Dance of Death (27 page)

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Authors: Edward Marston

BOOK: Dance of Death
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‘I didn’t really give you any.’

‘Yes, you did. You clarified my mind.’

‘I wish that someone would clarify mine. Since Simon died, I’ve
been in a state of total confusion. I just can’t think straight.’

‘Perhaps you could answer another question for me,’ he said. ‘The sergeant may have asked this before but you might have a different answer this time. When we wanted names of potential suspects, you suggested those of Allan Redmond and Tom Atterbury.’ She nodded. ‘You put Redmond first but Mrs Wilder wasn’t sure that either of those gentlemen were possible killers.’

‘Then she doesn’t know them as well as I do.’

‘Of the two names, Mrs Wilder thought that Atterbury was the more likely one to be involved. Why did she pick him out?’

Odele’s face was puckered with concentration for a long time then her eyes lit up as if she’d just made an unexpected deduction.

‘I can make one suggestion, Inspector …’

 

When the taxi dropped her off at the Charing Cross Hotel, she paid the driver and went into the building. There was no need to ask for a room number at reception. She already knew it by heart. Catherine first checked that nobody was watching her then she took the lift up to the third floor and stepped out into the corridor. Once again, she made sure that the coast was clear before setting off briskly along the plush carpet. When she reached a room she’d been in on a number of previous occasions, she rapped on the door with her knuckles. Seconds later, the door was opened and she stepped into the room to be embraced by the man waiting for her.

‘You’re late,’ he said, locking the door.

‘My brother stayed longer than I expected.’

‘You’re here now, anyway. What’s been happening?’

‘I’ll tell you afterwards.’

Allan Redmond grinned broadly and led her towards the bed.

 

Joe Keedy wondered if he’d made a mistake. In refusing to visit Odele yet again, he’d given into the distant fear that she’d make advances to him again. Yet there was no guarantee that she’d do that and, in any case, he was more than able to resist her overtures. When he’d told her that he was engaged, he was simply using the truth as a defence weapon. Keedy was now uncertain if that weapon still existed. The argument with Alice had opened a gap between them and he was unsure how to bridge it. Then he’d heard from Marmion about a family row the night before when Paul had urged his sister not to marry Keedy. The news had annoyed the sergeant intensely but he was also reassured because Alice had reportedly sprung to his defence. They had, in effect, been reconciled. In that frame of mind, he’d have been fortified against any overtures that Odele might make. He began to regret avoiding her.

When he reached Colette’s house, he was told by her brother that she was not there but was expected back soon. Dennis Orme invited him in and offered to make a pot of tea. Keedy did not wish to put someone with a disability to the trouble.

‘I can do most things on my own,’ said Orme, brightly. ‘I just take a little longer than most people.’

‘Inspector Marmion told me how much you’d helped your sister’s dancing career. Most brothers wouldn’t have done that.’

‘If you’d seen her dance,
you’d
have wanted to support her. I loved watching her sail around the dance floor with Mr Wilder.’ He pointed to the photograph of Colette. ‘There she is, Sergeant. Dad and I are so proud of her.’

Keedy was struck by how attractive and graceful she looked. He also admired her bravery in wanting to dance for a living in front of an audience. His own attempts at dancing were very limited and not fit for public scrutiny.

‘I’d love to be able to dance like that with Harry,’ said Orme. When he saw Keedy’s look of amazement, he chuckled. ‘Harry is my girlfriend, you see. Her real name is Harriet. My sister hates me calling her Harry but it’s what we both like. Who knows?’ he went on, patting his knee. ‘I may be able to shuffle around with Harry one day. She’s strong enough to hold me up.’

‘You’re a lucky man.’

‘That’s what I keep telling myself. I’m still in one piece, I’ve got the best girlfriend in the world and my sister is going to dance on the stage in the West End.’ He got up. ‘Well, if you don’t want a cuppa, I do. As for Colette, she won’t be long. She’ll be back in no time at all.’

 

Audrey Pattinson had been pleased to see Colette again and was glad that her husband was locked away in the room where he had his military museum. It meant that the two women could talk in private. Colette told her story haltingly, not knowing if she’d get sympathy or condemnation. Audrey listened with a blend of surprise and alarm but she made no comment until her visitor had finished.

