The Death of Kings

by Rennie George Airth

  ‘It’s only about five minutes from here, sir.’

  Lily had to shout into Madden’s ear, so loud was the drumming of the rain on their spread umbrellas. She was leading them down a narrow lane walled on either side by darkened buildings, some of them whole, others damaged beyond repair. Lying well downriver on a tongue of land called the Isle of Dogs, which was enclosed on three sides by a great loop in the Thames, the docks had been heavily bombed during the war, as Madden was well aware, and although a programme of reconstruction had been under way since the end of hostilities, with funds in short supply, many sheds and office buildings still stood derelict.

  Little had been said during the drive across London. Although Jessup had taken it for granted that his guest would want to accompany him, he had sat silent as they followed the course of the river, past his company’s offices on Cheapside and on through the deserted night-time streets of Wapping and Limehouse, heading for the great dock complex. He had already told Madden all he knew before they left the club.

  ‘The murder was reported more than an hour ago, according to Inspector Styles, but it took awhile to get a squad of detectives assembled and then to find out what had happened. The best guess seems to be that Stanley was making a run for it, trying to smuggle himself out of the country aboard a freighter, and somehow the Triads got wind of it.’

  Madden, for his part, had failed to rid himself of the disturbing notion that had come to him while he was sitting on his own at the table waiting for Sir Richard to return. Although he had tried to dismiss it from his mind—it had been prompted by an incident so trivial it hardly seemed worth thinking about—the thought continued to nag at him.

  Lily tugged at his sleeve.

  ‘There we are, sir.’ She pointed to a lighted doorway ahead of them. ‘You’ll find everyone inside.’

  A few seconds later, ushered out of the rain and relieved of their umbrellas by a waiting constable, they found themselves standing in the shell of a large warehouse empty of goods whose high roof was all but lost to view in the darkness above. What light there was came from a pair of standing lamps whose long cords snaked across the cement floor to an electrical outlet. Like stage spotlights, their beams were trained on an area in the middle of the cement floor where a round object lay. Although they were still too distant from the scene to make out any details, Madden had little doubt that it was a decapitated head they were looking at, and his presentiment was confirmed moments later as they approached the spot and he saw the face distorted by a hideous grin and the wide pool of dried blood surrounding it.

  Instinctively he glanced at Jessup, who had come to a halt beside him. He was staring at the object with a look of mingled horror and disbelief.

  ‘Sir Richard . . . !’

  Billy had just noticed their arrival. He had been standing with a group of detectives at the edge of the illuminated area, watching as a police photographer circled the spot snapping shots from different angles. He hurried over to them.

  ‘I’m sorry to drag you out on a night like this, sir.’ He addressed his words to Jessup, though with a quick glance at Madden. ‘But we can’t be sure it’s Wing from the photograph you lent us.’ He tapped his breast pocket. ‘The features are twisted and . . .’

  ‘It’s him.’ Jessup’s gaze was riveted on the ghastly spectacle in front of them. ‘That’s Stanley Wing.’

  ‘Ah . . .’ Billy let out a sigh. ‘It’s settled, then. We had to be sure.’

  He caught Madden’s eye.

  ‘I didn’t expect to see you, sir.’

  ‘I was having dinner with Sir Richard when you called. Who found the head, Billy?’

  ‘The river police. They’ve got a station near the dock gates. A couple of their officers were on a routine patrol around the North Dock. It’s where imports are offloaded and the police check the warehouses as a matter of course. This shed we’re in is a new one. It’s not in use yet. The builders are still putting the finishing touches to it and the officers would probably have walked right past it if one of them hadn’t heard faint noises coming from inside. They stopped and shone their torches in. At first they didn’t see anything; then one of them spotted something lying on the floor and they went over to investigate.’

  Billy shrugged.

