Assassins

by Jim Eldridge

  Alf shook his head. ‘No, it ain’t their fault they’re who they are. And they ain’t bad. It’s the others, those who take advantages. Landlords who earn their fortune from houses and rooms that are unfit for a pig to live in.’

  Churchill’s Bolsheviks, thought Stark. ‘So, this Hand of Justice outfit …’ began Stark.

  Alf nodded. ‘That’s just a name, though,’ he said. ‘You gotta call it something or no one takes any notice. Though they’ll take notice once we start clearing the scum out.’

  ‘We?’ queried Stark.

  ‘Me, I’m just the start,’ said Alf. ‘I’m the blue touchpaper that sets it off. There’s more to follow. Angry ex-soldiers who feel the same way I do. Who’ve been kicked out of their homes, their jobs. And we’ve all been well trained in weapons, Captain.’ He looked hopefully at Stark. ‘You ought to join us.’

  Stark shook his head. ‘Not me, Alf,’ he said. ‘I’m on the other side of the fence. I’m a copper.’

  ‘That’s just it: you ain’t on the other side,’ insisted Alf. ‘Not like the others. You saw how wrong things were, both in the war and after. How unfair. It needs to change.’

  ‘But not like this,’ said Stark. ‘Vote. Put the people who want to change things into power.’

  ‘Vote!’ scoffed Alf. ‘If voting changed anything, they’d abolish it!’ He brandished the pistol. ‘This is the only way we’re going to change things. When they see what we’re doing, picking ’em off, they’ll soon come round.’

  Suddenly, Stark was aware that Alf had stopped, his boots were no longer heard ringing on the pavement.

  ‘This’ll do, Captain,’ he said.

  Is he going to shoot me after all? thought Stark. He’s told me too much.

  ‘Join us,’ Alf said again.

  ‘No,’ said Stark.

  There was a pause, then Alf said, ‘A clever man would say yes to make sure I didn’t shoot him.’

  ‘I was never clever in that way, Alf,’ said Stark.

  ‘No,’ said Alf. ‘You was clever in the best way. The thing is, I wanted you to know why I done it. So you’d understand. But that’s as far as it goes. If you come after me, I’m not gonna be taken. Not while things ain’t right.’

  ‘Do you really think shooting a few toffs and factory owners is going to make things right?’ queried Stark. ‘It won’t change things. If anything, it’ll only make things worse for the people at the bottom. Troops being sent in. Is that what your Hand of Justice people are after? Civil War on the streets of London?’

  There was no answer.

  ‘Alf?’ called Stark.

  His voice echoed eerily back at him from the thick fog.

  Alf Rennick had gone.

  THIRTY-SIX

  Henry and Stephen were sitting at the kitchen table, working on the model aeroplane, when Stark arrived home.

  Sarah came from the scullery at the back, wiping her hands on a towel. ‘I thought you might be home earlier tonight, after having to go out so early this morning,’ she complained.

  ‘So did I,’ said Stark. ‘But I got held up.’

  ‘By your fancy woman?’ Henry grunted.

  Stark ignored the comment. ‘We know who carried out the killings,’ he said. ‘He’s killed three so far, and he’s likely to kill again.’

  ‘Who is he?’ asked his father.

  ‘He’s an ex-soldier,’ said Stark. ‘He used to be in my unit during the war.’

  His father stared at him, dumbfounded.

  ‘Are you going to catch him, Dad?’ asked Stephen.

  ‘I am,’ nodded Stark. ‘Which means I’ve got to go out again.’

  ‘You’re not going after him on your own?’ asked Henry.

  ‘No,’ said Stark. ‘I’m going to collect Sergeant Danvers. I think I’m going to be late back.’

  ‘You were late back last night,’ Henry pointed out.

  ‘And I shall carry on being late back until we’ve caught this man,’ said Stark firmly. ‘There are people’s lives at stake.’

  ‘What about your dinner?’ asked Sarah, her expression showing she was worried that he might fade away through lack of food. He thought of the meal he had eaten the night before, and the night before that, and thought ruefully, If only you knew. Aloud, he said, ‘I’ll grab something. If you need me for anything, you can call in at Camden Town police station and leave a message. They’ll know where I am and can get hold of me.’ He looked at Stephen and apologized. ‘I’m sorry about this morning, Stephen. I’ll explain properly later.’

