He was smiling. He couldn’t stop. Miss Sharp raised a questioning eyebrow when she saw him, but he didn’t say a word. It was still family news. He wasn’t about to spread it until he’d talked to Annabelle.
Suddenly all the paperwork in front of him seemed mundane. He’d known there would be much more of it when he accepted the position, but he hadn’t anticipated this amount. Still, he’d been ready for something different, and the chief had persuaded him that running CID for the whole of Leeds would test him. So far, though, there’d been little to offer a real challenge. Maybe this shooting would change that.
The telephone rang and Ash’s voice was in his ear.
‘I thought you’d want to know, sir. Dr Lumb confirmed what we knew about Fess. Death occurred between midnight and three; he doesn’t want to be more precise than that. What he did say is that the killing made him think of an execution. The modern equivalent of a beheading were his words.’
Interesting, Harper thought. And worrying. ‘Have you brought Mullen in yet?’
‘He’s still waiting in the interview room, sir. Had him there for quite a few hours now.’
For a moment he was tempted to go down and handle the interrogation himself. He missed all that. But this was Ash’s case. It had taken place on his manor, and he knew how to run a tight investigation. Harper took a breath. ‘Let me know what happens.’
‘Very good, sir. I talked to the man following him last night. After the Victoria he went back at his father’s place on Somerset Street for half an hour. Then he walked over to his hotel. The lights went out in his room by half past ten. Our constable left after that. We had no reason to believe we needed someone on him every minute. Of course, there are plenty of ways out of the hotel.’ A small cough. ‘And we didn’t know he was armed. No sign of a weapon when we searched his room, of course.’
‘No.’ A reproof, and completely deserved. As soon as he’d taken the weapon from Mullen, he should have informed Ash. ‘My fault. Lean on him.’
‘Don’t you worry, sir. I plan on it.’
The rest of the day passed in a flash; he could barely recall a moment of it. The first thing he really knew was his driver parking in front of the Victoria. Then Harper was through the doors and hurrying up the stairs.
Annabelle stood in the kitchen, taking a casserole from the oven for their tea. She turned and saw the expression on his face.
‘Mary told you, then?’
‘She even took me out for my dinner. All grown up, and she paid the bill. How long have you known?’
‘She told me yesterday, but it’s been in the wind for weeks now. The poor lad just needed to pluck up his courage and ask her. He’s as bad as you were before you popped the question, all that pussyfooting around.’
‘When are they going to get married? I was so caught up in it all that I never thought to ask.’
She dished up the food on two plates and handed him one. As they sat at the table, she said: ‘It’ll be a while yet. He still has two months on his apprenticeship. I know Hunslet Engine have said they’ll take him on, but he’ll want to have his feet under the table and put a few bob away before they walk down the aisle. I expect they’ll be engaged for a year at least.’
‘And a big church do after that?’
She stared at him, sighed, and shook her head: ‘Honestly, what do you think? Of course it’ll be big. We’ll have a proper service and a slap-up meal afterwards. And don’t you dare imagine you can go cutting corners, Tom Harper. We have the brass and we’re going to spend it. She’s the only child we have. We’re going to give her a wedding day she’ll remember the rest of her life.’
Annabelle had made up her mind; there was no point in complaining or protesting. Not that he would. Just like her, he wanted Mary to have the very best. At least he didn’t have to dip his hand in his pocket yet; it was still a long way off.
‘Where is she tonight?’
‘Having her tea at Len’s. They’re breaking the news to his parents. And he’s coming here tomorrow, so you’d better make sure you’re on your best behaviour.’
That was him warned. He spent the evening going through the Mercury and the Post. News of Fess’s murder had come too late to make the early editions. Not that there was much to tell, and Ash would handle any reporters who wanted details. For now, at least, they’d keep Mullen’s name out of it.
FIVE
‘Good morning, sir. It’s Kersey over at D Division.’