  ‘They realised they must have just missed whoever did this.’ He gestured towards the head. ‘The warehouse was empty. But there was another door on the other side from where they’d come in—that one there.’ He pointed. ‘They went over to have a look, but they couldn’t see anyone outside. It was dark and the area behind this shed is still pretty much as it was at the end of the war: just a lot of damaged buildings. They decided the best thing to do was to report their find, so one of them stayed here while the other ran back to the station. The news was telephoned to the Yard quick enough, and when the duty officer heard about the head he rang me at home and I came over here at once. It seemed likely that the victim was Wing, but I didn’t know how to get hold of you, sir.’ He looked at Jessup. ‘So I rang your number in Hampshire and spoke to Mrs Castleton. She told me to try your club.’

  Jessup was silent. He had been standing motionless for long minutes, seemingly unable to tear his eyes from the grisly sight before him.

  ‘We’ll have to wait for the pathologist, but it looks like a clean blow to me.’ Billy felt he had to say something. ‘At a guess I’d say an axe was used.’

  Jessup stirred.

  ‘What about the body?’ he asked.

  ‘River police officers are searching the area now, but what with it being dark and a lot of these buildings still in ruins it won’t be easy. And the rain isn’t helping, either.’ He beckoned to Lily. ‘Get hold of an umbrella, Lil, and see if you can locate Joe Grace. I want to know if they’ve found anything.’

  He turned back.

  ‘As I understand it, sir, you told Mr Madden that this particular gang gets rid of its victims’ bodies.’

  ‘That’s correct, Inspector.’ Jessup spoke in a dead voice. ‘They leave only the head. It’s intended to instil fear in their own ranks: to warn backsliders what may lie in wait for them if they break their oaths. Ideally they like to make a ceremony of it and conduct the execution before a select audience, or so I’ve been told. I dare say it wasn’t possible in this case. They must have felt they had to kill Wing on the spot. But word will get out: the discovery of his head is bound to be reported, and that will be enough to send out a message.’

  ‘On the spot, you say, sir?’ Billy frowned. ‘So you agree he was probably trying to escape?’

  ‘It does look that way, doesn’t it?’ Jessup shrugged wearily. ‘I expect you’ll find there’s at least one freighter in the docks due to weigh anchor in the next few hours; if it hasn’t slipped its moorings already.’

  ‘We thought of that, sir. There’s a Chinese vessel, Hong Kong registered, due to cast off in a couple of hours. I sent DS Grace aboard to question the captain, but he swore he knew nothing about it. All his crew were aboard, he said. He brought them up on deck for Grace’s inspection and showed him a list of their names. That doesn’t mean anything. I doubt Wing’s would have been among them, or any other name he might have been using. But what I don’t understand was how he could have arranged it. He can’t have that many contacts in London.’

  ‘All he needed was one, Inspector.’ Jessup’s tone was bleak.

  Billy studied his face. He shot a questioning glance at Madden.

  ‘Are you saying you know who that might be, sir?’

  Jessup opened his mouth to reply, but then seemed to change his mind. He stood biting his lip.

  ‘Sir . . . ?’ Billy prompted him.

  ‘This is only a guess, Inspector, and I wouldn’t want you to take it as gospel.’ Jessup spoke finally. ‘I dare say Mr Madden told you about the two Chinese men who called on me recently asking if I had news of Wing. One of the
m was a business man called Lin Jie. Although I’ve no proof of it, I’ve reason to believe that he and Wing were involved in importing Chinese relics into this country illegally some years ago. And given that it was Lin whom the Triads chose to approach when they began searching for Stanley, it does seem likely they had a past connection.’

  ‘So what you’re suggesting is it might have been this Lin fellow who arranged for Wing to slip out of the country, and that somehow the Triads got wind of it.’

  Jessup nodded. ‘But don’t imagine for a moment that he’ll admit to anything. He’ll plead complete ignorance and nothing you or I or anyone else might say to him will alter that. He may have been hoping that if the Triads learned that Wing had left the country they would leave him alone.’

  Billy turned to Madden.

  ‘What do you think, sir?’

  Madden came to himself with a start. His mind had been wandering.

  ‘I really can’t say, Billy.’ He forced himself to concentrate on the moment. ‘But I’m wondering how Wing got into the docks.’

