Murder at the Ritz

by Jim Eldridge

  ‘They were nothing to do with us!’ spat Bell. ‘Nothing!’

  ‘That’s my opinion, too,’ said Coburg. ‘And I’m going to find out who was behind them. But right now, if I don’t step in, there’s going to be a war here. Not as bad as what the Germans are doing, but bad enough. The next logical step would be for you to take out Charley Barnes. Then someone on their side takes you out. Or maybe your wife and kids.’

  For the first time, Bell looked unsettled at these words.

  ‘You see what I’m getting at,’ said Coburg. ‘This stops now. You’ve both lost people—’

  ‘McGuinness was just Charley Barnes’s mate,’ snarled Bell. ‘Den was my brother.’

  ‘I know,’ said Coburg. ‘And Barnes will hang for it. Now, I’ve been advised that the simplest thing would be to let you and Barnes’s outfits carry on. Pick each other off and tear one another to bits until there’s none of you left. And that will include your families, yours and Den’s. With you all gone, my life becomes easier. That’s what I’ve been told. But I know it won’t, because sooner or later, and it’ll be sooner in the current situation with this war going on, there’ll be new people coming up. Treading on your ashes. Causing me problems. So, it stops here.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll send your boys back in. But remember what I said.’

  With that, Coburg left.

  With every table in the Rivoli Bar booked for Rosa’s session that evening, Coburg had to make do with standing outside to watch and listen to her, while at the same time studying the audience. He was surprised to see that Raymond Harris wasn’t there. Had his interest in Rosa cooled, or had something come up?

  After she’d finished her set, with two encores thrown in, Coburg drove her home.

  ‘There’s a bottle of wine on the dresser,’ she said. ‘Open that while I get to making dinner.’

  ‘No sign of Donna?’ asked Coburg.

  ‘She’s out with her boyfriend,’ said Rosa. ‘Some guy from work she seems very smitten on. So, my guess is we’ll have the house to ourselves tonight.’

  ‘Perfect,’ said Coburg.

  In no time at all, Rosa had prepared a leaf salad and presented them with a cheese omelette each.

  ‘Voila!’ she said.

  Coburg poured them each a glass of wine, and then set to work on the meal, thinking that this was such a welcome relief after the day of murder, followed by bringing in Charley Barnes.

  ‘This is delicious!’ said Coburg, forking another piece of omelette. ‘In my opinion, it’s better than anything the Ritz could produce!’

  ‘It’s just a simple cheese omelette,’ protested Rosa.

  ‘No, it’s a perfect cheese omelette. The inside is soft and runny, the cheese is completely assimilated into the egg with no lumpy bits, whatever the herb is you’ve used is just the right amount …’

  ‘It’s tarragon,’ said Rosa. ‘I got a small jar at some place when I was on tour, and I take it with me wherever I go.’

  ‘As I say, perfect!’

  ‘So, we’ve both shown one another we can cook,’ said Rosa.

  ‘You’re better than me,’ said Coburg.

  ‘Based on one omelette?’ Rosa laughed. ‘I don’t think so.’

  She topped up their glasses.

  Coburg smiled. ‘Such sophistication.’

  ‘You’re going to pretend it’s all new to you?’ asked Rosa. ‘The Honourable Edgar Saxe-Coburg, son of an ancient aristocratic family, possibly related to the royal family.’

  ‘Possibly,’ chuckled Coburg. ‘I’m fairly sure there are plenty of people who can trace their ancestry to the royal family somewhere, given Charles II was notorious for siring children with his many mistresses.’

  ‘But not all of them have an ancestral castle.’

  ‘I don’t, that’s my brother, Magnus’s. As you know, I have a modern rented flat in Hampstead.’

  ‘The poor relation?’

  ‘Not while I have you in my life,’ said Coburg.

  Rosa looked at him, then said: ‘You are the sweetest man I’ve ever known.’

  ‘It’s a side of me that you bring out,’ said Coburg. ‘In fact, I’ve been thinking—’

  Before he could elaborate on what he’d been thinking, they heard the street door open and then Donna had crashed into the kitchen, her face showing her fury.