Harper smiled and pressed the receiver close to his ear. He’d known Bob Kersey for far too long; they’d been cadets together, back in the mists of time. Three years ago he’d been promoted to superintendent and put in charge of the area around Armley, Wortley, and Bramley. A good man for the job.
‘What can I do for you, Bob? As long as it doesn’t cost a penny, it’s yours.’
‘The governor at Armley sent me a note. He’s releasing the suffragette today. Miss Lenton. A taxi’s booked for noon.’
With everything else that was happening, it had slipped his mind. ‘Thank you for reminding me. At least we’re not involved in this one; Special Branch is keeping an eye on her.’
‘The government must want her to slip out of the country.’
‘The chief reckons she’ll be gone in three days. My money’s on two.’
Kersey laughed. ‘Is that how our top brass spend their time now? Making book on when a criminal will scarper?’
‘If you prefer, Superintendent, I could come over there and spend a few hours inspecting your detectives … have them on parade all togged out in their top hats and best coats.’
‘No, that’s fine. I’m sure you all know exactly what you’re doing at the town hall … sir.’
He wasn’t going to worry too much about Lilian Lenton. It had become Branch business, nothing to do with Leeds CID. He followed up on reports of a string of burglaries in Hunslet, wanting to know what progress they were making, and dealt with all the memos and correspondence that Miss Sharp piled on his desk.
Harper blinked as he stood by the lion on the town hall steps. The sun seemed too bright after the dimness of his office.
‘I’m glad I caught you, sir.’
He blinked once more and saw Walsh on the step below him. The inspector had aged well; there were still plenty of traces of the bright young constable he’d put into plain clothes sixteen years before.
‘That sounds ominous,’ Harper said with a smile and glanced up at the clock. ‘I’m going for my dinner. Why don’t you come with me?’
The Kardomah on Briggate was busy, the air rich with the smell of coffee. Upstairs, women ate at tables and a few businessmen gulped down a sandwich or an omelette. They were lucky; a mother and grown daughter were leaving and they took the window seat, where they could look down at the street.
Harper studied the faces passing below, looking for any he might recognize. He knew Walsh would be doing the exact same thing; no need to ask. It was copper’s habit. But there was nobody. Leeds had grown so large and spread so wide that sometimes it seemed as if it had become a city full of strangers.
‘You might as well tell me about it,’ he said as he cut up his cheese and onion tart. ‘The Fess killing?’
‘Yes, sir. We pressed Mullen as hard as we could, but he didn’t give an inch. Pointed out that he’d been at the hotel all night. Our own man had followed him there. And he couldn’t have shot anyone because you’d taken his gun.’
‘Too clever by half,’ Harper said.
‘Exactly, sir. As if he’d arranged the whole thing. A double bluff, perhaps. We searched his room from top to bottom. Then his father’s house on Somerset Street, with the old man cursing up a blue streak. Nothing at all. Exactly as you’d expect. We’ve had some of the people Mullen’s been spending time with in, too, but so far we haven’t come up with anything at all.’
‘What about Fess? What had he been up to?’
‘Sissons and Galt are looking. Superintendent Ash suggested I come and s
ee you, in case you fancied stepping out from the office and helping us.’
Harper threw back his head and laughed. ‘Go on, then. Which one of you came up with that one?’
Walsh blushed, the colour rising up from his shirt collar. ‘When you were the superintendent at Millgarth, you always used to complain that you spent too much time behind your desk. I imagine you hardly poke your nose out at all these days, sir. And you have to agree that this is interesting.’
It was certainly that. The kind of case he used to relish. Now, though, he had too many responsibilities. All of Leeds was his manor. He had to keep an eye on plain clothes officers across the city.
‘I’ll do what I can,’ he said as he poured the last of the coffee from the pot and stirred in some cream. ‘I can’t promise to give it much time, but you’re right, it’s intriguing.’
Walsh grinned with pleasure. ‘It’ll almost be like the old days, sir. The super thought you’d want to be involved, given that Mullen showed up at the Victoria.’
‘I haven’t forgotten about that,’ Harper said. ‘Keep me up to date on everything you find. That’s your job; Ash has the whole of A Division to run.’