  ‘That’s all right, Dad,’ said Stephen. As his father headed for the door, he called out, ‘I hope you catch him!’

  Stark made his way through the fog to Camden Town police station, a handkerchief held over his nose and mouth as he walked. He was glad to see that Charlie Watts was on duty; that would make things easier.

  ‘Evening, Chief Inspector,’ Watts greeted him. ‘Bad night out.’

  ‘A bad night indeed,’ nodded Stark. ‘I need to use your phone.’

  ‘Local box not working?’

  ‘This is police business.’

  Watts handed Stark the phone, and he dialled the number of Danvers’ flat. ‘Sergeant,’ he said crisply when Danvers answered, ‘I’ve got definite confirmation that Alf Rennick is our man. But there are more people involved. We need to find out who, and we need to do it tonight. I’m sorry to do this to you when you’ve had a long day—’

  ‘That’s all right, sir,’ said Danvers. ‘It’s the job.’

  ‘In that case, I’ll get Scotland Yard to send a car to pick you up. Bring it to Camden Town police station. We’ll go on from here.’

  Next, Stark telephoned Scotland Yard and arranged for the motor pool to send a car to Danvers’ address. ‘I think we’re going to need him all night, so make sure you send a driver who isn’t about to go off shift,’ Stark instructed the motor pool sergeant.

  As Stark hung up, Watts enquired, ‘It sounds like things are moving?’

  ‘They are,’ confirmed Stark. ‘We know who carried out the shootings. Now we’ve got to stop him before he carries out any more.’

  It was another hour before the car with Sergeant Danvers arrived at Camden Town police station.

  ‘Sorry it took so long, sir,’ said Danvers. ‘It’s the fog.’

  ‘You’re here; that’s all that matters,’ said Stark. ‘Driver, take us to Hazelton Street, Bethnal Green. Do you know where it is?’

  ‘My aunt lives near there,’ said the driver. ‘But I don’t know how long it’s going to take us in this fog.’

  ‘Just get us there,’ said Stark.

  As the car made its juddering stop-start way through the fog, Stark filled Danvers in on his encounter with Alf Rennick.

  ‘So this Hand of Justice outfit is real,’ said Danvers, astonished.

  ‘If what Alf says is true, and there’s no reason to think he’s lying. So it’s not just about stopping him killing anyone else, it’s also about finding out who else is involved and stopping them. Alf said there are other ex-soldiers like him who are part of this organization, and they’re going to be carrying out assassinations as well. The trouble is, we don’t know how many of them there are – there could be just a couple, or there could be tens of them. And we don’t know how this organization is structured, who gives the orders.

  ‘Alf said he was brought into the organization by some bloke he met, but we don’t know where and how he met him.’

  ‘Is that why we’re going to Bethnal Green?’

  ‘That’s right, Sergeant. I’m hoping we’ll be able to get some answers there.’

  When they got to Hazelton Street, Stark gave Danvers instructions to wait in the car. ‘My gut feeling is that Alf will be gone. But just in case I’m wrong, keep an eye on the door of number five.’

  ‘We should have armed ourselves,’ said Danvers, concerned. ‘Alf Rennick’s got a gun.’

  Stark shook his head. ‘I know he warned me not to come aft
er him, but I really believe he won’t shoot me if he knows I’m unarmed.’

  ‘How will he know that?’ demanded Danvers.

  ‘I’ll tell him,’ said Stark simply.

  ‘And if you’re wrong?’ asked Danvers.

  Stark didn’t respond. He got out of the car and made for the Rennicks’ door. This time, when Mrs Rennick opened the door to his knock, she didn’t appear surprised. It was as if she’d been expecting this call. ‘If you’re after Alf, he’s gone,’ she said, looking at him with open hostility. ‘He took a bag and left. He said he’d be in touch.’

  That made sense. He knew that Stark would be coming after him, after his visit.

  ‘He came to see me,’ said Stark. ‘To talk. He told me he shot those three men.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m not sayin’ nuffin’.’

  ‘Mrs Rennick, I’m sympathetic to Alf. He knows that, and I think that’s why he came to see me. I know why he shot them, that business of Alice and the twins—’

  ‘They shoulda given ’er the money!’ she burst out angrily.

