by Dawn Harris
‘Bugger Burns?’ I spluttered.
He laughed. ‘My sentiments exactly.’
‘What idiot put him in charge?’
‘Well, you see cariad, it was like this. After the robbery the King insisted on calling in Scotland Yard, and Burns is a very popular fellow now he’s solved Peter Crawley’s murder. Over the moon he was when he heard you and Al had been captured. He thinks the case will be sewn up this afternoon, and he might still get in a round of golf, if he’s lucky.’
‘Golf?’ I exploded
‘I prefer rugby myself.’ He was so full of himself, I asked if he’d definitely recovered all the jewellery. ‘I think so. The suitcase is stuffed full of magnificent jewels.’
A sudden suspicion made me say, ‘I bet you haven’t told Burns, have you? Or that the Greenes did the robbery?’
‘No, I haven’t,’ he agreed with a chuckle. ‘It’s going to come as a nasty shock. Especially when all the top photographers and journalists will be here, expecting a real sensation. I bet he’s picturing the headlines as we speak. What he expects to see is---’ And he put his hands together, then spread them wide, as if opening a newspaper. ‘“Burns of the Yard arrests War Hero’s widow.” Well, we can’t let that happen, can we. One innocent person awaiting trial is more than enough. That’s why I didn’t explain the situation when I spoke to him on the telephone. I feel that sort of thing is best done face to face.’ And he smiled in smug anticipation.
‘You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?’
‘Whatever gave you that idea,’ he grinned, and indicating the chair on my side of the desk, suggested I sat down. 'The man is an arrogant liar.’
‘Liar?’ I queried, surprised.
'Oh, yes. When we were both detective chief inspectors, I passed on some information that solved the murder he was working on, as I knew it would. This was just before my wife and I went to France last year, and when I got back I found he’d taken all the credit for solving his case, and as a result had been made up to superintendent.’ He rubbed his hands together in gleeful expectation, ‘That is not going to happen this time. You see, Burns means to become a chief superintendent and he doesn’t care how he does it. What’s more he’s a lousy detective. Look at how he reacted when the maid at Kelfield Hall told him that her employer’s jewellery had been stolen, and she’d seen you and Al race off on a tandem. He didn’t stop to think. Not for an instant. The jewellery had gone, and so had you two, therefore you must be guilty. And he set up a manhunt. It wouldn’t have occurred to him that you were chasing the crooks.’
‘Well, I agree the man’s an idiot, but he must get things right sometimes, or he’d still be a constable, surely.’
‘Of course he does. In most cases, the people seen running away are guilty. If it’s all straight forward he does a splendid job. His problem is that he can’t tell the difference between a case that is straight forward, and one that looks as if it is -- but isn’t. Take Mr. Taverner, for instance; he was heard to threaten Peter Crawley, and was foolish enough to use Charlie Jones to collect bad debts. Well, that was good enough for Burns.’
‘But not for you?’
‘Well, at first, I did think Mr. Taverner could be responsible, but it’s been quite obvious to me for some time now that he’s innocent.’ He looked as if he was about to say something else, then changed his mind and urged, ‘Now tell me about Ginger. Has he confessed yet?’
‘He admits the robbery.’
‘Not murder?’ he asked, watching my face intently.
‘No. I don’t think he knows anything about that. What did his father say?’
‘He swore he was innocent too.’
‘Where is he now?’
‘In Ryde. He won’t be going anywhere.’
‘Ryde?’ I echoed.
But as I opened my mouth to ask why he’d taken Edward Greene over to the other side of the island when this police station was just up the road, he intervened, ‘I’ll explain later. I must get Ginger to sign a statement before Burns arrives. It means I can’t have you and Al released yet, I’m afraid. But you won’t be locked up for much longer.’
Remembering I now had proof that the Greenes weren’t blackmailers or murderers, I urged, ‘Inspector, there’s something I must tell you............’
‘Tell me later. Burns is on the ferry now and I don’t have much time.’ I was taken back to rejoin Al, and once Ginger had been handcuffed, he was led off to be questioned.
