It was an unpalatable truth and it made Chatfield wince. He hated the favouritism shown towards Marmion by the commissioner and resented the faith put in the inspector’s judgement. It was demeaning to him.
‘Sending the sergeant to Knockaloe is madness,’ he said, astringently.
‘I disagree, Superintendent.’
‘Croft is already in a place of safety.’
‘Yes,’ said Marmion, ‘but what is he doing there? That’s one of the questions Sergeant Keedy will be asking. He’ll also want to find out how David Ackley managed to escape and who his associates were on the island. I’m counting on the sergeant to come back with a fund of information.’
‘Don’t bank on it.’
Chatfield lapsed into silence and simply stared at him. It was minutes before Marmion realised that the interview was over. He murmured a farewell and left the room. Though he’d escaped a stern reprimand, he knew that Chatfield would get his revenge in due course. He was still wondering in what form it would come when he saw two figures at the far end of the corridor. A uniformed constable was escorting Reuben Ackley. The old man rushed towards Marmion.
‘I had to come, Inspector,’ he said. ‘I did something very stupid.’
Ellen read the newspaper with dismay. War reports were on almost every page. The list of British casualties was lengthening dramatically. Paul Marmion was only one tiny statistic in the conflict but he was the most important to her. He was not simply a victim of war. He was a symbol of the malign effects it could have on the mind. As she looked back over the time he’d spent in uniform, she saw the slow erosion of his personality and the loss of the values she and her husband had instilled in him. His injuries had accelerated the changes. Clinging on to the hope that he would get better, she had to admit that he’d got steadily worse. Her meeting with Mavis Tandy had shown her the extent of his deterioration. His behaviour had been unforgivable.
Mavis had been quite unlike any of the girlfriends Paul had known in the past. They’d always been short, attractive, lively girls who’d aroused his protective instinct. Mavis, by contrast was a tall, stringy, excessively plain young woman with none of the vitality that Paul found so appealing. Still mourning the loss of Colin Fryatt, she’d given Paul no reason to think that there could be any romance between them though that, as it turned out, was not what he was after. The simple fact that he was alone with her was enough for him. Even in a church, he couldn’t resist the urge to force himself upon her. Tossing the newspaper aside, Ellen gave a shudder.
Who would be his next victim?
When he realised why Ackley had come to see him, Marmion marched him straight to the superintendent’s office and knocked on the door. He got a frosty reception as he went in but Chatfield’s hostility weakened when he was introduced to the visitor.
‘I was so naïve,’ confessed Ackley. ‘I’m supposed to be an expert on criminal law yet I can’t recognise a criminal when I’m staring him in the face.’
‘What happened?’ asked Chatfield.
‘I was fooled.’
Ackley went on to describe the visit to his house that morning of the fake detective constable. Having been grateful to him at first, his suspicion had been aroused by the way the man reacted to the information that Ben Croft was in an internment camp on the Isle of Man.
‘He grinned broadly as if I’d just given him a present,’ said Ackley, ‘and he disappeared at once. On my way to the college, I began to wonder if he really was who he claimed to be so I made a detour and cycled to the police station.’
‘They have no record of a Detective Constable Rogers,’ guessed Marmion.
‘None at all, Inspector.’
‘So who the devil was he?’ asked Chatfield.
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘I do,’ said Marmion, ‘the name gives him away. It was Wally Hubbard. He’s making a habit of impersonating policemen and, since his closest friend is Maisie Rogers, he changed her from a barmaid into a detective.’
‘I had a horrible feeling he might be that escaped prisoner,’ said Ackley, ‘and the police in Oxford agreed with me. Hubbard has sworn to kill Mr Croft and I was duped into telling him where he could be found.’
‘Don’t take it to heart, sir.’
‘I might unwittingly have signed Croft’s death warrant.’
