Under Attack

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Under Attack Page 19

by Edward Marston


  When he asked to see Day, the woman explained that her employer was away on business, viewing some land in Surrey with a view to purchasing it. His secretary had no means of contacting him. She had to wait for Day to ring her when he was ready to return to Birmingham.

  ‘When he does telephone you,’ said Marmion, ‘I’d be grateful if you could ask him to get in touch with me as a matter of urgency.’ Taking out a card, he gave it to her. ‘I can usually be reached at that number.’

  ‘I didn’t realise you were a detective,’ she said, reading the details on the card. ‘May I know why you’re so keen to speak to Mr Day?’

  ‘I’d like to discuss his relationship with Mr Donohoe – the late Mr Donohoe.’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course. We read about it in the newspaper. It’s very distressing.’

  ‘Does that mean Mr Day will be distressed?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she replied, smoothly. ‘He always had great respect for Mr Donohoe. The whole business community here is shaken by what happened.’

  Marmion looked around. ‘Do you like working here?’

  ‘I like it very much. Mr Day is a very considerate employer, if that’s what you want to know. I’ve known far worse, Inspector.’

  Since she was prepared to talk so freely about the estate agent, Marmion exploited her willingness. He learnt a great deal about Thomas Day and discovered aspects of the man’s character that Adrian Donohoe had deliberately suppressed. For instance, Day had been heavily engaged in charity work among deprived children.

  ‘That’s very creditable,’ said Marmion. ‘Does he have a family of his own?’

  ‘Mr Day is not married.’

  ‘Is that by choice?’

  ‘Everything he does is by choice,’ she said, firmly. ‘That’s the sort of person he is. You’ll find that out, Inspector.’

  ‘I look forward to doing so.’

  Back at home, Ellen and her daughter pored over an atlas that was open at the page displaying a map of Warwickshire and its adjacent counties. It was ages before one of them spotted the name they sought. Alice’s finger marked the spot.

  ‘There it is – Corley. Do you see? It’s close to Fillongley.’

  ‘Where’s the nearest railway station?’

  ‘It must be Coventry, by the look of it.’

  Ellen lifted her head. ‘What was Paul doing on a farm, I wonder?’

  ‘He was working there, Mummy. That much is clear and we ought to be glad. It shows that he’s alive, well and able to make some sort of living.’

  ‘But he’d only be a labourer, wouldn’t he?’

  ‘There’s no shame in that. Farmers are crying out for help on the land. That’s why so many young women have gone to work on farms. Paul’s big and strong. He’d be a real asset.’

  ‘Then why was he told not to come back?’

  ‘We could speculate endlessly about that,’ said Alice, closing the map book. ‘The first thing we must do is to tell Daddy. He deserves to know that our worst fears were quite unnecessary.’

  ‘They’ve been replaced by others now.’

  ‘But Paul is alive. That’s what you were so desperate to know.’

  ‘Yes, but he obviously upset this man he worked for, the farmer who didn’t even bother to sign his name. He sounds as if he’s very cross with Paul.’

  ‘Yet he sent money for him. How did he know the address?’

  ‘I can’t answer that.’

  ‘Paul wouldn’t have given it to him. He cut himself off from this house. To all intents and purposes, we don’t exist.’

  ‘Alice!’

  ‘It’s the truth, Mummy.’

  ‘I can’t let myself believe that. Deep down, he’s still one of the family.’

  ‘That’s not what Paul thinks. Oh, it’s so difficult, isn’t it?’ said Alice, embracing her mother. ‘One day we want him back and the next day we don’t. Though I’m relieved that we know he’s able to hold down a job for a certain length of time, part of me wishes that we didn’t.’

  ‘Would you rather go on torturing yourself about him?’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t.’

  ‘Then be glad that we know something positive at last.’

  ‘I am.’

  Alice broke away and her mother saw the tears in her eyes. Ellen realised that her daughter’s mind was not entirely focussed on her brother.

  ‘Forget Paul,’ she said, softly. ‘Tell me about Joe instead.’

