A Bespoke Murder (13 page)

‘Do you have any evidence to that effect, Sergeant?’

‘We know that they were at the rear of the premises at the time, Major. That’s evidence enough to make them suspects.’

‘And who provided that evidence?’

‘The young lady,’ said Marmion. ‘Miss Ruth Stein.’

‘Doing so by proxy, I gather.’

‘She was under immense stress. You have clearly never dealt with rape victims before, Major. Sergeant Keedy and I have, and we know how hard it is to get them to come forward. In all my years in the police force,’ he went on, ‘I’ve never heard one false accusation, because women know the kind of punitive cross-examination they’ll face in court, not to mention the cruel and unfair assumptions that people like you will invariably make.’

Biting back a reply, Birchfield walked behind the table that was serving as his desk. The room he was using as his office was small and low-ceilinged. It had undulating paving slabs on the floor and peeling walls. Judging by the pungent aroma, it had once been used to store cheese and other dairy products. Weighing his words, the major returned to the attack.

‘Do you know what is happening at the moment?’ he asked.

‘You’re fighting a fierce battle,’ replied Marmion.

‘It’s more than that, Inspector. This is the second time Ypres has been in the thick of the action and Brother Bosch has decided to assault us with a new weapon – poison gas. It’s already taken its toll.’

‘This is hardly relevant to the matter in hand.’

‘I think it’s extremely relevant, because it goes to the heart of the matter. Priorities – that’s what we’re talking about, isn’t it? What takes priority? Is it the word of some girl who let her emotions get the better of her, or is it two members of an overstretched army fighting against a deadly enemy? Private Cochran and Private Gatliffe are no use to us
if they’re carted off to London. We need them here. They’ll be in the trenches very soon, where they’ll run the risk of being shot, shelled, forced to cough up their lungs by chlorine gas or made to cry their eyes out by a swinish German lachrymator, benzyl bromide. In short, they are brave soldiers acting out of patriotic impulse.’

Marmion was scathing. ‘I don’t consider rape to be brave or patriotic, Major,’ he said with asperity, ‘nor do I find the idea of two drunken men setting upon a defenceless young woman anything but repulsive. You should be ashamed that Cochran and Gatliffe are wearing army uniforms. They are a disgrace to your regiment.’

‘That’s for us to judge,’ said Birchfield, stung by his words. ‘All that I’ve heard so far are unsubstantiated allegations.’

‘They are supported by two arrest warrants.’

‘What if it’s a case of mistaken identity?’

‘Then the two men will be released without charge.’

‘From the information that we have,’ said Keedy, ‘that seems unlikely. The victim was able to supply us with the names of the two men and the fact that they were leaving for France on the following day. That led us to
your
regiment, Major.’

Birchfield scowled. He sat down behind his makeshift desk and weighed up the possibilities. Reluctant to hand the two men over, he searched for ways to send the detectives packing. Marmion seemed to read his mind and jumped in smartly.

‘I can see that we are wasting each other’s time, Major,’ he said, briskly. ‘You clearly don’t have the authority to make a decision on the matter. We would therefore ask to speak to your commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Knox. Unlike you, he will doubtless understand the importance of arrest warrants and a letter from the War Office.’

‘
I
was assigned to deal with this,’ said Birchfield, haughtily.

‘Then please do so without prevarication. Yes,’ said Marmion, stifling a protest with a raised hand, ‘I know that there’s a war on. My own son is stationed south of here with his regiment. And in case you think Miss Stein would surrender herself to a drunken stranger in an alley, I should tell you that she comes from a respectable middle-class family and that her brother, Daniel, is fighting on the Mesopotamian Front under the command of Sir John Nixon. Now then,’ he added, crisply, ‘are you going to comply with our request or do we need to discuss your obstructive behaviour with your commanding officer?’

Eyeing the inspector with distaste, Birchfield capitulated.

‘I’ll have these men sent for,’ he said, coldly.

Alice Marmion got back from school to find her mother on her knees as she cleaned the grate in the living room. When she looked around, Alice saw that the whole place was spick and span. Her mother had even burnished the copper plates that stood on the mantelpiece. There was no need to clean the grate. It might be months before they needed to have another fire. And there was no call for vigorous housework in a room that was already spotless. Alice understood. Her mother was eager to keep herself busy so that she did not brood on Marmion’s visit to the Western Front. The worried look on Ellen’s face showed that the strategy had comprehensively failed.