‘That’s overstating the situation, sir,’ said Marmion. ‘As it happens, someone has just been dispatched to the Isle of Man to warn Croft that it would be dangerous for him to return to the mainland until Hubbard is caught. Not that he needs to be told, I’m sure,’ he added. ‘They have newspapers there. Croft will have been aware of Hubbard’s escape. What it does mean, however,’ he went on with a glance at Chatfield, ‘is that Sergeant Keedy’s visit to Knockaloe is more important than we imagined. In the event of an attack from Hubbard, he’ll act as Croft’s bodyguard.’
‘The commissioner’s decision was a wise one, after all,’ said Chatfield, grudgingly. ‘It looks as if the sergeant is in the right place.’
‘It’s good of you to acknowledge that, sir.’ Marmion turned to their visitor. ‘There was no need to come all the way to Scotland Yard, sir. You could have spoken to me on the telephone.’
‘I had another reason to see you,’ said Ackley.
‘What was it?’
‘I’ve been thinking about our son, because that’s exactly what he is. It’s no use pretending otherwise. In spite of all the pain and humiliation he caused us, David is still our own flesh and blood. Instead of retreating to my ivory tower in Oxford, I should be trying to help you solve his murder.’
‘How can you do that?’ asked Chatfield.
‘I can explain in greater detail why we had to ask him to leave. It wasn’t just his political stance, you see. It was the company he kept. We had this gang of ill-dressed, unkempt, sneering, disrespectful people dropping in and using our house for their meetings. One man was particularly objectionable – Peter Tillman.’
‘Who was he?’
‘Tillman was the leader of the group. He was Russian by birth but anglicised his name. My wife found him rather creepy. Oh, he was an educated man, there was no disputing that. He was a brilliant speaker. I blame him for casting some sort of spell over our son. David couldn’t do enough for him.’
He went on to describe the activities of what had been a small but very active sect in the Communist Party. Ackley gave other names but it was Tillman who’d clearly dominated the group.
‘What happened to this man?’ asked Marmion.
‘I don’t know, Inspector.’
‘Have you heard from him since your son left?’
‘We didn’t have a single word from either of them.’
‘I have a feeling that that suited you, sir.’
Ackley lowered his head. ‘To my eternal shame, it did.’
Marmion felt an upsurge of sympathy and fellow feeling. He knew how agonising it was to lose a son and have no idea where he was or what he was doing.
‘We should at least have kept in touch with David,’ said the father. ‘I know it’s too late to realise that. This whole business has been so humbling for us.’
‘Thank you for coming, sir,’ said Chatfield. ‘What you’ve told us is very helpful. Hubbard may go to Knockaloe but we’ll be one step ahead of him because we can warn Sergeant Keedy to look out for him. But for you, both the sergeant and Croft would have been in danger.’
‘I’d hate there to be another murder.’
‘We’ll do our best to prevent it.’
‘But the other information you’ve given us is also valuable,’ said Marmion. ‘You’ve filled in a lot of blanks about his political beliefs and activities. This man, Peter Tillman, will be worth tracking down. We’ve been wondering why your son ended up on the streets in the first place. When we discovered that he’d been locked up on the Isle of Man, we realised that he was hiding from the people who sent him there.’
‘Your son’s arrest raises an interesting
question, sir,’ said Chatfield. ‘He was only the editor of a subversive magazine. Why wasn’t the leader of the group arrested as well?’
‘I can add a rider to that, sir,’ volunteered Marmion.
‘Go on.’
‘If he needed a place to hide when he got back here, why didn’t David Ackley go to the man you’ve just mentioned? Since they were such close friends, Tillman would surely have taken him in. He was the obvious person to offer a refuge.’
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Iris Goodliffe longed to discuss the brief appearance of Joe Keedy but knew that she had to wait. Alice would only take her into her confidence when she was ready. Evidently, she was upset about something. Iris could see that. On the occasions when Keedy had intercepted them in the past, her friend was usually happy and buoyant afterwards. This time she was troubled. They were on their second walk around their beat when Alice eventually turned to her.
‘I had some bad news from Joe.’
‘What’s happened?’