  Keedy kept going over and over the evidence in his mind. Alone in Marmion’s office, he opened his notebook and flicked through it. Four names stood out in the current inquiry – Patrick Armitage, Jean-Louis Peebles, Norris Sprake and Thomas Day. All but Sprake had the ability to garrotte someone but it was more difficult to equip each of the quartet with a strong enough motive to do so. Keedy resisted the impulse to add Adrian Donohoe’s name to the list. Though there was patently bad blood between him and his father, he did not seem capable of murder or of hiring an assassin to kill on his behalf. Jonathan Ulverton was another contender to be eliminated. Though he stood to gain control of Club Apollo from his partner, he had no apparent reason to get rid of Donohoe. The two men had mutual interests. There was no sense of rivalry between them. They were natural friends.

  Following the advice Marmion gave in every investigation, Keedy looked for connections between the suspects. Peebles was employed by Sprake but neither of them were regular visitors to the Devonian. On the other hand, there was some link, as yet unidentified, between Peebles and Thomas Day. The chauffeur had hotly denied knowing the man but Keedy was certain that he was lying. That was why he believed the two of them might have worked together. Though he was probably not in league with anyone else, the hotel manager could not be crossed off the list. His rejection by the Club Apollo would have infuriated him and one of the men who personified the place was an habitué of the Devonian. Armitage must have seen Donohoe many times since he’d been rebuffed. His urge for revenge would have kept bubbling away.

  Keedy was still trying to decide which of the four men should be the prime suspect in the case when Alice dismissed everything else from his whirring brain. The rift between them worried him. While he understood her desire to name a day for the wedding, he held to his belief that they needed to build up their savings first. He’d known friends who’d begun their married life under the roof of the bride’s home and, to a man, they complained about being embarrassed and inhibited. A home of his own was an essential in Keedy’s view. He baulked at the notion of moving in with Alice’s parents and he felt that Marmion would object to it as well. Keedy was in a cleft stick, desperately wanting to appease Alice yet quite unable to do so. The impasse between them could not be allowed to go on. The sooner the murder was solved, the sooner he and Alice could apologise to each other and sit down for a proper discussion.

  He turned back to the four suspects with increased urgency.

  Marmion didn’t even consider interviewing Mrs Doreen Pinnick, as she now was. The murder victim’s younger daughter could tell him little about her brief relationship with Thomas Day. Indeed, she might well prefer to tell him nothing at all. Unwilling to dredge up unpleasant memories from the past, she would be of no real use to the inspector. When she knew Day, she was a single woman. Doreen was now married with two children and still grieving for her father. It was the worst time to approach her. Marmion therefore contented himself with what he’d learnt from his time with Clara Donohoe, her son and Thomas Day’s secretary. Some mysteries had now been solved. Others remained.

  With so much new information to collate in his mind, he hardly noticed the noise and discomfort of the train journey to London. It seemed a matter of minutes before he was stepping on to the platform at Euston. Taking a taxi to Scotland Yard, he first reported to the superintendent. Chatfield seized on the news.

  ‘So the sergeant may be right, after all. Thomas Day could be our man.’

  ‘He’s certainly someone we need to track down, sir,’ said Ma
rmion. ‘His secretary told me that he usually stayed at a hotel in Knightsbridge whenever he was in London. That’s some way from the Devonian.’

  ‘And where is he at the moment?’

  Marmion explained that Day was somewhere in Surrey but that, when he spoke to his secretary, he’d be asked to get in touch with the inspector immediately.

  ‘If he doesn’t make contact,’ said Chatfield, ‘we’ll both know why.’

  ‘It doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s the killer, sir.’

  ‘What other interpretation could you place on his behaviour?’

  ‘I’m going on what his secretary told me about him. He’s not the villain we’re starting to paint him as. To begin with, he’s revered by his staff. That’s in his favour.’

  ‘I’d prefer to rely on Adrian Donohoe’s estimate of him. Thomas Day is a business rival with an axe to grind. Why else would he stay at the Devonian if he didn’t have designs on Gilbert Donohoe?’

  ‘I don’t know, sir.’