  ‘There’s an immigration office at the gates,’ Billy explained. ‘They told us that a number of Chinese came through tonight, all merchant seamen, and their papers were checked. Wing could have been among them. Even if he was travelling on a false passport, it might have been good enough to pass muster.’ Billy scratched his head. ‘But it’s these killers who really puzzle me—how did they gain entry? They couldn’t have just walked through the gates with the others. And there’s a twenty-foot wall around the whole dock complex.’

  ‘I can tell you that, guv.’

  Billy swung round to see Joe Grace standing behind him in a puddle of water with Lily at his side. She skipped away smartly as he shook himself like a dog, sending a spray of water from his dripping hair and coat.

  ‘Watch it, Sarge!’ she protested. Joe grinned.

  ‘Me and some of the lads have just found a gate at the top of the docks that ought to be locked, but isn’t. According to the river police it’s open during the day, but locked at night with a chain and padlock. Someone’s gone to work with a bolt-cutter. The chain’s been cut. That’s how they got in, and they left the same way. In fact, they were spotted.’

  ‘By who?’

  ‘A bloke who’s got a fish-and-chips shop across the road. He stays open late because of seamen reporting for duty, but he’d closed for the night and gone upstairs to his flat when he saw half a dozen men coming out of that gate which he knew was usually kept locked, which was why he noticed them. They had a bakery van parked there . . .’

  ‘A bakery van . . . !’ Billy was disbelieving.

  ‘That’s what he said.’ Joe flashed his wolfish grin. ‘But he didn’t take note of the name, more’s the pity. Anyway, just before nine, which is when we know Wing was topped, he saw these blokes come out through the gate, and they were carrying something.’

  ‘Like a body?’

  ‘Could have been.’ Joe shrugged. ‘There were two of them toting it. But it was wrapped in something, cloth or canvas is my guess, and that’s all he saw. The men stuck it in the back of the van and off they all went. And before you ask, guv, he couldn’t describe them, couldn’t even say if they were Chinks, it was too dark. But they were all dressed in black.’

  ‘A bakery van . . .’ Billy repeated the words. ‘Well, it’s a start at least. We’ll get onto it right away.’

  He looked around him. The photographer had finished his work. The other detectives he had brought with him were standing idle.

  ‘You’d better fetch those officers in and out of the rain,’ he told Grace. ‘There’s no point in them searching any longer.’

  He turned to Jessup.

  ‘I’m just waiting for the pathologist to arrive before we remove the head, sir. There’s no call for you to stay any longer. And again, I’m sorry for having dragged you down here.’

  ‘Don’t apologise, Inspector.’ Jessup rested his tired gaze on Billy. ‘I can’t help feeling this was always going to happen—if not here, then some other place.’

  ‘You mean the Triads were bound to catch up with him sooner or later?’

  ‘That’s always been their reputation. Stanley must have known he was living on borrowed time.’

  He turned to Madden.

  ‘John . . . ?’

  ‘Yes, I’m coming, Richard.’

  Madden turned, more than ready to leave now, but then paused when he saw that Jessup hadn’t moved. Once again he was gazing down at the bloodied object lying on the floor at his feet.

  ‘I can’t deny I’d hoped to see this man arrested and stand trial for what he’s done.’ He lifted his eyes to meet Billy’s gaze. ‘But I wouldn’t wish an end like this on anyone.’

  26

  BIG BEN WAS CHIMING the hour as they turned off the Embankment and drove past Parliament Square towards Whitehall. Although the storm had passed, the streets, still wet, shone like mirrors in the lamplight. Looking at his watch, Madden saw that it was midnight.

  ‘At least you won’t have to drive me to Hampshire, Ted.’ Jessup spoke from the back of the car, where he and Madden were sitting. ‘I’m going to sleep at the club. We’ll go down tomorrow.’

  He turned to Madden.

  ‘I’m sorry, John. I had no idea the evening would turn out this way.’

  Madden was silent. He’d not spoken since they had left the docks. Jessup examined his face.