‘I will, sir. Every day, more if something happens.’
‘Good enough. You know how to reach me in the evenings, too.’
‘Yes, sir. And thank you for dinner.’
‘Just don’t expect it to become a habit.’
They shook hands and Harper strolled back to the town hall. Almost one o’clock. In his office, he picked up the telephone receiver and asked the operator to connect him with Chapel Allerton police station.
‘Inspector Douthwaite.’ The man always sounded posh, as if he was speaking with a plum in his mouth, but he was a solid, reliable copper.
‘Harper here. I just wanted to check that Miss Lenton showed up as expected.’
‘I watched the taxi drop her off half an hour ago, sir. Two Special Branch men were right behind it the whole way. They’re parked on Westfield Terrace now.’
That was what he wanted to know. Now he could really set it all aside and let the Branch botch the job. More paperwork, interrupted by Miss Sharp bringing a cup of tea at three, and finally some letters to dictate. Five on the dot and he was outside, climbing into the Model T and settling on the leather seat as the driver started the engine.
Traffic was heavy on the journey out to Sheepscar. More of it every year, Harper thought. Horses and carts, lorries, trams, motor buses and motor cars: the roads seemed as if they were bursting with them, everything going slower when it was designed to move faster and faster.
It wasn’t just the roads; for God’s sake, there were even people up in the skies now. Flying, as if they wanted to be birds. He’d been amazed when he read about Bleriot flying across the Channel – what was it, three, four years ago? Just a few months later, he and Annabelle had driven up to Soldiers Field to watch a Leeds man fly an aeroplane he’d designed and built himself. A chap called Blackburn, an engineer who’d started a business selling them from a workshop on Benson Street, just the other side of the river. And it was impressive, no doubt about that. Breathtaking. It was the future. The world was changing right in front of his eyes, something new every day, and Harper understood he didn’t have a hope of keeping pace with it.
‘Here we are, sir,’ the driver said as he pulled on the handbrake. ‘Usual time in the morning?’
‘Yes. Thank you.’
Upstairs, Annabelle was waiting, looking him over with a critical eye as he stepped through the door. ‘Go and put on a fresh collar,’ she told him. ‘That one’s all grubby.’ She licked a fingertip and wiped at a mark on his cheek as if he was a child. ‘Wear your red tie, too, Tom. The dark red one, not the scarlet. It goes better with that suit.’
He did as he was told; life was easier that way. A few minutes and he was sitting in the armchair reading the Evening Post while Annabelle worked in the kitchen. Just before six she came out, apron off, and checked her own appearance in the mirror before inspecting him once more.
Two minutes after the hour, Mary arrived with Len right on her heels. She was still talking nineteen to the dozen as she hung up her coat and took his cap.
Poor Len, Harper thought. The lad never looked completely comfortable here, as if he was worried he might say the wrong thing. He was big, awkward at times, still growing into his body. Gawky; he seemed to lope as he moved. That would all change in a year or two. This evening he appeared more nervous than ever. He didn’t even relax as they ate, barely speaking a word as Harper asked him about the apprenticeship. But he seemed more at ease once they moved on to the job waiting for him at Hunslet Engine.
‘Did you know they do business all over the world? Africa, India, almost all the Commonwealth countries. They’ve promised they’ll give me the chance to better myself, too,’ Len said with a smile.
‘Better yourself?’ Annabelle turned to stare at him. Like a hawk, she’d picked up on the words. He hesitated before he replied.
‘Yes, Mrs Harper. They told me I have real potential and they’ll help me study for an engineering degree while I work.’
Now, that would definitely be something, Harper thought. Mary was brimming over with pride, and he didn’t blame her. University was for people with money. Len must have true talent if the company was willing to do that for him. Still waters, he thought as he looked at the young man. Len was an ordinary-looking lad, not especially handsome. He had unruly fair hair that he’d pomaded and brushed into faint submission, the remnants of a few youthful spots on his cheeks, blue eyes that darted around. Big hands with thick calluses on the palms. Nothing to mark him out at all. Just a regular working man.
