the curtains. Marmion had rung home from Uxbridge police station. The two women tried to work out how long it would take a car to drive back to the house, assuming that it was keeping to the speed limit. Because her knowledge of geography was poor, Ellen’s estimate was wildly optimistic. During her time with the Women’s Emergency Corps, Alice had driven a lorry all over London and well beyond it. She had a clearer idea of how long it took to get from place to place. She was nevertheless impatient and chafed at the delay. When they heard a car approach the house and slow to a halt, it was Alice who leapt to her feet and rushed to the door. She was in time to see the detectives getting out of the vehicle and ran into Keedy’s embrace.

  ‘I’m so glad you’re back at last,’ she said, breathlessly.

  ‘Sorry about this evening, Alice,’ he apologised.

  ‘There’ll be other times.’

  She kissed him on the cheek, then became aware of her father standing there.

  ‘Don’t I get a welcome home?’ he asked with a slight edge.

  ‘Of course, you do,’ she said, hugging him. ‘Hello, Daddy.’

  The car drove off and the three of them went into the house. Ellen collected a routine peck on the cheek from her husband then took him into the kitchen. Keedy and Alice followed them.

  ‘There’s a meal in the oven, if you’re not too tired to eat it,’ said Ellen. ‘And there’s more than enough for you, Joe.’

  ‘I’m starving,’ said Keedy.

  ‘We haven’t had a thing since we heard the news from Hayes,’ said Marmion, inhaling the aroma that came from the oven as Ellen opened the door. ‘That smells good. Thanks for having something ready for us, love.’

  ‘I know how hungry policemen can get.’

  ‘But where’ve you been?’ asked Alice. ‘And why did you go there? Tell me everything. I can’t wait to hear the details.’

  ‘They’re not very pleasant,’ warned her father.

  ‘Why is that, Daddy?’

  He exchanged a glance with Keedy. ‘Let’s get some grub inside us first.’

  ‘I second that, Harv,’ said the other, rubbing his hands.

  It was not long before all four of them were seated around the table. While Marmion and Keedy devoured their food, the women had yet another cup of tea. It was an odd situation but one which was likely to recur time and again now that Keedy was about to join the family. Ordinarily, Marmion would say very little to his wife about the cases on which he was working. He took special care to keep any horrific details from her but he could hardly do that now. Since his daughter was pressing him for information, Ellen was bound to hear it as well. She gave him an encouraging smile, as if indicating that she had no qualms about what he might say.

  Choosing his words carefully, Marmion told them about the crisis that had made them hare off to Hayes in a fast car. Both women were appalled. The idea of one female victim was enough to upset them. The fact that five had been blown to pieces made them shudder. They found it difficult to imagine how gruesome the scene of the crime must have been. Alice was the first to recover from the shock. Ellen was numbed and left all the questions to her daughter.

  ‘Why would anyone want to murder some munition workers?’ she asked.

  ‘That’s not what they’ll be called in the papers,’ said her father. ‘They’ll be described as canaries. They’ll be robbed of their dignity and simply be lumped together as munitionettes.’

  ‘That’s terrible, Daddy. They were five separate individuals.’

  ‘We discovered that from the survivor,’ said Keedy. ‘She told us how different they all were from each other and Mrs Radcliffe – the mother of one of the girls – told us a little about her daughter. In the normal course of events, all six of them would probably never have been friends. Well,’ he corrected, ‘two of them might have been because they lived so close to each other in Uxbridge, but the rest were scattered all over the place in Hayes. What brought them together was the war.’

  ‘It brought them together, then killed them,’ remarked Ellen.

  ‘What a terrible way to lose their lives,’ said Alice, face taut. ‘They went off happily to a birthday party without realising that they were walking into a death trap. It’s dreadful. What kind of a monster could do such a thing?’ She swung round to face her father. ‘Do you have any idea who he could be?’