  ‘That bastard!’ she exploded. ‘That absolute bastard!’

  ‘Who?’ asked Rosa.

  ‘Gerald,’ raged Donna. ‘He told me he was a widower, but it turns out his wife’s alive and well and been living in Scunthorpe since the war started to look after her parents. And now she’s coming back!’

  Coburg looked enquiringly at Rosa, who explained: ‘Gerald’s Donna’s boyfriend, a man at her office—’

  ‘No longer my boyfriend!’ stormed Donna. ‘And not much of a man, either, after tonight. He had the nerve to tell me this while we were in bed naked! So I grabbed a vase and smashed him in the balls with it. Let’s see him explain that injury to his wife when she comes back.’ She stood, seething, then burst out: ‘All men are bastards! You can’t trust them! They lead you on and then you find they’ve cheated you!’

  ‘Present company excepted, maybe?’ asked Coburg hopefully.

  Donna scowled. ‘You seem OK, but so did Gerald.’

  With that, she stamped out of the kitchen and they heard her tramping hard on the stairs.

  ‘Poor Donna,’ sighed Rosa. ‘As long as I’ve known her, her life’s been littered with unsuitable men.’ She looked at Coburg. ‘What were you about to say before Donna came in? You said you’d been thinking.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Coburg. ‘But somehow—’

  ‘I don’t think you’re a bastard,’ said Rosa. ‘As far as I know, you haven’t got a wife hidden away in Scunthorpe.’

  ‘I haven’t got a wife hidden away anywhere,’ said Coburg.

  ‘Would you like one?’ asked Rosa.

  ‘Yes, I think I would,’ said Coburg. ‘But only if it was you.’

  Rosa stared at him, open-mouthed. Then she closed her mouth and gulped.

  ‘Are you asking me to marry you?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes,’ said Coburg. ‘I am. I realise, of course, I’m not much of a catch, a detective chief inspector at Scotland Yard hardly fits with the glamorous world of showbusiness that you inhabit—’

  ‘Shut up,’ she said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I said shut up. Ask me again.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘So I can answer. And it will be a yes, but I just want to hear you ask the question, and for you to hear me say yes properly.’

  ‘So, Rosa, will you marry me?’

  ‘Yes, Edgar,’ said Rosa. ‘I will.’

  She picked up her wine glass and held it towards Edgar, who clinked his against hers.

  ‘Here’s to us,’ he said.

  ‘Here’s to us, and a long life together,’ she said. ‘And I mean, together.’

  ‘With you on tour all the time, and me here in London?’

  ‘We’ll work something out,’ she said. She finished her wine and smiled at him. ‘I think the next thing is to celebrate with some conjugal consummation.’

  Coburg smiled. ‘I was just thinking the same. But with fewer and more ancient words.’

  ‘That’s you old aristocratic families all over,’ said Rosa, getting up and reaching for his hand. ‘But tonight, quietly, no shouting. I don’t think Donna could handle it.’

  ‘I promise I’ll be quiet,’ said Coburg, kissing her.

  Rosa grinned. ‘I wasn’t talking about you,’ she said, as she led him out of the kitchen towards the stairs, but before they could head up them, the eerie warbling sound of the air-raid warning echoed along the street outside. They heard Donna’s door open, and then she appeared, throwing on her coat.

  ‘Bloody hell!’ she moaned. ‘A girl can’t get a decent night’s sleep in this place!’

  Coburg followed Rosa and Donna as they ran, Donna in the
lead, down the street towards the wide main road at the end. As they turned into Oxford Street there was an ear-shattering explosion so close to hand that the force of the blast hurled them off their feet. As Rosa hit the pavement she looked towards Donna and saw one of the huge windows had been blown out from the shopfront and was hurtling sideways directly towards her. As she watched the edge of the flying sheet of jagged glass struck her friend just below her chin, and the next second Donna’s head was sliced from her body as if by a knife and hurled away to lie in the road.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ‘No!’ screamed Rosa, and she ran to the body of her friend. Coburg ran after her, catching her by the arm.

  ‘You can’t do anything for her,’ he said. ‘We have to get to the shelter.’