‘He’s being sent to the Isle of Man.’
‘Why?’
‘He’s heard that the man they’ve been after – Ben Croft – is in Knockaloe. That’s the internment camp.’
‘It sounds like good news to me, Alice. Their search is over at last. They must be pleased. What’s the problem?’
‘It’s getting there and back safely, Iris. That’s what worries me. Anyone who sails in the Irish Sea is in danger. Submarines have been sighted.’
‘But there have been no reports of ferries being destroyed.’
‘Joe could be in jeopardy.’
‘He faces danger almost every day,’ Iris reminded her. ‘Look at the fight he had when he arrested that man, Hubbard. You told me how many bruises he had. And there have been lots of times when he’s risked his life to tackle some villain.’
‘That’s different. A submarine is an unseen enemy.’
Iris laughed. ‘It’s usually unseen because it’s not actually there.’
‘This is no joke. You’ve seen the warnings.’
‘I think they’re just German propaganda. They keep telling us they’ll cut us off entirely so that they can spread fear but they can’t have that many subs. And the navy does manage to destroy some of them.’
‘That’s true,’ said Alice, cheering slightly.
‘You should be proud that Joe’s been given a dangerous assignment.’
‘I am, Iris.’
‘Would you be just as worried if they’d sent your father instead?’
‘Yes, I would.’
‘What would your mother say?’
‘She’d be just as concerned as me. Mummy was on tenterhooks when Daddy went off to France to arrest two British soldiers. So was I – Joe was with him at the time. I feared for both of them.’
‘How many subs attacked them?’
‘There were none at all.’
‘And did they have to go close to the battlefield?’
‘They did, as a matter of fact.’
‘Yet the pair of them came back without a scratch, I daresay. That’s because they’re good at what they do, Alice. Have some trust in Joe. He’s more or less invincible.’
‘Not if his ferry is hit by a torpedo.’
‘Oh, well,’ said Iris, giving up. ‘If you’re determined to think the worst, I’ll let you wallow in misery for the rest of the day. You can enjoy being afraid that Joe’s ferry will be sunk, that your father will be killed in a car accident and that your brother will end up committing suicide. While you’re at it, you might as well dream up some gruesome death for your mother as well. You’ve lost the whole family then.’
‘Stop it!’ said Alice, laughing.
‘Then you stop being so gloomy.’
‘I will, I promise.’
‘Try telling yourself that Joe Keedy loves you, misses you and can’t wait to see you again. He’s not going off to a watery grave. He’s simply on his way to a very pleasant voyage.’
As the train steamed north, Keedy whiled away the time by reading a newspaper. It was filled with more grim tidings about the war. He looked out at the fields scudding past then reflected on his assignment. It would be an adventure to visit the Isle of Man and to see what a civilian internment camp was. He was very much looking forward to it. Convinced that Ben Croft was there, he was keen to discover why someone whose life was governed by his passion for women would go to a camp exclusively reserved for men. It never occurred to him that he was not the only person going there in search of Croft. Four carriages behind him, Wally Hubbard was also having high expectations of his trip.
When the telephone rang, Ellen was upstairs in her son’s room. Hoping to hear good news at last, she raced along the landing and scurried down the steps. By the time she snatched up the receiver, her heart was pumping audibly.
‘Yes?’ she said.
‘Hello, Ellen, it’s Lily.’
Ellen sagged. ‘Oh … hello.’
‘We’ve been wondering if anything has happened.’
‘There’s been no word from Paul, if that’s what you mean, and no reported sightings of him. It’s terrible. I’m torturing myself with guilt, Lily. I’ve just been standing in Paul’s room, wondering what I did wrong.’
‘This is not your fault,’ said Lily, firmly. ‘It was Paul’s decision. You didn’t drive him away. He went because he decided that it was the only thing to do.’
‘But we’re his family.’
‘Perhaps he felt the need for a bit of freedom.’
