by Mark Ellis
“And he put this in his letter to you?”
“He did, Mr Merlin.”
“What was your reaction?”
“I was stunned and frightened. At the time, I was not only preoccupied with these concerns but also had my girlfriend problems.”
“Ah, yes. Bridget Healy. You do not deny the relationship?”
“What point is there now in doing that?”
“What about the love you profess for your wife?”
“In France we do things differently, you know. I love my wife dearly but she has never had problems with the occasional dalliance on my part, particularly when I have been abroad. Bridget was a lovely girl. My wife would have approved. We had some fun. I set her up nicely and showed her the finer things in life, such as they are in London. Then she became pregnant. There was never any question of my letting her keep the baby and taking responsibility for it. After initial resistance, she accepted this was the wisest solution.”
“Abortion.”
“Yes, of course.” Aubertin’s voice was weakening as he approached the end of his story.
Swanton added more tobacco to his pipe. “Come on, Colonel. Speak up. Not much more ground to cover.”
Aubertin cleared his throat. “Inevitably, in the course of my duties, I get to know some of the junior officers. I got to know Dumont socially. Nothing wrong with it, I thought, since he had no idea of my situation. I was probably unwise, however, to get involved in the odd drinking session with him and some other officers. I believe I was with him when I first met Bridget at the Ritz. Anyway, he knew about me and Bridget.
“One night, after several drinks, I confided in him about the pregnancy. He was one of the officers whom de Metz had got to know and, a day or two later, he told me Armand was now in the abortion business. Dumont had heard and believed Armand’s stories about being a hot-shot surgeon and felt he was bound to do a competent job. When he suggested Armand, I thought there was an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. I would retain de Metz anonymously as abortionist for a very generous fee. He would perform the operation successfully and, with my money in his pockets, there would be less pressure on him to blackmail me. It all seemed so clever at the time but now…” Aubertin put his head in his hands. “That poor, poor girl.” He started to sob.
Swanton was not sympathetic. “Come on, Colonel. We’ll not have any of that. Get on with it and give us the last act.”
Aubertin pulled himself together. “So, Dumont agreed to go to the hotel on my behalf to keep an eye on proceedings. He told me afterwards that Armand had been drunk but had insisted on going ahead. When I learned what happened I was distraught and furious in equal measure. I drank a bottle of whisky, went to bed and in the morning I knew what had to be done. Armand deserved punishment for his drunken butchering of Bridget while, over and above that, he posed a serious threat to what I was doing for Vichy and thus my wife. He had to die.”
“Just to get the chronology right, Colonel, the abortion operation and Bridget’s death took place on Thursday 5 June. Dumont told you what happened in the evening of the same day and you decided on your course of action on Friday 6 June. Have I got that right?”
“I suppose so, Mr Merlin. Dates are beginning to seem rather vague now.”
“So what next?”
“I already had Armand’s Notting Hill address from Dumont. The following day – that would have been the Saturday, I guess – early in the morning, I went there and shot him.”
“So why did you use Dumont’s gun?”
“I didn’t.”
Swanton set down his pipe. “I can help you there, Frank. You told me Dumont’s gun was a Modèle 1935A. After we picked up Aubertin, we turned over his office and in his desk there was a gun. A Modèle 1935A.”
Aubertin shook his head slowly. “A strange coincidence. They are not standard issue and not very common. I didn’t know Dumont had one. I have another more modern army issue gun but prefer the Modèle. It has seen me through some difficult situations. In this case, however, it’s discovery meant…”
“That the game was up, eh, Colonel? When I told you that the police had a shell casing from the flat, you knew there would be a match.”
There was a long silence that Merlin eventually broke. “But what about this internal investigation you were running, Colonel? What was going on there?”
Aubertin grimaced, closed his eyes and arched his back. He took a few deep breaths. “Sorry. A spasm – I have sciatica.” He half-smiled. “I was hoping the attentions of Mr Swanton’s men might have bent my spine back into shape.”
Swanton growled something unintelligible.
“As to your question, Mr Merlin, after concerns expressed by the British, a French internal inquiry was launched by a Colonel Fillon, who, after some initial work, abandoned it to me when he went abroad with the general. Three officers, the most recent arrivals from north Africa, had been identified by Fillon as potential suspects. One of the suspects was Dumont. Obviously I had to protect him. I was given the impression that the general didn’t take the investigation seriously and initially felt I could just go through the motions. Thus I delegated the job to Angers, who I knew was too lazy to be effective.
“Unknown to me, he in turn had delegated the task to Captain Rougemont, who is a clever young man. Rougemont then recruited Devlin, who is a competent operative. When I found out about this, I made a mistake and allowed the arrangements to stand. Despite being under renewed pressure from the British to step up the investigation, I still felt I could control things satisfactorily through Angers.