  Rosa struggled against his grip, punching at him to try and free herself, but he held on.

  An ARP warden arrived beside them and shouted urgently, ‘Get into the shelter!’

  ‘My friend!’ howled Rosa, gesturing to the dead body of Donna.

  ‘She’s dead,’ snapped the warden. ‘Get into the shelter unless you want the same to happen to you.’

  Rosa sagged and almost fell, but Coburg held her up. She began to weep, her body heaving with great sobs as Coburg looked towards the warden.

  ‘Where’s the shelter?’ he asked.

  ‘Follow me,’ said the warden.

  Coburg, holding Rosa up, ran behind the warden until they reached a door in an alcove between the shattered windows of the store. Broken glass lay strewn across the road and pavement, and bodies lay amongst the wreckage. Although most were dead, some, Coburg saw, were moving, struggling to push themselves up.

  ‘I need to help them,’ said Coburg.

  ‘The professionals will be on their way,’ said the warden. ‘The ambulances and firefighters. Let them deal with it. Get your lady friend to safety.’

  Coburg looked at the distraught Rosa, who was on the point of collapse, then pushed her through the door and helped her down the three flights of concrete stairs that led to the basement. The huge open area, once filled with goods for sale, had been emptied and turned into a temporary home by local families. Mattresses, cushions and blankets made makeshift beds. Some people – obviously the regulars – had set up their own tables and chairs.

  Coburg spotted a woman in uniform standing by a trolley in one corner, which had a tea urn on it. They bought two cups of tea then found a space by one wall. Coburg took off his coat, folded it up and put it on the cement floor.

  There was an air of shock amongst the people here. Previously people had come down here when the air-raid warning went and had settled down for social chats. Tonight, all that had changed with the bomb going off right outside the store. Nearly everyone was covered in dust from the explosion, their clothes, hair, faces. Many were crying. Others sat in a state of shock.

  Rosa tried to hold the cup of tea, but her hand was shaking so much Coburg had to help her so she could drink.

  ‘I c-can’t stop shaking,’ she stuttered.

  ‘It affects everyone like that the first time they see someone die violently.’

  ‘Even you?’

  ‘Yes.’ He squeezed her to him. ‘The first time it happened was in the trenches during the first war. I thought I’d never stop shaking, but I had to because I was in command of a troop and I had to show the men I wasn’t affected so they wouldn’t be. In fact, my men were already hardened soldiers so used to the carnage that I had to keep up with them.’

  ‘I can’t believe she’s dead,’ whispered Rosa. ‘And her head …’ She closed her eyes and gave a whimper as the image filled her mind.

  ‘You’re moving in with me,’ Coburg told her firmly but gently. ‘When we leave here we’ll go to your house to pick up some spare clothes and whatever you need.’

  ‘I can’t go in there,’ said Rosa. ‘Not yet.’

  ‘I’ll go in,’ said Coburg. ‘Tell me what you want me to bring. A few things just for the moment. We’ll collect any larger things together later. If you can face it.’ He took the cup from her and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. ‘You’re not alone,’ he whispered.

  Dawn was just coming up as the all-clear sounded, and they made their way up to street level. Donna’s body had been taken away, but there were still others tangled amongst the rubble from the explosion.

  ‘Where will they have taken her?’ asked Rosa. ‘I have to tell her mother. We have to have her body for the funeral.’

  ‘I’ll find that out,’ said Coburg.

  ‘No,’ said Rosa, moving off and heading towards where Coburg had parked the car. ‘I have to do it. I have to do something.’

  ‘All right,’ said Coburg, following her. ‘I have a list of contacts for the emergency services at home. I’ll mark the ones you need to speak to. Phone them and tell them I’ve asked you to make contact. They’re more likely to talk to you if you’re making enquiries on behalf of a detective chief inspector from Scotland Yard.’ As they neared her house, he added: ‘I’ll stay at home today. When we get home I’ll phone the Yard and leave a message for my sergeant—’

  ‘No,’ said Rosa firmly. ‘I need to get myself sorted out. I need to do things. Find Donna’s body. Go and see her mother. Go to the Ritz to make sure everything’s right for tonight.’