I told Al what I’d just learnt, it having become my habit to keep him up-to-date with everything. Basically because, if I didn’t, he might not recognise lies when he heard them, or danger when he saw it. In fact, he was better informed than the Inspector. And almost as if he knew what I was thinking, Al asked if I’d told the Inspector about Mrs. Carmichael.
‘Not yet.’ And I sighed. ‘If I tell him, she’ll be arrested, and if she’s charged with treason, it can mean the death penalty. If I don’t tell him, Mr. Taverner will almost certainly hang.’
He chewed at his lip, then said, 'My father was a good man, and he always advised me to do what I knew to be right.’
‘Yes, but even if the police believe her, she’ll still go to gaol. It’ll kill her, Al.’
He shook his head. ‘Mrs. Carmichael is a tough cookie. And I reckon her husband will stand by her.’
Arthur would be in trouble for discussing his work with Jean, and at the very least would have to resign. What a mess it all was. But Al had hit the nail on the head; Jean was the one in the wrong; Mr. Taverner was entirely innocent of the crime he’d been charged with. The trouble was, I was much fonder of Jean and Arthur than I was of Mr. Taverner. Al, clearly understanding my dilemma, suggested I discuss it with Mr. Alverstone. ‘He’d know what to do.’
‘I can’t,’ I said, tears stinging my eyes.
He hesitated briefly before saying, ‘Forgive me if I’m speaking too plain, Mrs. York, but all the chauffeurs know what happened on Friday. You can’t keep that kind of thing quiet. You don’t speak about Mr. York much, but from the way you talk when you do mention him, I guess he wasn’t a good husband. Mr. Alverstone isn’t like that and---.’
‘You can’t possibly know that.’
‘If I’m wrong, I’ll work for a year for nothing. Anyone can see he worships the very ground you walk on.’
Slightly embarrassed I protested, ‘Al ----really – that’s not.....’
‘Not for me to say. Gee, I know that. And I wouldn’t normally. But you can’t hide that kinda thing. Didn’t take you long to see how it was with Connie and me.’
‘True,’ I agreed with a smile.
‘I bet Mr. Alverstone had a good reason for going off with that broad.’
Frankly, I couldn’t see what that could be, other than the obvious reason, but before I could say anything, the constable brought Ginger back, and informed me Superintendent Burns had just arrived. I asked Ginger if he’d signed a statement and he glowered at me. ‘Didn’t get no choice, did I? What I want to know is, why is my father in Ryde? That copper wouldn’t tell me.’
‘I really don’t know. The Inspector didn’t tell me either.’
Despite Ginger’s confession, Burns insisted on interviewing us, clearly hoping to prove we were part of the same gang. Eventually, even he accepted we were innocent and reluctantly allowed us to be released. Inspector Nabber told us Captain Lucas-Brown was willing to ferry us back to Hamble, and then accompanied us out of the police station, where we were instantly besieged by the waiting press reporters and photographers.
Cameras clicked and reporters bombarded me with questions. ‘Mrs. York,’ demanded one man, notepad and pencil poised, ‘why did you chase after the villains on a tandem?’
A short man shoved him aside. ‘How did you know where they were going?’
A third shouted over their heads, ‘Why weren’t you on the boat trip round the Island?’
The Inspector held up his hands for quiet and explained in his genial way,
‘Those kind of questions must stay unanswered at present. Edward Greene and his son are now in custody, and we wish to question them in connection with other serious offences too. But, one thing is absolutely clear – if it hadn’t been for Mrs. York and her chauffeur, the villains would have escaped justice. When my colleague, Superintendent Burns, learnt the true facts of this case, he immediately praised their bravery.’
One journalist inquired politely, ‘Where is Superintendent Burns?’
‘Questioning one of the suspects.’
Determined to get some quotes for their readers, I was asked, ‘Mrs. York, how did you feel about being locked up in gaol?’
I smiled. ‘It wasn’t for long, and the police were only doing their duty. One thing I can tell you – the constable makes excellent cheese sandwiches.’
That made them all laugh. Al was asked how he liked Britain, and he responded at once, 'It's a swell country.’
‘What about the weather?’
'There’s more to a country than weather,’ he said with a grin.
‘Do you mean to stay?’