‘Then why didn’t he tell us? If he was so eager to go, we could have helped him with money and so on. He wasn’t being held here against his will. I kept telling him to get out more and see friends. It wasn’t natural for him to be cooped up in his room all day.’
‘Raymond’s spread the word around all our other hostels.’
‘That’s very kind of him but I’m afraid it’s unlikely that Paul would ever turn to the Salvation Army. For some reason, he’s taken against it.’
‘If he starts to struggle, he may change his mind. We’ve got a good record of finding missing persons.’
‘He’s not missing, Lily, he’s running away. It’s deliberate. I think he’ll endure any kind of hardship to keep clear of us. Oh,’ said Ellen, ‘it’s so annoying. At a time when I most need Harvey here, he’s working around the clock.’
‘Raymond wanted me to ask if there’s been any development in the case.’
‘Harvey rang to tell me that they believe they know where Ben Croft is. He’s on the Isle of Man, apparently.’
‘What’s he doing there?’
‘He’s being held at Knockaloe, the internment camp.’
‘Why?’
‘They don’t really know. Joe Keedy has been sent to find out.’
‘Wait a moment,’ said Lily, remembering the papers found on the murder victim, ‘that could explain a lot. David Ackley must have been there at some point as well. It’s the only way he could have met Croft.’
‘That’s what Harvey thinks.’
‘It solves one problem, I suppose, but there are still plenty of others. Raymond is obsessed by one of them.’
‘Is he?’
‘Yes, Ellen. After all, he was there when we picked up Ackley off the street. We brought him back here and did our best to look after him. Nobody else had the slightest inkling of where he was.’
‘That’s right.’
‘So how did the killer know where to find him?’
Marmion’s second meeting with Donald Breen was very different to the first one. Instead of being summoned by the latter, he demanded to speak to him. The Special Branch officer listened to what he had to say but made no comment.
‘Well?’ said Marmion at length.
‘I’m not quite sure why you came here, Inspector,’ said Breen, drily.
‘I came to tell you what David Ackley’s father told us.’
‘It’s duly noted.’
‘Is that all you have to say?�
��
‘What are you expecting me to say?’
‘You might start with an apology for failing to give us information that would have given us a greater understanding of Ackley. After all, we are on the same side. We regularly pass on things to Special Branch but we get only limited help in response. You seem to have a code of secrecy that’s an end in itself.’
‘We guard all the data we gather,’ said Breen. ‘It’s a vital precaution.’
‘I agree.’
‘So you’re wasting your time by charging in here and making demands.’
‘In that case,’ said Marmion, ‘we’ll have this conversation in the presence of Sir Edward. It was the commissioner who told me to come here. In short, I have his authority. Do you understand what that means?’
Breen was unruffled. ‘What is it that you wish to know exactly?’
‘The main question is this: when you told us about David Ackley’s political activities, why didn’t you mention Peter Tillman?’
‘There was no point.’
‘But he was the leader of the group.’
‘He was for a time, I grant you.’
‘According to his father, he exerted a lot of influence over Ackley.’
‘It’s true.’
‘By rights, therefore, he should be locked up in Knockaloe as well.’
‘We think otherwise, Inspector.’
‘Why?’
‘Tillman is no longer a threat. Reuben Ackley’s information was out of date. He hadn’t seen his son for some time so he didn’t realise that he’d replaced Peter Tillman as the key figure. To disable their activities, we had to arrest David Ackley. There was a good reason why Tillman lost interest in the group.’
‘What was it?’
‘He got married. When you have the responsibility of a wife, you tend to think differently. Even firebrands like Tillman are inclined to calm down and weigh the consequences of their actions.’
‘Tell me about him.’
‘If you wish,’ said Breen, looking him in the eye. ‘Peter Tillman was born and brought up in Russia. His parents moved here at the start of the century and set up as furriers. Judging by the fact that they have premises in Regent Street, they must be successful. Peter worked in the family business until there were stirrings of unrest back in Russia. We have a record of him going to Moscow in 1910 and again in 1913. On the second occasion, he took David Ackley with him.’
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