‘Hello, dear,’ she said, hauling herself to her feet. ‘I was just sprucing the place up a bit.’

‘It doesn’t
need
sprucing up, Mummy. Come here.’

Alice took her by the arm, led her to the sofa and lowered her onto it. Putting her bag aside, she sat beside her and held her hand.

‘Daddy is fine,’ she said. ‘There’s no point in worrying.’

‘I’m bound to have some fears, Alice.’

‘Why? He’ll be nowhere near the actual fighting – much to Joe Keedy’s disappointment, I daresay. The person we need to worry about is Paul, not Daddy. Paul is in the trenches yet you don’t let anxiety about him weigh you down.’

‘I did when he first joined up,’ said Ellen. ‘I stayed awake for nights on end. As time passed, it somehow got easier to bear.’

Alice squeezed her mother’s hand then rose to her feet.

‘I know what you need.’

‘I’ll make the tea, Alice.’

‘Oh no you won’t,’ said her daughter, easing her back down on the sofa as she tried to get up. ‘Stay here – that’s an order.’

Ellen gave a grateful laugh. Going into the kitchen, Alice filled the kettle, set it on the stove and lit a gas ring. Evidently, her mother had spent a lot of time there because every surface gleamed and every item was in its rightful place. In the time that Alice had been at school, her mother had also done the washing and ironing. The windows had been cleaned on the outside and the inside. When she glanced into the back garden, Alice saw that a lot of effort had been expended on tidying that up as well.

Having made the tea, she took it back into the living room on a tray and set it down on the low table beside the sofa. Alice perched on the edge of an armchair.

‘I’ve just seen how much work you’ve done today,’ she said. ‘If this is what being married involves, I’m going to stay single.’

‘I have to keep the place looking nice, Alice.’

‘Then clean it once a week at most.’

‘Believe it or not, I like housework.’

‘Well, I don’t. I find it soul-destroying.’

After waiting a short while, Alice put milk into the two cups then
removed the tea cosy. As she poured from the teapot, she used the strainer to catch the leaves. Her mother added sugar and stirred her cup. Alice spurned the sugar. Grabbing one of the biscuits, she wolfed it down.

‘I didn’t have time for a proper lunch,’ she explained.

‘Why not?’

‘Well, I still can’t make up my mind about whether or not to join the Women’s Emergency Corps. You and Daddy are against the idea so I decided to get some independent advice.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I went over to see Uncle Raymond.’

‘I told you to keep him out of this discussion.’

‘He’s family. His opinions count. So I walked over there.’

‘That was a long way to go.’

‘I didn’t mind. I felt that he’d listen without hectoring me. He’s so patient and he never makes you feel that you’re stupid.’

Ellen frowned guiltily. ‘Is that what
we
do, Alice?’

‘Not exactly,’ said Alice, ‘but I don’t always feel that I get a fair hearing. I was able to talk at length to Uncle Raymond without any interruption.’

‘And what was his advice?’

‘He said that I should follow my instincts. After all, that’s what he did when he joined the Salvation Army against the wishes of just about everyone in the family.’

‘I’m surprised that he didn’t try to recruit
you
.’

‘As a matter of fact, he did,’ said Alice, grinning, ‘though it was partly in fun. Anyway, he gave me food for thought but nothing that I could actually eat.’

She munched a second biscuit. Looking at her daughter, Ellen could not believe that someone so attractive and patently intelligent 
had not met her partner in life yet. Ellen had been years younger when she’d met and married Harvey Marmion and she tended to use that fact as a yardstick. The thought that Alice might end up as a spinster was deeply unsettling. After a mouthful of tea, Ellen tried to sound casual.

‘It’s high time you had a chap of your own, you know.’

‘I don’t
want
one, Mummy.’

‘You have such a limited social life.’

‘That’s not true. I go to dances occasionally and I sing in a choir. I just haven’t met the right man yet.’

‘I’m not sure that you’ve been looking, Alice.’

‘I’ve had more important things to do.’

‘Nothing is more important than marrying and having a family.’