‘If I can.’ The Inspector soon decided that was enough and as the press dispersed, the constable came out of the station and told him Mr. Stokes was on the telephone.
‘Right,’ he said, and suggesting we wait for him inside, he went to take the call.
It was some ten minutes before he returned, and when he did all jollity had disappeared from his face. He led us into the room where Burns had questioned me. It was empty now, and he sat behind the desk, while Al and I took the two chairs. ‘Bad news, I’m afraid. Edward Greene died about twenty minutes ago.’
CHAPTER TWENTYFOUR
‘Greene is dead?’ I couldn’t believe what he was saying. ‘But how? What happened to him?’
‘He collapsed just as you and Al raced off after Ginger. I thought he was trying to pull a fast one, but the doctor we sent for assured me it was a heart attack. Bob and I went with him in the ambulance to the county hospital in Ryde. I left Bob with him and came back to make sure Ginger was safely locked up.’ For the first time I actually felt sorry for Ginger, and even the Inspector couldn’t hide his reluctance when he said, ‘Better tell the poor beggar, I suppose.’
He came back some fifteen minutes later looking much more cheerful. ‘Save your sympathy. It took him five seconds to use the bad news as an opportunity to put all the blame for the robbery on his father. He swore he’d tried to talk the old man out of it.’
‘In that case he deserves all he gets,’ I said in disgust. ‘What happens now?’
‘The funeral will take place here. It seems there are no other relatives.’
‘Will you allow Ginger to go?’
‘After what he’s just said about his father?’ he objected scornfully. ‘Still there is some good news.’ And he rubbed his hands together in gleeful satisfaction. ‘Burns is no longer the blue-eyed boy. Scotland Yard have put me in charge of the Kelfield Hall robbery.’
‘I am glad,’ I beamed. ‘But what about your collar bone?’
‘I’ll manage.’ And he went on, ‘Mind you, Burns remains in charge of Mr. Taverner’s case.’ Then he suddenly turned to Al and asked if he’d ever been to Yarmouth before.
‘No, sir. It looks a pretty place.’
‘Then go out and explore while you have the chance. I have a few things to sort out with Mrs York.’ He smiled at me, ‘If that’s all right with you?’
‘By all means.’ I was puzzled though. Why did Inspector Nabber want to see me alone? He knew perfectly well that I kept nothing about the case from Al.
When he’d gone, the Inspector said, ‘No point him hanging about here listening to us.’
‘Not when you wanted him out of the way.’
He had the grace to grin. ‘Actually, I do want to ask you a few questions.’
‘Fire away,’ I said, with more confidence than I felt.
‘Well, to start with, I’m afraid we were wrong about Ginger and his father, cariad. Both swore they knew nothing about the murders, and I don’t think they were lying.’
‘No, neither do I. According to Ginger they weren’t blackmailing anyone. He was being paid to collect and deliver those letters. At least that’s what he told me this morning when we were all locked up together.’
‘Did he, by golly. Just as well I only charged him with the robbery then.’
Before he could start asking questions I didn’t want to answer, I said, ‘But I still think the murders are connected to the letters, and I believe we could catch the real murderer, if you’ll let Ginger collect one last letter. He told me he’s expected in Hyde Park on Tuesday and---’
‘You mean he didn’t tell his contact he meant to leave the country?’ he joked, and went on in mocking fashion, ‘Young people today have no manners.’
I smiled absently and asked, ‘Can it be done? Now he’s under arrest, I mean?’
The Inspector pulled at the lobe of his left ear. ‘It would require a lot of coppers, but I think it could be arranged. With an offer of a reduced sentence if he co-operates, and a promise of a longer one if he tries to escape.’ He drummed his fingers lightly on the desk. ‘Mind you, if he did escape I’ll be back on the beat by Wednesday. I take it we’re to follow him. Presumably he’ll go to the Lyons Corner House at Marble Arch, as he did before.’
‘I imagine so. It’s probably best to let him carry out his usual routine, in case anyone else is watching what goes on.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘When I followed him last time, he seemed to choose a table at random. But, at the table immediately opposite him was another man sitting on his own.’
‘You didn’t mention him before.’