“So Dumont was one suspect and the others were Lieutenants Beaulieu and Meyer. I knew little of Meyer, save that he was a Jew, but I knew that Beaulieu was a vain and arrogant young man whose father had once vetoed a promotion I was after. If there were to be a scapegoat, it was him. Devlin had been following the three men around for a few days and I had, of course, got a warning to Dumont about this but I decided that all efforts should be concentrated on Beaulieu. If Devlin could only find out something compromising about Beaulieu I might be able to trump something up. I advised Angers to tell Devlin to focus only on Beaulieu. Devlin disobeyed, Dumont made a mistake and Devlin’s suspicions fell on him. When I made Dumont aware of this, he was quick to act and arrange for Devlin to be dealt with.”
Swanton leaned over to tap his pipe against the fireplace. “Dumont has confirmed, Frank, that it was Beecham’s thugs who attacked Devlin.”
“I see.”
Swanton looked long and hard at Aubertin before nodding to Peters. “I think that’s enough for now, Colonel. You and I will have another little chat later. Off you go, now.”
Peters pulled the colonel roughly to his feet. On his way out, Aubertin turned to look beseechingly at Merlin. “Swanton doesn’t believe me, I know, but please, Mr Merlin, I only did it for my wife, I swear…” The thick door closed behind him and any further words were lost as the men’s footsteps receded down the corridor.
Merlin leaned back in his chair. “Don’t you believe him, Harold? About his wife?”
“Does it really matter, Frank? I pretty much believe everything else apart from his claim there were no other accomplices in Dorset Square and Carlton Gardens. I’ll be looking further into that. And then there’s the go-between Aubertin inadvertently mentioned. We’ll get that name out of him. The excuse about his wife makes him look better but isn’t it just as likely that he was always in league with those old fascist Croix de Feu friends of his in Vichy? Whatever his true motivation, the fact remains that his and Dumont’s treachery led to the deaths of several good men and women. For that he must pay the penalty.”
Suddenly Merlin felt very tired. “It is a little frustrating that I’m neither going to be able to bring Aubertin to trial for de Metz’s murder nor Dumont for the attack on Devlin.”
“Sorry, Frank. There’ll be no due process of law for these two. We’ll milk them for everything we can get. Find any others involved
. Once we’ve done that it’ll be…” Swanton ran a finger slowly across his throat.
“What about de Gaulle and his lot?”
“We may allow the French an interview after we’ve finished with them but Aubertin and Dumont will remain in my custody.” Swanton stood up and stretched his arms. His face suddenly brightened. “I don’t know about you, Frank, but I’m absolutely parched. Peckish too. How about I organise some beer and sandwiches? They have some very nice stuff in the ducal pantry.”
“I can think of nothing better, Harold.”
CHAPTER 17
Tuesday 24 June
London
“Ah, Frank. There you are. Come in, sit down. I can’t tell you how glad I am to be back in the office. If I had had to drink another one of my wife’s special medicinal hot drinks, I’d have been ready to top myself.”
Merlin made his way to the AC’s desk. “Are you all right now, sir?”
“Fit as a fiddle. It was that damned trip to Bristol! When Claire deserted me for you! On the Thursday morning, before I headed back to London, I went for a walk in a park near the hotel and was caught in a torrential downpour. Just came out of the blue. I didn’t have a coat on, as the weather has been so lovely, and had no change of clothes so I travelled back to London sodden. Result was that within a few hours I felt rotten, my temperature was through the roof and the bronchitis I’m prone to had made an appearance. I was pretty much poleaxed over the weekend. Anyway, the good Dr Lang and the tender ministrations of my dear wife have brought me back to the land of the living.
“But that’s enough about me. What news, Frank? I managed to read the report you sent me on Sunday. Well done! Seems everything is pretty much wrapped up, although it’s disappointing that we can’t follow through.”
Bridges had given Merlin a particularly strong brew of tea on his arrival at the Yard earlier in the morning, and Merlin’s taste buds had still not recovered. “Do you mind if I help myself to a glass of water, sir?”
“Not at all, Frank. Pour me one while you’re at it.”
Merlin drank most of his glass in one gulp before he sat down. “Yes, obviously Aubertin and Dumont are out of our hands now. Swanton is sweating them to identify any accomplices. Apparently, the fellow with the medical recruitment agency in Putney, Renard was the name I think, may have acted as some sort of go-between. Harold has also been questioning Rougemont but is pretty sure he’s done nothing wrong.”
“What happened to Commandant Angers?”
“In the clear. He was released yesterday. Swanton decided he had nothing to do with the espionage but apparently he departed a much-chastened man.”
The AC picked up a pencil and proceeded to tap his teeth with it, an annoying occasional habit of his. “And what about the case of your poor friend?”
“As I wrote in my report, Constable Robinson and Detective Goldberg did a superb job of pinning down Carson as Eddie’s murderer. His partner, Miller, had betrayed him but we eventually got his confession yesterday. Everything was as we suspected.
“Carson was sent by Beecham to get Arbuthnot’s message from Powell in the belief that it would somehow lead to the bearer shares. As Vorster told us, he gained access by claiming he had a package to deliver to Powell, who got out of the bath to let him in. Eddie wouldn’t hand over the message so Carson got rough with him and gave him a dunking or 10 in the water. Overdid it. He’s trying to say it was an accident, of course, but that’s not going to get him anywhere. Poor Eddie. Survived the hell of Crete to die a cheap and sordid death back home.”