  ‘Yes, they should,’ agreed Stark. ‘But now it’s moved on. Alf is going to kill more people, people who were nothing to do with what happened to Alice.’

  ‘They’ll still be guilty,’ she said defensively.

  ‘Guilty of what?’ asked Stark. ‘Some of them will be innocent. Some of them will have served in the war, same as me and Alf and Ted did.’

  She shook her head. ‘No, he won’t do that. Alf won’t kill people who don’t deserve it.’ She looked at Stark challengingly. ‘He didn’t kill you, and you’re against him.’

  ‘He didn’t kill me because he wanted me to spread the word about why he’s doing it,’ said Stark. ‘And I’m going to do that. The trouble isn’t Alf, Mrs Rennick. It’s the people telling him what to do and who to shoot.’

  ‘Alf doesn’t take orders!’

  ‘Yes, he does,’ said Stark gently. ‘That’s why he was such a good soldier. I know, I was his captain. They’ll point him at someone and tell Alf to kill them, and he will. Because he believes what they’ve told him: that there’s a war on.’

  ‘There is a war!’ burst out Mrs Rennick angrily. ‘That’s what Alf said last night before he went. A war between them and us. Between those who’ve got everything and us who’ve got nothing. That’s why Alice died. That’s why the twins died. That’s why Ted died.’

  ‘Ted died fighting in the war.’

  ‘But it wasn’t our war. It was their war. Only they put our men and boys in the front line to fight it.’

  ‘It wasn’t only our kind who died, Mrs Rennick. I was there. I saw men and boys from public schools dying there as well. Rich people’s sons. Lord this, Lord that. Saw their sons mowed down by machine guns just the same way. Yes, more of us died, but that’s because there were more of us.’

  Mrs Rennick stood studying him for a moment, hesitating. Then she said, ‘You’re a clever man with words, Captain. Ted always said that about you. You could make people do what you wanted. Charm birds out of trees, he said. That’s why the men followed you, not because of that stuck-up toff of a general who was giving the orders.’

  ‘Mrs Rennick, I know why Alf did what he had to do, shooting those three men. And there’ll be plenty who’ll believe he was right, regardless of what the law says. But from now on, when he starts killing people he doesn’t know because those are who he’s told are his targets, it all changes. He’ll just be a murderer. A mad murderer. Is that how you want him remembered, instead of the hero he was, and still is? I need to find him and stop him before he kills again.’

  ‘You’ll hang him.’

  Stark shook his head. ‘That’s for a judge and jury to decide. Right now I have to protect Alf’s reputation, and that means stopping him before he kills again.’

  She fell silent. Stark could tell his words had struck home and she was racked by indecision.

  ‘What do you want me to do?’ she asked at last.

  ‘Tell me where he is.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘He said it was better for me not to know.’

  Stark nodded. ‘If he gets in touch with you, will you pass on my message? Tell him what I’ve told you, about maybe being able to get him off with prison. But he mustn’t kill again.’

  ‘I don’t know if he is going to get in touch,’ she said sadly. ‘When he said goodbye, he hugged me and kissed me like it was the last time I was gonna see him. Like when he and Ted went off to war.’

  I know that feeling, thought Stark bitterly. It had been the same for him. He had hugged Susan before he went so tightly that he was afraid she’d break. He’d wanted her to know how much she meant to him, just in case he didn’t come back. But he had come back, and Susan was the one who had died.

  ‘Is there anyone else it’s worth me talking to?’ asked Stark. ‘Pals of his. People who would know where he might have gone to? Drinking mates.’

  She shook her head. ‘He used to go to the Blue Anchor, but these past few months he’s been going somewhere else. A new crowd he’d got in with.’

  Immediately, Stark was alert, although he did his best not to show it to her. ‘Where?’ he asked.

  ‘Over Stepney way.’ She frowned, trying to remember. ‘It was a funny name for a pub.’ Then she nodded and her face cleared. ‘The Dragon Arms. Yes, that’s it. That’s where he used to go. He only told me in case I needed to get hold of him urgent. “You can always find me at the Dragon Arms, Mum,” he said.’

  The Dragon Arms, just around the corner from the offices of the Communist Party.

