The Riddle at Gipsy's Mile (An Angela Marchmont Mystery 4) (20 page)

BOOK: The Riddle at Gipsy's Mile (An Angela Marchmont Mystery 4)
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Unable to shake off her thoughts on the matter, Angela decided to go round to the mews where the Bentley was kept. William lived in a little room above the garage, a
nd Angela happened to know that Alvie Berteau was staying with him at present while he and his band looked for a new engagement. Angela wanted to talk to the musician, but knew that he was unlikely to be very forthcoming if she summoned him to Mount Stree
t
, so instead she resolved to pay him a visit under the pretence of making some trivial inquiry of William about the car.

As she expected, she found William under the bonnet, tinkering idly, while Alvie sat on a packing-case and polished his trumpet. She d
ealt with the matter of the car first of all, and then said,

Any luck in finding a new job yet, Alvie?

The young man shook his head.


No, ma

am,

he replied.

I could find something for myself today if I wanted to, but you see, I

m looking for something
for the whole orchestra, and that

s not so easy to find at short notice.


I suppose not,

said Mrs. Marchmont.

What a pity. I

m sorry it

s come to this,

she went on.

I had no idea this would happen when I asked you about Lita. I had no intention of put
ting you all out of a job.


No matter, ma

am,

said Alvie generously.

You did the right thing. It

s not fair that she should die and not get justice. I

m only sorry I didn

t speak up sooner. That was wrong of me.


Do you think Johnny Chang is guilty, th
en?

asked Angela in curiosity.

Alvie shrugged.


I don

t know,

he said.

The police seem to think he is.


But what is your feeling on the matter?

Alvie, looking momentarily surprised that someone like Mrs. Marchmont should ask his feelings on anything,
said after a pause,

Well, I guess I never saw him as the type.


Why not?


He doesn

t seem to have the hatred,

said Alvie.

Whoever murdered Lita did it out of hatred, don

t you think? I don

t know who could have hated her that much but I don

t think i
t was anybody at the club. Most people liked her well enough, as far as I could see.


That is very interesting,

said Angela thoughtfully.

I hadn

t thought of it like that. Yes, I think you are very likely right

there was real hatred behind this killing.
I wonder what she did to inspire it?

 

TWENTY

A day or two after the arrest of Johnny Chang, Inspector Jameson received a telephone-call from the Suffolk police to say that they had found the mysterious Lew, who had come forward following the identificati
on of the murder victim in the newspapers, claiming to be her brother. Jameson raised his eyebrows at this, but he and Willis duly went up to Felixstowe to speak to the man, who was unable to get time away from work to come and visit them in London.

They f
ound him living in a cramped cottage in a dingy street not far from the docks. A man of about thirty answered the door to them in his shirt-sleeves, having evidently just returned from work. Jameson was struck by his dark looks; it was easy to see why Ger
a
ldine had thought he might be foreign when she had met him. He spoke with a perfectly normal English accent, however, which sat rather oddly upon him.


You are Lewis Markham?

asked Inspector Jameson.


Yes,

said the man, and stood back to let them in. He
led them into a tiny but comfortable parlour, which was spotlessly clean.


I believe you can tell us something about Lita de Marquez,

said Jameson.


She was my sister,

said Lew Markham.

My twin sister, as a matter of fact. And her real name wasn

t Lita,
it was Lily. Lily Markham, her maiden name was.

He hesitated for a second.

Is she really dead? Can you be sure it

s her?

he said.


I

m afraid it

s quite certain,

said Jameson gravely.

She was identified by a birth-mark.


On her left arm? She had one
there in the shape of a crescent-moon.

Had there been any doubt in the inspector

s mind that Lita de Marquez and Lily Markham were one and the same, it was now dispelled. He nodded.


I

m afraid so. I

m very sorry, Mr. Markham.

Markham bowed his head.


I
read that you

ve arrested the man who did it,

he said after a moment.

When is the trial? I want to come and see it.


A date hasn

t been set yet,

said Jameson.

It

s early days and there are still a few things we need to clear up.


Why did he do it?

demanded the young man. His face had darkened and his fists were clenched.

What harm did she ever do to him?


As I said, we don

t know the whole story yet,

said the inspector.

We had enough evidence to arrest Chang but there

s still a lot we don

t know
. Suppose you tell us about your sister. It might help us to build up a clearer picture of her last days.

Lew Markham looked away.


I can

t say she lived a blameless life,

he said,

but when you think about what she came from

well, it

s hardly surprising.

He sat on a shabby sofa, looking at the floor with his hands between his knees, and told them Lita

or Lily

s story.

Their father had died when they were very young, and their mother had remarried shortly afterwards, to a drunkard and a bully who had hat
ed the children and beat them often. The young Lew longed to protect his sister and mother from the violence, and felt shame that he was unable to do so. But over the years he grew, and eventually one day he was big enough to hit back. By that time it was
too late to repair the damage, however. At fifteen, Lily ran away from home and went to London, vowing never to return as long as her stepfather remained. She had always liked singing and dancing, and very soon she began to get parts in the chorus of vari
o
us productions.