“A brave and honourable man, Frank.”
“Yes, sir. Miller has obviously admitted to keeping an eye out for Carson outside the flats. Cooperative as he’s been, I’m going to see if I can nail him as an accomplice to murder. If I fail we also have the attack on Devlin to prosecute, although it’s going to be difficult without Dumont’s or Aubertin’s direct evidence.”
“How is Devlin?”
“Recovering slowly but he’s going to be all right.”
The AC finally stopped using his teeth as a xylophone. “Any more on Beecham?”
“Originally Percy Bishop, a small-time crook from Bethnal Green. Got involved with Oswald Mosley as a fascist organiser and thug. He started a protection racket then became a bookie. Through Mosley he began to move in higher circles. Eventually he reinvented himself as Peregrine Beecham, found some deep-pocketed backers and started his gambling operation in Piccadilly. We don’t know how he got hooked up with Vichy. Presumably something to do with his Mosleyite past. Swanton is investigating.”
“I don’t understand why we’ve never gone after this chap before? The set-up in Arlington Street is or was clearly illegal. Why haven’t the vice squad done anything about it?”
“A very good question, sir. Do I need to answer it for you?”
Gatehouse bit his lip and shook his head. “I have no authority over vice, Frank, as you know. I can only try to broach this with the commissioner.”
Merlin sighed. “We both know there are some suspect officers in that group.”
The AC echoed Merlin’s sigh. “I know the commissioner won’t be keen on doing anything worthwhile. He’ll say: ‘We can’t afford to rock the boat at time of war, Gatehouse.’”
The two men sat in a long, pensive silence, which the AC eventually broke. “What about the Arbuthnots?”
“The City of London police are continuing their investigations and the Bank of England has sent some people in to help and work alongside the management. Fleming, the man who succeeded Simon Arbuthnot as head of the bank, resigned over the weekend and has apparently left the country. Word is he’s on his way to South America.”
“To take charge of the business there?”
“No doubt. To try at least. He won’t find it easy, apparently. The man on the spot, Pulos, is quite formidable, according to Philip Arbuthnot. And there are other difficulties. The Meyer family is continuing with its litigation. Felix Meyer, the son who was innocently entangled in Devlin’s investigation as I mentioned in my report, told me the full story of the fraud perpetrated on his father, which led to the South American business falling into Arbuthnot’s hands. He asked if there was anything I could do about it, but I told him it all happened too long ago and I had more pressing matters to deal with.”
“What of the younger Arbuthnot?”
“Doing the decent thing, it seems. He’s taken over as chairman of the bank and is cooperating fully with the police investigators and the officials from the Bank of England. He says he’s not going to take advantage of one of the legal sleights of hand revealed in his father’s letter.”
“What was that?”
“That there was never a valid declaration of trust conferring ownership of the South American business in favour of the bank. Philip and his aunt could, therefore, have asserted direct ownership of those assets. A new declaration of trust is being made in the bank’s favour. The bank will still have a job to get control of the assets but still… I didn’t particularly take to Tomlinson, the solicitor, but he seems to have been a good influence on the young man. And on the positive side for Philip, at least he hasn’t got Beecham breathing down his neck for his father’s gambling debts.”
“Well, good for Philip. I’m glad he appears to be behaving so honourably. Poor fellow. Bloody awful mess to find yourself in so young. The South African is in the clear?”
“He is. His story about Eddie’s murder proved true and he led us to the culprit. He’s a silly young man but he’s done nothing criminal.”
“That’s a relief. His father has powerful friends here and I was anticipating interference if things had gone the other way.” The AC sipped some water. “Well, let me know when you hear more from Swanton.”
“I shall, sir.”
“And what do you think of the developments in Russia?”
“I don’t really know what to think, sir.”
“Whatever it is, it’s a major new turn in the war
.” The AC fiddled with his collar stud. “I’m sorry I missed my chance to say farewell to Detective Goldberg.”
“Yes, sir. I must say I found him a very decent and useful fellow to have around. I’m prepared to admit that I wasn’t keen on the idea at the beginning but he proved a very helpful member of the team.”
The AC flashed a mouthful of mottled teeth at Merlin. “I’m glad that my ideas gain your approval once in a while, Detective Chief Inspector.”
Merlin smiled back. “Any news of my other officers, sir? Obviously with Goldberg gone I am a little short-handed again.”
“All in hand. All in hand, Frank. Speaking of your officers, I understand that Constable Robinson handled herself well at Waterloo Station the other day?”
“She was very brave, sir. You must know that I didn’t encourage her to…”
“Don’t worry, Frank. Something like this was bound to happen at some point. She’s a headstrong woman like her mother, not to mention her aunt. I’m just glad you were at hand. Now, anything else? If not, I don’t want to detain you further from your work.”
Merlin shifted awkwardly in his chair. “There is one other thing, sir.”
“Yes, Frank. What is it?”
“Something personal I feel you should be made aware of.”
The AC’s face clouded over. “Not that stuff about wanting to join up again? I thought I made it clear last time that you are far too essential to the force to…”
“No, sir. Not that. I just wanted you to know that Sonia is… is… pregnant.”