  ‘You’re going on tonight?’ asked Coburg, surprised.

  ‘Yes. I have to. I need to,’ said Rosa. ‘And then I want to find out what I can do for the war, to help.’

  ‘You’re already doing it,’ said Coburg. ‘You’re lifting people’s spirits when you perform. They need what you give them.’

  ‘It’s not enough,’ said Rosa. ‘All those people lying injured in the road last night. They needed medical help, not songs.’

  ‘You’re not a trained medic,’ said Coburg. ‘And that takes years.’

  ‘A nurse!’ said Rosa.

  ‘Again, that takes months. By the time you’re ready the war could be over.’

  She shook her head. ‘No, it’s going on for years, just like the last one. And this one is going to be fought here, at home, not just abroad. I need to do something that helps save lives.’ She turned to him, determined. ‘I can drive. I’ll drive an ambulance. The more ambulance drivers there are, the quicker the injured can be treated.’

  ‘Driving an ambulance isn’t the same as driving a car,’ cautioned Coburg.

  ‘I used to drive for my father’s grocery shop, at first a van, then a lorry. If I can drive a lorry through the streets of Edinburgh, I can handle an ambulance. How do I apply?’

  ‘I’ll find out,’ said Coburg.

  ‘No, I’ll find out,’ she said, even firmer this time. ‘This is what I’m doing.’

  ‘Instead of performing?’

  ‘I can do both,’ she said. ‘When I’m not appearing, I can drive an ambulance. And I can do it anywhere, so when I do a gig somewhere far away, I’m sure they’ll need ambulance drivers.’

  By now they’d reached her house. Rosa stopped and stood in front of it, looking at the upstairs windows with tears in her eyes.

  ‘Tell me what you want me to get for you,’ said Coburg, holding out his hand for the key she produced from her pocket.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘I can do this. I need to do it on my own. Just wait here for me.’

  Coburg got in the car and waited. It was fifteen minutes before she reappeared carrying a small suitcase.

  ‘Right,’ she said. ‘Let’s go.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Sunday 25th August

  When they got back to Coburg’s flat, Coburg set to work making breakfast and, despite Rosa’s insistence that she wouldn’t be able to eat a thing, he was relieved to see her polish off scrambled eggs on toast.

  As he’d promised, he marked his list of emergency contacts with the best ones to contact in order to locate Donna’s body. ‘If you have difficulties, phone me and I’ll see what I can do.’ He wrote down his extens
ion at Scotland Yard. ‘To save you battling with an operator. If I’m not there, my sergeant’s name is Ted Lampson. He’s a really nice chap, and he knows all about you.’

  ‘All?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, what I’ve told him. But I think he guesses the rest.’

  Coburg put the wireless on to catch the early news, but as soon as the newsreader started talking about the bombing at Oxford Street, he switched it off.

  ‘No,’ said Rosa, and she turned it back on. ‘I want to hear it.’

  ‘Reports suggest over a hundred were killed and more than three hundred injured in both the Oxford Street and Barbican bombings,’ announced the newsreader. ‘These marked the first time that central London has actually been bombed. ‘In other news, the King and Queen—’

  Rosa switched the wireless off.

  ‘It’s almost like I didn’t want to believe it had actually happened until I heard it announced on the news,’ she said.

  Coburg washed up the breakfast things, then pulled on his jacket.

  ‘If I’m going in, I’d better be on my way,’ he said. ‘But do phone me if you need me.’

  She nodded.

  ‘And I’ll phone you during the day to see how you’re doing,’ he continued.

  ‘I might not be here,’ she said. ‘I could be out, doing things.’

  He nodded and took her in his arms.

  ‘If that happens, we’ll catch up later. But remember, I’m always there for you.’

  The whole way on his drive to Scotland Yard that morning, Coburg couldn’t stop himself from thinking about the way that Donna had died, and the impact it had had on Rosa, and therefore on him. Last night, before the air-raid warning sounded, they’d agreed to get married. Did that still stand? It was too soon to raise the subject. The last thing that Rosa needed right now was additional pressure on her. He’d leave it and see how things played out.

  Lampson was already at his desk when Coburg walked into the office.