  ‘No, Alice,’ admitted Marmion, ‘but his signature tells us something about him. He’s cold, ruthless, calculating and has no concern for the value of human life. The chances are that he was ready to sacrifice innocent young women in order to kill the person he was really after.’

  ‘And who was that?’

  ‘We haven’t worked it out yet,’ said Keedy. ‘We’re still at a very early stage of the investigation.’

  ‘Needless to say,’ cautioned Marmion, ‘everything that we’ve told you has been confidential. Nothing – not a single word – must be repeated to anyone at work, Alice. When your colleagues know that I’m in charge of the case, you’re bound to be asked. You must lie your head off.’

  ‘That’s not easy for someone as honest as her,’ said Ellen.

  ‘Yes, it is, Mummy,’ said Alice. ‘When I know how important it is to be discreet, I can be. I won’t tell a soul.’

  Marmion put a hand on her arm. ‘Good girl.’

  ‘But that doesn’t mean I want to be kept in the dark from now on.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well,’ she said, eyes glistening with interest, ‘this case is fascinating. It’s all about six young women of my age or thereabouts. I have some idea of how they might think and act. It’s the one advantage I have over you and Joe. I don’t want to be co-opted on to the investigation – that would be impossible – but I would like to know about any developments. Who knows? I might be able to offer some useful ideas.’

  Marmion was caught momentarily off balance and Keedy looked less than enthusiastic about her offer. Both of them were having second thoughts about the wisdom of discussing the case so freely with her. Alice wanted to be included. They traded a look of mild desperation, neither of them knowing quite what to say.

  Alice was forceful. ‘What have you got against me?’ she demanded. ‘I might actually be able to help. I’m in the police force as well, remember.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Since neither of his daughters was leaving the house that day, it was Eamonn Quinn who was the first to get up. He liked to get to the coal yard early so that he had the pick of the bags. After he’d had a swill in the kitchen sink, his face was relatively clean. It would be black by the time he came home in the evening. Like his elder daughter, he had a job that changed his colour completely. The difference was that Maureen’s yellow patina could not be washed off with cold water. On his visit to the privy, he had his first cigarette of the day and reflected on the distressing events at the Golden Goose. They’d give Maureen a worrying prominence. He’d feel the effects himself as his customers bombarded him on the doorstep with questions about what exactly had happened and how his daughter was coping with the fraught situation. It was the kind of interest that he’d never willingly seek. Others might bask in it but Quinn was a man who shunned attention.

  By the time he returned to the kitchen, he found the kettle on the gas stove and his wife preparing his breakfast. Diane was still sleepy, moving as if in a dream and yawning intermittently. She tried to shake herself fully awake.

  ‘It feels funny, doesn’t it?’ she said.

  ‘What does?’

  ‘Most mornings, Maureen would have left hours ago. She�
��d be at work before either of us got up. It seems strange having her still here.’

  ‘It’s not strange, Di, it’s necessary.’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘She’s had a terrible time. She needs to recover.’

  ‘Maureen was shivering all over when I put her to bed last night.’

  ‘I blame them,’ said Quinn, curling a lip. ‘Those coppers were wrong to keep on at her like that. They wore the poor girl down.’

  ‘What do I do if they come back, Eamonn?’

  ‘Keep them away from her.’

  ‘But they’re from Scotland Yard.’

  ‘I don’t care where the buggers come from,’ he said, rancorously. ‘I don’t want them battering her with questions again. Maureen is not up to it.’

  ‘She’s stronger than she looks,’ said Diane, turning off the gas and pouring hot water into the teapot. ‘Working in that factory has made her grow up fast. Well, you’ve noticed it yourself. Maureen used to be very shy but she’s got a lot more confidence now.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean she’s up to being interrogated by those two.’

  ‘They need information, Eamonn.’

  ‘Whose side are you on?’ he snarled. ‘This is our daughter, Di, and we’ve got to protect her. You know what I think about coppers. Don’t let them into the house.’

  ‘What am I to say to them?’

  ‘Any excuse will do. Just get rid of them.’