‘Do you think I was wrong to do it, Mrs Pattinson?’ asked Colette.

‘It was an unusual request,’ said Audrey, quietly.

‘But there was no harm in it.’

‘I daresay it seemed like that at the time.’

‘Mr Wilder did make that promise, you see, and I was counting on that. But when I spoke to his wife, she more or less hurried me out of the house.’

‘How much did you tell her?’

‘I didn’t really have time to tell her anything,’ said Colette, ‘and I certainly wouldn’t have confided in her the way I just did with you.’

Audrey sat up. She tried to put aside her qualms and find a way of
soothing her visitor. In choosing the older woman as her confidante, Colette was placing great faith in her and Audrey was touched by that. She searched for words of comfort.

‘All that you can do is to watch and pray,’ she advised. ‘Your anxieties may be completely unwarranted. Mr Wilder’s promise may have been kept somehow. The whole thing may blow over and you’ll go on to another phase of your life.’

‘There
is
no other phase without him, Mrs Pattinson.’

‘For me, there isn’t, Colette. I’ve gone back to being an anonymous old lady who likes to play the piano in her spare time.’ Audrey chewed her lip. ‘And I’m afraid that there’ll be a lot of spare time to fill from now on. But you,’ she added with a smile, ‘are still at the beginning of an exciting journey. One day I’ll be able to watch you performing onstage and remind myself that I played a part in your career.’

Cheered by her words, Colette was in a more positive mood when she left the house. Within a few yards, however, the doubts and fears reasserted themselves.

 

Alice Marmion did her best to put her problems aside and do her job properly. On patrol all morning with Iris Goodliffe, she had a number of incidents to deal with. For the most part, they were minor matters that could be solved with a stern word to naughty children or with some practical assistance to old people in distress. Aware of her friend’s situation, Iris was very tactful, inventing a new topic of conversation whenever the current one was exhausted. During a break, Alice thanked her.

‘I wish that it was the other way round,’ said Iris, chirpily.

‘You wouldn’t think that if you were in my position.’

‘Yes, I would, Alice. It would mean that at least I
had
a boyfriend.
And if he looked anything like Sergeant Keedy, I’d be kicking my heels with joy. My sister says that I’ll never find a man of my own because of my manner. According to Evelyn, I put men off. Do you think that’s true?’

‘No, Iris, I don’t. You just haven’t met the right one yet.’

‘I’ve met dozens of right ones,’ admitted Iris. ‘They didn’t happen to think
I
was the right one for them. I’d better resign myself to being left on the shelf.’

Alice stopped herself from saying that she’d felt the same but she now had faith that the breach with Keedy could be repaired. In defending him against her brother’s criticism, she’d emphasised all of his virtues and felt ashamed that she’d attacked him in front of someone else. What had been faintly glowing embers of love had slowly become a fire that was now starting to burn inside her. She wanted him more than ever and dared to believe that he still wanted her. The exact moment of reconciliation, however, would have to be postponed because their lives were not synchronised. A vicious murder was keeping the two of them apart.

‘When will you see him again?’ asked Iris.

‘Chance would be a fine thing.’

‘Must work always come first for Sergeant Keedy?’

‘I can wait, Iris. That’s what my mother does. I can take lessons from her.’

‘I’d wait for someone like him. To be honest, I’d wait for
any
man.’

Though Alice laughed, she felt sorry for her friend. Iris’s social life was more or less non-existent. She had nowhere to go and nobody to see. To lift Iris’s spirits, and to prevent herself from spending the whole evening preoccupied with her sorry plight, Alice came up with a suggestion.

‘Why don’t we do something together after work?’

‘Oh, I’d love that. What will we do?’

‘Given the choice,’ said Alice, ‘I’d like to make a wax effigy of Gale Force and stick pins in it.’ Iris chortled merrily. ‘We can go to that film we missed last night. I just want an evening when we let our hair down and have some harmless fun.’

 

The first thought that went through Keedy’s head was that the photograph did not do Colette Orme justice. In the flesh, she looked much prettier and had a glow about her that was arresting. Dennis Orme introduced the sergeant then hovered to see if he was needed. When Colette realised that she was to have a conversation about the murder victim, she asked her brother to leave them alone. She and Keedy then sat down opposite each other. He spoke softly.