  ‘You look worried,’ he said.

  ‘I’ve been trying to work out how those men got hold of Wing.’

  It wasn’t altogether true. His thoughts had been on another track. But the two questions weren’t unrelated.

  ‘I’m sorry . . . ?’ Jessup didn’t understand.

  ‘How did they manage to overpower him and get him to that warehouse? The docks weren’t exactly deserted. There were river police stationed there, and those merchant seamen who passed through the gates must have walked down the same road Wing would have taken to get to the freighter he was supposed to board. Any sort of rough stuff between him and these Triad thugs was bound to have been noticed by someone. At least, you would think so.’

  ‘So what’s your conclusion?’

  ‘That it’s far more likely he went there of his own accord.’

  ‘To an empty unused warehouse . . . ?’ Jessup frowned. ‘But why should he have done that?’

  ‘I can only make a guess, Richard.’ Madden glanced at him. ‘But it could be because he had an appointment there.’

  ‘With Lin, do you mean?’

  Madden shrugged.

  ‘He’s the most likely person to have set something up. You said so yourself. He might have told Stanley that either he or someone he’d send in his place would be there to ensure that the arrangement with the ship’s captain went smoothly. But whatever Wing was told, whatever was arranged, it was almost certainly a blind.’

  ‘A blind . . . ?’

  ‘It’s only an opinion, mind.’ Madden searched the other’s face. ‘But I doubt that any passage on a freighter was ever fixed for Stanley Wing, no matter what he’d been led to believe. I think the aim was simply to get him to the docks, and then into that warehouse . . .’

  ‘Where the Triads would be waiting for him?’

  Jessup had understood.

  ‘What you’re saying is that he walked into a trap.’

  • • •

  ‘I’m worried about him, sir, and that’s the truth. I haven’t seen Sir Richard look this tired since the war.’

  Ted Lennox’s homely features were a picture of concern as he nursed the big Bentley around Hyde Park Corner.

  ‘Mind you, then he had reason: we were up against it more than once, and he was always worried about us, the men. Is it because of Mr Garner dying that way? Is that what’s upset him?’

  ‘Mostly, I think.’r />
  Madden was sitting beside the chauffeur in the front of the car. When they dropped Jessup at the club, Lennox had opened the back door for Madden to climb in, but his passenger had declined the offer.

  ‘I’d rather sit up with you, Ted.’

  ‘Sir Richard does the same whenever we go down the country. He likes to chat.’

  It was Jessup who had insisted that his guest accept the offer of a lift up to St John’s Wood instead of getting the night porter to ring for a taxi, as Madden had suggested.

  ‘The very least I can do is see that you get home safely after what I’ve put you through tonight.’

  Lennox, too, had been quick to add his support to the plan. All three of them had got out of the car and were standing on the pavement.

  ‘I’ll be driving up that way in any case, sir,’ he had assured Madden with a smile. ‘I’ve got a room in Bayswater for when Sir Richard spends the night in London, and there’ll be no traffic this time of night.’

  The doors of the club had been locked and Jessup had rung the bell for the night porter. While they waited he had asked Madden for a favour.

  ‘If the police need to talk to me, could you tell them I’ll be down in Hampshire? Sarah is due back on Thursday. I’ll have to come up to London for the inquest, Rex’s, that is, but otherwise I’ll stay in the country.’

  When he heard the porter unlocking the door he had held out his hand.

  ‘Thank you for being there, John. It meant a lot to me. Pray God I never witness another sight like that.’

  Madden could see he was exhausted.

  ‘Try to get some sleep, Richard,’ he said.

  Standing a little way off, Lennox had eyed his employer with concern.

  ‘He’ll feel better when his missus gets back,’ he confided to Madden now as they drove up Park Lane. ‘Don’t you think so, sir?’

  ‘I’m sure he will, Ted.’ Madden had noticed the chauffeur’s worried look. He cast around in his mind for a subject that might distract him. ‘I understand you and Sir Richard met during the war?’ he said.