Edward Marston - A Bespoke Murder

‘I’m certain he does, Inspector. You get a feeling about some people and Brad was one of them. He’s seen the inside of a prison.’

‘And he may well do so again.’

The two men were seated behind Marmion’s desk as they leafed through the records. It was painstaking work but Keedy insisted that it would pay dividends. He was keen to identify the bald man whom he’d met at the Lord Nelson. All that they had to go on was a first name and a hunch but Marmion had learnt to trust his colleague’s hunches. As he turned over another page, he remembered Keedy’s visit to the house the previous evening.

‘What did you say to Alice?’ he asked.

‘We had a pleasant chat, that’s all.’

‘Well, she was in a lovely mood this morning. And she was much more tactful with Ellen. Every time her mother tried to start an argument, Alice managed to calm her down.’

‘I don’t think I can claim any credit,’ said Keedy.

‘You perked my daughter up, I know that.’

‘I simply told her she was making the right decision.’

‘She’d need more than that to lift her spirits.’

Keedy beamed. ‘It’s the effect I have on women.’ As a new face came into view, he took a close look. ‘That’s like him. In fact, it’s very much like him but …’ He shook his head. ‘No, it’s not him. He’s got the same broken nose but the eyes are different from Brad’s.’

‘So is his name,’ observed Marmion. ‘He’s Eric Hubbleday and he can’t possibly be your man. Look what it says here.’

Keedy read the note aloud. ‘Deceased — March 10, 1914.’

‘Let’s move on.’

As they continued to sift through the records, Keedy let his mind wander to other aspects of the investigation.

‘Did you have a report on David Cohen’s movements?’

‘It was on my desk when I arrived.’

‘What did it say?’

‘Cohen took the train to Brighton, had a drink in a pub, then went to call on someone with whom he’d once worked.’

‘Was it Howard Fine, by any chance?’

‘You’ve guessed it, Joe.’

‘What do you conclude from that?’

‘When he talked about Fine, the manager wasn’t telling the truth. Either both of them were involved in a plot to kill Mr Stein, or they’re on — how shall I put it — intimate terms.’

‘I thought that Cohen was a married man.’

‘It’s often the case,’ said Marmion. ‘When I was in uniform, I helped to raid a club in Soho. We went looking for pornography but what we found was a club for effete gentlemen. Almost all of them turned out to have wives and children.’

‘Are you keeping the manager under observation?’

‘Oh, yes — and I’ve got a pair of eyes on Howard Fine as well.’

‘What motive could they have for killing Mr Stein?’

‘One may well emerge, Joe,’ said Marmion. ‘What they did have were means and opportunity. Cohen had the keys to the shop, after all. He could have let someone in surreptitiously at night.’

Keedy was dubious. ‘I don’t see Fine as a killer somehow.’

‘Looks can deceive. Think how many respectable-looking men have turned out to be ruthless murderers — Dr Crippen, for instance.’

As they talked, they continued to flick through the pages so that Keedy could study the photographs. Eventually, he slapped his hand down on a particular page.

‘That’s him, Inspector,’ he said.

‘Are you sure?’

‘If I had any, I’d bet my life savings on it.’

‘You were right about him having a record and it’s not a very pretty one — assault and battery, malicious wounding and armed robbery. He was only released from Pentonville last year.’

‘Do we pay him a visit?’

‘No,’ said Marmion, studying the face in the photograph, ‘we have to catch him in the act of breaking the law. You meet up with him and that other man on Friday. If this True British League is really bent on destruction,’ he went on, looking up, ‘we’ll be standing by to arrest the whole damn lot of them.’

‘Does that include me , Inspector?’

Marmion slapped him jocularly on the back. ‘You’ll be the first we put the cuffs on.’

Miriam Stein was tugged repeatedly between relief and apprehension. Delighted that her daughter was back home, she feared for Ruth’s mental condition. It was not in her nature to be so headstrong. In the space of a week, however, the girl had contemplated suicide, then climbed out of her bedroom and fled. Miriam had been overjoyed when a uniformed policeman brought Ruth safely back to Golders Green the previous evening. She’d also been amazed at how excited Ruth had been, accepting the strictures of her mother and her uncle with a quiet smile on her face. It was only now, after a late breakfast together, that Miriam was able to probe deeper into the mystery of what had happened.

‘Why didn’t you tell us where you wanted to go?’ she asked.

‘I couldn’t do that, Mummy,’ said Ruth, ‘because Uncle Herman would have stopped me.’

‘He might have tried to talk you out of it.’

‘That comes to the same thing. He’d have got his way. I’d have been kept here and might never have been able to screw up my courage again. Don’t you see? I had to go.’

‘To be candid, Ruth, I don’t see.’

‘I had to overcome my fear of those two men,’ explained Ruth. ‘I was terrified of seeing them again in court when I gave evidence. I wanted the whole case to be dismissed. Then I saw how weak and cowardly that was of me, so I did something about it.’

‘Yes,’ said Miriam, ruefully, ‘you frightened the life out of me and your Uncle Herman. He thought you’d been kidnapped.’ ‘I’m sorry about that, Mummy. I rather hoped that you wouldn’t even notice that I’d slipped out. I hoped to be home before either of you even realised that I was missing.’

‘We were on tenterhooks for hours.’

‘I didn’t mean you to suffer.’

‘Your uncle was so frustrated,’ said her mother. ‘He couldn’t go looking for you because he didn’t have his car, and he couldn’t use your father’s car because that’s still in the West End garage where the police had it towed to examine it. It was maddening, Ruth. However,’ she went on, taking her daughter by the hand, ‘if going back there helped you in any way, then I’m glad you did. I just wish that we’d known about it in advance. Didn’t you trust us to understand?’

‘No, Mummy, I didn’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘I didn’t understand myself until I got there.’

Miriam leant across her and gave her a kiss. When she sat up again, she took out a handkerchief and mopped up the tears that were forming in her eyes. She’d always believed that she had a close and trusting relationship with her daughter but the last week had fractured that illusion. Ruth was a complex and conflicted young woman. Adversity had reduced her to a point where her whole life had seemed pointless. Somehow she’d rallied. With no assistance from anyone else, Ruth had found the nerve to risk climbing out of the house in order to visit a place that Miriam could never bring herself to go because of its associations. Her daughter had somehow shrugged off those grim associations. She seemed completely restored.

‘It wasn’t just for my own benefit,’ said Ruth, happily. ‘It was for all the family. I wanted to make you proud of me again. I wanted you to see that I’ve got the strength to live through this. I’ll get better,’ she went on. ‘I know it. I’m not going to let this ruin my life. I owe it to Daddy. It’s what he would have expected of me.’

Bursting into tears, Miriam stood up and put both arms around her. The worst was over. The daughter that she knew and loved had come back to her at last. It was a miracle.