  ‘Then sit by the telephone until he calls – if he calls, that is.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve no doubts on that score. Mr Day is not going to take to his heels and give himself away. In my view, he may yet have no reason to do so. Until we have more evidence,’ Marmion reminded him, ‘he must still be presumed innocent.’

  ‘I’m the last person who needs to be told that,’ said Chatfield, prissily.

  ‘Of course, sir.’

  Taking his leave, Marmion went along the corridor to his office. No sooner had he sunk into his chair than the telephone rang. Had his message got through to Thomas Day already? Hoping that it had, he snatched up the receiver excitedly.

  ‘Inspector Marmion here …’

  ‘Thanks heavens!’ exclaimed a familiar voice.

  ‘Is that you, Ellen?’

  ‘Yes, it is. Something’s happened.’

  ‘Is it to do with Paul?’

  ‘He’s been working on a farm in Warwickshire.’

  There would not be long to wait. Burge sensed it. The Stepney Warriors had gone ominously quiet but it was not because they’d been routed. They were ready to strike back at the most propitious moment. He needed to find out when that moment was. His informer was the old man from the junk shop, fearful of repercussions but putting his trust in the police.

  ‘What have you heard?’ asked Burge.

  ‘Very little.’

  ‘Seen anything of their leader?’

  ‘Greg’s keeping his head down. It’s still heavily bandaged after the attack.’

  ‘Won’t stop him fighting.’

  ‘Nothing’ll do that, Constable.’

  ‘Meanwhile, the Evil Spirits are lording it over them. I’ve watched the cheeky bastards marching down the streets as if they own them.’

  ‘They’re really nasty. I done business with ’em so I know.’

  ‘Have you had any more threats?’

  ‘I’ve had stares,’ said the old man, worriedly. ‘That’s enough.’

  ‘Your troubles may soon be over,’ said Burge. ‘If we catch them in the act, we can put them away and get rid of the terrible fear that’s in the air. You know these kids better than anyone. Keep listening.’

  When he entered the room, Keedy was pleased to see that Marmion had returned. The inspector was just about to come to the end of a telephone call and, from the pained expression on his face, it looked as if he’d heard bad news. Keedy waited until he put the receiver down.

  ‘Trouble?’

  ‘Yes and no.’

  ‘Who were you talking to?’

  ‘Ellen.’

  ‘She’d only ring if it was serious.’

  ‘It is, Joe.’

  Marmion told him about the letter addressed to Paul and how his wife had agonised over whether or not to open it. Unable to get advice from her husband, Ellen had accosted her daughter and been encouraged to tear open the envelope. Keedy was astonished to hear what it contained.

  ‘Paul’s alive and someone was employing him?’

  ‘That’s the good news. The bad news is that he’s been sacked, by the look of it. We know where he used to work but we have no idea where he is now.’

  ‘Someone has to go to the farm.’

  ‘That’s why Ellen rang. It will be her or Alice.’

  ‘Then it will have to be Ellen. I can’t see Gale Force showing any sympathy. That woman has a heart of stone.’

  ‘You’re being too harsh on her, Joe.’

  ‘How did Ellen sound?’

  ‘She was pleased and worried at the same time,’ said Marmion. ‘And she was still feeling guilty about opening Paul’s letter.’

  ‘Thank goodness she did! At least, we know he’s not dead. Ellen shouldn’t have any qualms about what she did. It was her right as a mother. I’m sorry that it caused her so much anxiety.’

  ‘That’s not the only thing that’s upset her, Joe.’

  ‘Oh – what else was there?’ Marmion gave him a look. ‘Ah, yes – that. Every couple goes through a bad patch from time to time,’ he went on, uncomfortably. ‘It’s nothing serious.’

  ‘Alice obviously thinks that it is.’ Getting no response from Keedy, he set the subject aside. ‘Let’s get down to business. What happened at the Devonian?’

  ‘I finally got Armitage to admit that he remembered Thomas Day, after all.’

  ‘Did you learn anything valuable about the man?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Then I’m way ahead of you.’