‘That’s a matter of opinion. At the moment, I’m enjoying my freedom while I can. There’ll be little chance of doing that if and when I do eventually have a husband.’

‘Haven’t you met
any
young man you really liked?’

‘I’ve met several,’ said Alice, ‘but they already have girlfriends. Either that, or they’ve gone off to join the army. I don’t want my choice to be limited to a small number of chaps, Mummy.’

‘What sort of person would attract you?’

‘I want one who is fabulously rich and who’ll indulge my every whim.’ They both laughed. ‘Failing that, I’m looking for someone who is … very special.’

‘Does he have to be handsome?’

‘He has to have pleasant features, certainly.’

‘Will he be older than you or a similar age?’

‘Oh, he must be older, that’s definite.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Men take much longer to grow up,’ said Alice, mischievously. ‘That’s been my experience, anyway. Every chap I went out with was very nice until he had a drink inside him. All of a sudden, they became giggling schoolboys and I have enough of those at work.’

‘So you want somebody more adult? What about character?’

‘He must be honest, reliable and have a sense of adventure.’

‘Is there anything else?’

Alice was pensive. ‘I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘Except that I’d want him to treat me as his equal, of course.’ Ellen grinned. ‘Did I say something funny?’

‘No,’ replied her mother. ‘It’s just an odd coincidence, that’s all.’

Alice was befuddled. ‘Coincidence?’

‘Your ideal man has to be very special, handsome, older than you, honest, reliable and with a sense of adventure. Oh, and he must treat you as an equal. Is that a fair summary?’

‘Yes, it is.’

‘Then you’ve given me a perfect description of Joe Keedy.’

Alice came extremely close to blushing.

Divide and rule. The detectives adopted their usual policy. While Marmion interviewed John Gatliffe, Keedy was given the task of confronting Oliver Cochran. They made sure that the two men were summoned separately so that they had no time to concoct an alibi together. Keedy had the use of a room so small that its only furniture was a table and two chairs. He made sure that he sat down between Cochran and the door. Taking out his pad and pencil, he looked the suspect up and down. He could see instantly that he would meet with resistance. When he was told who Keedy was and why he had come into a theatre of war, Cochran was at first flabbergasted. He quickly
recovered and stoutly denied the allegation of rape.

According to the soldier, he’d been drinking in a Soho pub on the evening in question and could call on several friends to vouch for him. He had no idea where Jermyn Street was, he insisted, and would have had no reason to be there.

‘How do you explain the fact that the young lady knew your names?’ asked Keedy.

Cochran looked blank. ‘What young lady?’

‘The one who remembers you well enough to identify you.’

‘She’s making it all up.’

‘Why on earth should she do that, Private Cochran? What woman in her position wants to admit that she was sexually assaulted by two men in the alley at the rear of her father’s shop? It’s highly embarrassing for her. Why would she do it?’

‘Ask her.’

Keedy aimed several more questions at him but Cochran had erected a brick wall that the detective could not penetrate. Now that he was in the army, the soldier felt safe. A touch of arrogance crept in. Keedy changed the angle of attack and asked him something that caught him off guard.

‘Did you murder Jacob Stein?’ he demanded.

Cochran blenched. ‘What are you on about?’

‘During the time that you and John Gatliffe were close to the scene of the crime, the owner of that shop was stabbed to death. Was that your doing, by any chance?’

‘We weren’t even there.’

‘Think carefully before you give another glib answer,’ warned Keedy. ‘Rape is a serious offence but murder carries the death penalty. If you fight in the trenches, you stand a chance of being killed by a bullet or
a shell. It will probably be a quick death. That’s not the case on the gallows. When you and Gatliffe are found guilty of murder, it will be a slow and deliberate end to your useless lives.’

Though he was certain that Cochran was not involved in the death of Jacob Stein, Keedy saw no harm in using the accusation as a prod. It quietened the suspect completely. Instead of trying to brazen it out, Cochran lapsed into silence. He realised that he was in serious trouble. He also knew that there was a strong possibility that Gatliffe would crack under pressure and give them both away. Cochran was determined to avoid a prison sentence. Somehow he had to escape. His head fell to his chest and his arms were slack. He pretended to have given up. Gathering his strength for attack, he suddenly made his bid for freedom.