‘That’s because I didn’t realise – then - that he was involved. They didn’t speak or appear to know each other, and if he hadn’t been sitting directly opposite Ginger I wouldn’t have noticed him at all. But, this morning, Ginger told me he always gave the letters to this man.’
‘I see,’ he said, his eyes narrowing.
‘Actually, I had begun to suspect something of the sort.’
‘You don’t say,’ he retorted flippantly. He picked up a pencil and twisted it in his fingers. ‘Now what made you think that?’
Ignoring the suggestion of sarcasm in his voice, I said, ‘Actually it came about in the oddest way. Last Thursday, I was stuck in a traffic jam in the middle of London. Al was driving, and I was idly glancing at the people walking past, when I saw a man I’d met a few weeks ago. A particularly loathsome minor diplomat from the German Embassy.’ And I explained briefly how he’d ruined the tennis match I’d taken part in, by refusing to play with Sally Goldberg because she was Jewish. ‘He was walking with another man, who seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t, at the time, recall where I’d seen him before. Later, I remembered. He had been at the Corner House, sitting alone, but opposite Ginger.’
‘Go on,’ he urged, his eyes darkening.
‘Well, that’s when it struck me....... If Ginger passed on the letters to this man, then the Greenes probably weren’t blackmailers. And this morning Ginger told me the letters were for Sir Oswald Mosley...............’
‘Were they, by golly.’
‘But Mosley didn’t want Ginger to deliver the letters to him directly. This other man did that.’
The Inspector stood the pencil on its base and held it there by the point. ‘To protect his lady contact, no doubt.’
‘I imagine so.’ I hurried on, foolishly still hoping to keep Jean out of it. ‘Ginger doesn’t know what was in the letters. He was only interested in being paid for collecting them. He thinks Mosley and the woman were having an affair.’
‘And you don’t?’ I shook my head and he began doodling on the pad of paper in front of him. ‘Go on.’
‘What really worries me is seeing the man from the Corner House with that German diplomat. Who’s a particularly nasty piece of work. A dyed-in-the-wool Nazi.’
‘What’s
this Nazi’s name?’
‘Fritz Muller.’
‘And the other man?’
‘Ebenezer something, according to Ginger. He didn’t know his surname.’
He suddenly stopped doodling, looked up and asked softly, ‘Do you, cariad?’
It was so unexpected, I gasped. ‘Me?’ Why had he asked that? Then I realised --- he hadn’t been a detective for twenty odd years without recognising when people were keeping something from him. ‘No, I don’t know. I wish I did. I think he, or someone close to him, is behind the murders.’
‘Like this Nazi from the German Embassy?’
‘Possibly.’ He began pulling at his ear lobe again and I pointed out, ‘Persuading Ginger to do one more pick-up is our last chance to get to the truth. Can you keep Ginger’s name out of the newspapers until Wednesday? If they print it, Ebenezer won’t go near the Corner House, and we’ll never catch him. When does Ginger have to be in court?’
‘As soon as possible is the rule, which usually means forty-eight hours.’
‘Tuesday.’
‘Mmmm. Mind you, I need to question him first, and it wouldn’t be human to subject him to that immediately after his father’s death, would it? I’ll wait until tomorrow. The funeral’s not until the afternoon, so we’ll take him to London on Tuesday, and charge him after he’s played his part in Hyde Park and the Corner House. Talking of that, I’d like you to be at the Corner House................’
‘To identify Ebenezer?’ I burst out eagerly. ‘I’d like that.’
‘I thought you would. I’ll telephone with the arrangements.’
I smiled and relaxed. ‘Good. That’s everything settled then.’
‘Not quite.’ Putting his elbows on the desk, he leant forward and asked quietly, ‘What is it you’re not telling me, cariad?’ So this was why he’d sent Al off to explore the town. ‘I’ve known for a long time there was something.’
I had to tell him Jean had written the letters. And what I feared Ebenezer had done with them. I had no choice. Not if we were to save Mr. Taverner’s life. And, as Al had said, I had to do what was right. Even though it meant betraying Jean. ‘All right,’ I said shakily. ‘This isn’t easy for me. You see.........’