‘There’s a question I need to ask you, Colette,’ he began.

‘I’ve already answered the inspector’s questions.’

‘Something else has come to light. We’re hoping that you can help us.’

‘I’ll try.’

‘You were clearly Mr Wilder’s best pupil.’

‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ she said, modestly. ‘I may have been one of the better dancers but Mr Wilder told us that he didn’t believe in having favourites.’

‘We’ve seen the record of the lessons he gave you. To spend that amount of time on the dance floor, you have to be dedicated. Your brother has been telling me how fit and lithe you keep yourself.’

‘I only did what Mr Wilder told me. He went running every morning.’

‘Did you know a pupil named Grenda Hayward?’

‘Yes, I know most of the people who had lessons at the studio. Grenda is a nice girl. We used to walk home together sometimes.’

‘What about Winifred Gleeson?’

‘I never got on with her,’ said Colette, ‘and neither did Grenda. She was too fond of boasting how good she was, yet we could both dance rings around her.’ She peered at him quizzically. ‘Why are you asking me about them?’

‘We noticed something in Mr Wilder’s appointments book, Colette. There was a tick beside five names. You, Grenda and Winifred were three of them. We just wondered if you could explain why you were all picked out like that?’

She was clearly baffled. ‘I don’t know, Sergeant.’

‘Was it because Mr Wilder was putting you in for some kind of examination? I know that you can win medals to show what standard you’ve reached.’

‘I’ve got all my medals on display in my room.’

‘What about the others?’

‘Grenda Hayward passed all her exams but Winifred failed. She said it was the fault of the judges but we know the truth. Miss Thompson said she’d never be as good as the rest of us.’

He was curious. ‘What is Miss Thompson like as a dancer?’

‘Oh, I think she’s marvellous!’

‘Was she as good as Mrs Wilder?’

‘In some ways, she was; in other ways, no, not at all.’

‘What is her main virtue?’

‘Odele Thompson has the perfect figure for dancing.’

‘Yes, I suppose that’s true,’ agreed Keedy, wishing – as an image of Odele gatecrashed into his mind – that he’d never brought up her name. ‘You must have learnt a lot from simply watching her.’

‘I did, Sergeant.’

‘Let’s go back to the appointments book.’

‘Mr Wilder used to fill in the amount we paid at the end of each lesson.’

‘Our interest is in those ticks, Colette. Can you think of
any
reason at all, why he should single out five of his pupils, you among them? Don’t hurry. Take plenty of time to think it over. Out of all the people he taught, five of you were given some sort of preference. Why was that?’

Colette shook her head but it was without any real conviction. A hunted look had come into her eye and she began to fidget. Keedy bided his time.

‘I really don’t know,’ she said at length. ‘I have no idea why Mr Wilder ticked our names. That’s the truth, Sergeant. I can’t help you.’

 

The visit to Odele Thompson had not been entirely unproductive. Marmion had seen hints of the vivacity that she’d turned on for Keedy’s benefit and he’d asked a question about Allan Redmond that had made Odele say something that she hadn’t even dared to think before. As a result, Marmion asked to be driven to the Wilder house. When he rang the doorbell, he had a long, fruitless wait. A second ring was no more successful. He was about to move away when Grace Chambers, the next-door neighbour, returned from the shops.

‘Hello, Inspector,’ she said. ‘Is nobody in?’

‘It doesn’t look like it, Mrs Chambers.’

‘Well, it is Friday, I suppose.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It was Mrs Wilder’s day for going up to the West End. A taxi very often called for her on a Friday morning.’

 

Reclining on the bed, Allan Redmond smoked a cigarette and admired Catherine Wilder’s naked body as she came out of the bathroom.

‘I thought you were supposed to have a bad back.’

‘It’s only a handicap if I try to dance with any real vigour.’

‘You can certainly do other things with real vigour,’ he said, patting the bed. ‘Come here.’ Catherine sat down beside him. ‘I have to tell you, Mrs Wilder, that you have revolutionised my Fridays.’

‘I could say the same of you, Allan.’

‘Is there any chance of your staying the night?’

‘No,’ she replied, ‘it’s too dangerous. Besides, I have to get back. Letters and cards are still pouring in. I have a part to play in Chingford. I can’t miss a cue.’

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