  Stark hesitated before asking his next question. A lot hinged on this. ‘Mrs Rennick, as I said, I need to find Alf before he shoots anyone else. Could I borrow that photo of him? The one with him and Ted? I’ll need to put it out so my men know who they’re looking for.’

  Again, she hesitated. ‘You won’t kill him?’ she asked.

  Stark shook his head. ‘If they find him, I’ll go and talk to him myself. He knows I’ll be unarmed. I’ll try to persuade him to give himself up peacefully.’

  She shook her head. ‘He won’t give himself up as simple as that,’ she said. ‘He knows he’s gone too far.’

  ‘I can try,’ Stark promised her.

  She nodded, then went into the house and came back shortly afterwards with the photo of Alf and Ted that Stark had seen on the mantelpiece.

  ‘This is the only one I’ve got of them both, Captain,’ she said.

  ‘I’ll take good care of it,’ he promised her. ‘I’ll have it copied and get it back to you.’

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  Stark returned to the car.

  ‘Everything all right, sir?’ asked Danvers.

  ‘Fine,’ said Stark. He showed Danvers the photograph of Alf and Ted Rennick. ‘She gave me this, and we’re about to make use of it. That pub where you asked about Dan Harker, the Dragon Arms?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ nodded Danvers.

  ‘That’s the place where Alf Rennick has been hanging about for the past few months.’

  ‘So you think that Dan Harker and Alf Rennick …’

  ‘I do indeed, Sergeant. You and I are going to pay a visit there right now.’

  ‘But Dan Harker is working for Special Branch!’

  ‘Never heard of double agents, Sergeant?’ He leant forward and said to the driver, ‘Stepney, please. The Dragon Arms pub in Eccles Lane.’

  The car moved off and Stark told Danvers, ‘You take the lead on this. You’ve been there before.’ He passed the photograph to Danvers. ‘But take good care of this. I’ve made someone a promise that it won’t get damaged, and I want to keep that promise.’

  The Dragon Arms was busy, all the tables weighed down with pints of beer and short whiskey glasses. Most of the crowd were men, although there were a few women, mostly older, clutching half-pints of stout. The landlord was clearing empty glasses from tables as Stark and Danvers came into the pub. He recognized the sergeant at once a
nd hurried over to them.

  ‘There’s nothing going wrong in here,’ he said. ‘It’s all legal.’

  ‘So we won’t say anything about a bit of illegal bookmaking,’ said Stark drily.

  ‘Who are you?’ demanded the landlord indignantly, but Stark noted he shot a nervous glance at one of the tables where a large man in a checked coat was hastily stuffing slips of paper into his pockets.

  ‘This is Chief Inspector Stark of Scotland Yard,’ said Danvers. He held out the photograph that Stark had given him to the landlord. ‘Do you recognize this man?’

  The landlord hesitated. ‘Which one?’ he asked.

  ‘Either of them,’ said Danvers.

  Stark purposefully gestured towards the man in the checked coat who was getting up from the table.

  ‘We could always have a word with your friend in the checked coat,’ he said. ‘See what he’s got in his pockets.’

  ‘No need for that,’ said the landlord. He nodded. ‘Yes. The one on the left.’ Alf Rennick. ‘He’s been in here.’

  ‘With the man I asked about earlier? Dan the man with the gun?’

  The barman nodded. ‘Yeah. He was part of that crowd. And sometimes he’d be here with just that Dan bloke and some other bloke, and that woman from the commie office.’

  ‘What woman?’ asked Stark, and a feeling of dread hit him in the pit of his stomach. Not Amelia!

  ‘The young one with the long black hair.’

  ‘Naomi,’ said Danvers.

  The barman shook his head. ‘I never caught her name,’ he said. He pointed at the photograph of Alf Rennick. ‘Nor his, neither. The only reason I knew the other one was called Dan was ’cos sometimes he used to sing it when he was drunk.’

  ‘Sing it?’

  ‘“I’m Dan Dan the military man”. He thought it was funny.’

  ‘You mentioned another man,’ said Stark.

  Again, the barman shook his head. ‘I never caught his name, neither. He was the one who did most of the talking. Though you couldn’t hear what he was saying ’cos he kept his voice low. The others had to lean in to hear him.’