Lew went to visit her whenever he could, but quickly became concerned about the company she was frequenting. She was a very pretty girl and, he felt, rather too free in her behaviour with some of the men she saw every day hanging about the
theatre. He didn

t like it, and tried to warn her of the dangers she was running, but Lily said there was no harm in it, and wasn

t she entitled to a bit of fun at last, after having had such a miserable time of it? Lew went back home then, but not withou
t
misgivings, and not before warning her in no uncertain terms of what might happen if she were not more careful.

Eventually, their stepfather drank himself to death

much to everybody

s relief, and then it was just Lew and his mother living in the little co
ttage together. Lew went away to fight in the war, but still he and Lily kept in touch, though infrequently. The war ended and he came back and was lucky enough to get his old job back at the docks. He was a good worker and had returned uninjured, thank G
o
d, and so they were only too pleased to take him, since many of the men from the area had died or been terribly wounded.

Shortly after the end of the war, Lily returned to their little cottage without warning, and to Lew it looked as though his worst fears
had come true, since she brought with her an infant child. She would say nothing of its father

only that they had been honourably wed and that he had died. Whether it was true or not they never knew. Of course, there was gossip, and people in the neighbo
u
rhood said that there had been no wedding at all, but what could Lew and his mother do? Lily was theirs and they loved her, and they would never turn her away, child or no child.

For a few years they lived together comfortably enough in the cottage. He wor
ked at the docks, and his mother earned a little money by taking in washing. Then, one day about three years ago Lily disappeared again. They soon received a letter from her. She was sorry she had run away and left the child, but she craved her freedom so
very much, and wanted to return to her old career on the stage. As soon as she was settled and earning money she would send for her son, but in the meantime she was entrusting him to their care.

Lew doubted whether she would ever send for him. He knew she
loved the boy, but she lacked the capacity to look after him

as a matter of fact, their mother had done most of the work in that regard. Still, they went on with their lives, and heard from Lily occasionally. She was unable to get any more work on the sta
g
e: her dreams of becoming a famous actress had been disappointed and she was becoming rather too old for the chorus, when there were girls coming up who were ten years younger than she. She wrote to him saying that she had taken a job as a dance hostess i
n
a night-club, but did not mention which one. Lew was worried about her again: he was unfamiliar with the world of night-clubs and had no clear idea of what dance hostesses did, but surely the work would bring her into contact with all kinds of low compan
y
?

Then, two months ago the blow had fallen, and their mother had died suddenly. Now there was no-one to look after the child. He, Lew, was out at work for fourteen hours a day, and could not bear the responsibility alone. He had written to Lily, asking her
to come home and claim her son, but had received no reply. He wrote once more, then gained the permission of his foreman to take some time away and went in search of her, leaving the boy in the care of a neighbour.

He spent a couple of weeks going from ni
ght-club to night-club, asking whether they had heard of a Lita de Marquez

since he knew that was the name she used. For some time he had no success, and was just about to give it up and go home when someone suggested he try the Copernicus Club. When he s
p
oke to a waiter there who told him that yes, Lita worked at the club, Lew felt a huge sense of relief and thought that his search was over. He went to her lodgings, in the belief that the only difficulty that lay before him was how to persuade her to come
home and be a mother to her son

only to find that she must somehow have got wind of his coming and had run away again. There was nothing to do but return home sorrowfully. At around the same time, he remembered reading about the dead woman in the ditch, b
u
t he made no connection between her and Lily, since the girl they found had had blonde hair and Lily was dark. It wasn

t until the story of Johnny Chang

s arrest for her murder got into all the newspapers that he finally realized the terrible truth. Hardl
y
able to believe it and stricken with grief, he had gone to the police as soon as he could.

Inspector Jameson felt a great deal of sympathy for the young man, who had, after all, lost both his mother and his sister in the space of only a few weeks, and who
now found himself having to care for a young boy alone. He was about to ask another question when they were interrupted by the entrance of the child in question, a boy of about eight or nine, who had just arrived home from school. Although he was older t
h
an he had been in the photograph found in Lita

s suitcase, there was no doubt that it was the same child.

The boy stared at the two policemen curiously but said nothing.


Go upstairs, Bertie,

said his uncle.

I have something to talk about with these gent
lemen.

The boy gazed at them for another second, but then obeyed without question.


Have you told him about his mother yet?

asked Jameson.

A spasm of pain passed across Lew

s face.


No,

he said.

How can I tell him when he

s only just lost his grandmoth
er? What am I meant to say to him? That his mother was mixing with men she didn

t ought to and that one of them murdered her? It

s not right.

He fixed them with an intense stare.

You will hang him, won

t you?

he said.

You won

t let him get away with w
h
at he did to Lily?


If he did it, then he will get justice,

said Jameson.

And all we need to do is to find some more evidence,

he said privately to Willis as the two of them left the little cottage and headed back to London.

I

m not keen on the though
t of putting Johnny Chang in front of a jury of typical Englishmen, with all their prejudices about Chinese men and white slavers, without something more concrete than we have already. Who knows what ridiculous ideas they will get into their heads?


Does
it matter, if he did it?

said Sergeant Willis.

We don

t want him to get off scot-free if he really is a murderer.


You and I have made enough mistakes in the past to know that the evidence is the thing,

said Jameson.

It

s all very well saying that we

re pretty sure he did it, but you can

t hang a man on a hunch.

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