Len had turned down a third slice of cake. Mary and Annabelle had cleared away the plates and the tea had been poured. Harper could have sworn that his daughter was nudging her young man under the table.
‘I think Mary’s already told you,’ Len began. ‘I asked her to marry me and she said yes.’
He stopped, as if he wasn’t sure what else to say. But he appeared so completely happy. Mary rested her head against his shoulder, looking as content as he’d ever seen her.
Harper looked at him. ‘We’ll be proud to have you as part of the family.’
‘We’ll be buying the ring soon,’ Len continued.
‘This needs more than tea,’ Annabelle announced. She picked a bottle of whisky and four small glasses from the sideboard and poured them each a tot. ‘To love and marriage and years of happiness.’
‘We couldn’t be happier for the pair of you.’ Harper toasted them. He looked at Len. ‘She’s picked a fine young man, and you’ve got the best girl in the world.’ As he opened his mouth to add more, the telephone rang.
‘Harper.’
‘It’s Inspector Walsh, sir. I know you’re off-duty—’
Not now, he wanted to say. But he stopped himself before the words slipped out, keeping his voice pleasant and even. ‘I told you, any time is fine, if you have something to report.’
‘It’s nothing definite,’ the man began. ‘But I talked to the super and he said I should let you know.’
‘Well, what is it?’ Make it quick, he thought. ‘Don’t keep me in suspense.’
‘I heard a whisper a couple of hours ago. From a man who’s usually reliable. He said there’s another American around Leeds.’
‘What?’ He almost bellowed the word, aware that Annabelle and the others had turned to stare at him. ‘A third one? That’s not possible. Are they sure it’s not Mullen? Or perhaps he saw Fess before he was killed?’
‘He’s positive, sir. According to him, this one’s quite small. Completely different to the others. That’s all we have on him.’
Harper was silent. He had no idea what to make of it. Walsh’s voice intruded as his thoughts raced.
‘It’s just a rumour, nothing to back it up.’
‘It doesn’t matter, you did right to tell me. Pass the word. Let’s get everybody look
ing for him.’
‘Very good, sir.’
‘If anything else comes up, let me know immediately.’
He sat down again, but the mood was broken. Five more minutes and the youngsters left to see a variety show at the Empire. As they were going, Len handed Annabelle an envelope. ‘My mam said to give you this.’
‘They’ve asked us to their house one evening,’ she said as she read it. ‘Listen: As we’re going to be in-laws, it seems only proper we should meet, so we’d be glad of your company. Yours faithfully, Mrs Edna Robinson. Isn’t that lovely? I’ll drop her a line in the morning and make the arrangements.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed. But his mind was already elsewhere.
SIX
Nine in the morning and the heads of each division had gathered in the chief constable’s office for the monthly meeting. Harper sat to one side, half-listening. Little of the conversation so far involved him; CID was his real bailiwick, not the drudgery of rotas and assignments.
His moment came at the end, bringing up several cases and asking how investigations were progressing. Before setting his notepad aside, he said: ‘You’ve very likely heard about our dead American and the main suspect.’ They nodded their acknowledgement. ‘It seems there’s word going round that we might have yet another Yank here. A third.’ He gave the brief description. ‘Remind your men. We’d like to talk to him. Be careful, though. I don’t know, but he might be dangerous.’
‘Is he a possibility?’ Brian Duncan from B Division asked.
‘I’m not even sure he actually exists.’ It made them all smile; they’d all experienced their share of phantom culprits. ‘But yes, if he’s real, he’s a possibility.’
As the meeting broke up, he walked downstairs with Ash. Their footsteps echoed off the high ceiling and marble walls.
‘Anything fresh this morning?’
‘Very little at all, sir. No trace of this third man, and we don’t have a prayer of breaking Mullen’s story. He’s been through this kind of thing too often before. I let him go last night.’
Brass Lives Page 4