  Marmion told him about the visit to Birmingham and how Adrian Donohoe, under pressure, had talked at length about Thomas Day. He was no longer an anonymous guest at the Devonian Hotel but a sworn enemy of the Donohoe family. Set against that was the image of Day that was supplied by his secretary. Keedy ignored that in favour of what he’d heard from Adrian Donohoe.

  ‘That’s fairly conclusive,’ he said. ‘Knowing where his target routinely stays when he’s in London, Day books into the same hotel and lies in wait. Once the murder is committed, he makes a hasty exit.’

  ‘But there’s no proof that he committed the murder, Joe.’

  ‘He was party to it somehow.’

  ‘Who was the killer?’

  ‘If it wasn’t him, it was Peebles. He and Day are in this together.’

  ‘That seems an unlikely partnership. Day is in competition with the property company for which Peebles works. His chauffeur is dog-loyal to Mr Sprake. Why would Peebles team up with a rival like Thomas Day?’

  ‘Look at it another way, Harv. The facts are undeniable. Donohoe is murdered and Day immediately vanishes. I fancy that he’s gone to ground somewhere.’

  ‘He could equally well be closing a deal in Surrey.’

  ‘What was he doing at the Devonian on that fatal night?’

  ‘I hope to put that question to him before long,’ said Marmion. ‘Meanwhile, we must not forget the Club Apollo. That was an important element in Donohoe’s life and I’d like to know a little more about it. We’ve only seen the place during the daytime. I think it’s time we found out what happens there of an evening.’

  ‘Do you want me to find out?’

  ‘Yes, I do. It could prove instructive.’

  ‘What will you be doing?’

  ‘If I had the choice,’ said Marmion, seriously, ‘I’d be on my way to that farm in Warwickshire, but this case has the first call on my time. Paul will have to wait.’

  Ellen was suffering the pangs of motherhood. The son of whom she’d once been so proud had disowned her and her daughter was moping about her private life. Inclined by nature to worry, Ellen had much to bemoan. She and Alice sat either side of the kitchen table, each with an untouched cup of tea in front of them.

  ‘I’m so sorry to spring up in front of you like that,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Mummy. I was pleased to see you.’

  ‘But you might have had plans for the evening.’

  ‘All I was going to do was to sit in my room a
nd pine for the days when Joe and I were happy together.’

  ‘You still are happy, Alice, but it’s a different kind of happiness now. You can’t expect those early feelings of joy to last for ever. You have to make adjustments. I’ll always believe that you and Joe Keedy were made for each other.’

  ‘Then why do we have different ideas about our future?’

  ‘He’ll come round to your point of view in the end.’

  ‘I’m not sure that I have a point of view any more,’ said Alice, forlornly. ‘Until now, Joe and I have always done everything together – but we’re miles apart now. As for jumping on me when I finished work,’ she continued, ‘I couldn’t have been more grateful.’

  ‘Why – has Inspector Gale been giving you a hard time?’

  ‘She always does that.’

  ‘So why were you glad to see me?’

  ‘It’s because you saved me from further persecution. Iris has been badgering me for hour after hour, going on about this new friend of hers as if it’s the romance of the century. They’ve only been out together once but she’s been talking non-stop about it. Was I like that after my first ever date?’

  ‘No – you told me very little.’

  ‘Iris is telling me far too much. I don’t think Doug would like it at all.’

  ‘Doug?’

  ‘PC Doug Beckett is, in her words, the man of her dreams, even though he’s almost fifteen years older and has this sinister moustache. I don’t begrudge Iris any pleasure. I just wish she’d attracted someone else. Doug is too experienced – he was married but his wife died. On the strength of one night out, Iris is hoping to replace her,’ said Alice, pursing her lips. ‘She could be in for a big disappointment.’

  ‘She has unreal expectations, poor dear!’

  ‘Maybe that’s my trouble as well.’

  ‘No, Alice,’ said her mother, ‘you’re far too level-headed. What you and Joe Keedy have is built on solid rock. Iris, on the other hand, is living in a sort of fairy-tale world. It sounds to me as if she’s heading for a fall. She’ll need a friend like you to be on hand to catch her.’

 

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