‘Calm down,’ he said, trying to put an arm around her.
She pushed him away. ‘Leave go of me!’
‘There’s no need to fly off the handle, Ruby.’
‘Is this how it’s going to be? Every time we need to make a big decision, will you have to go and take the advice of your friends first?’
‘It’s not like that at all.’
‘Well, that’s how it seems, Gordon.’
‘I’ve got … obligations.’
‘I used to think you had obligations to me.’
‘I do,’ he said, getting flustered. ‘Listen, I can’t explain when you’re in this sort of state. Why don’t we wait until we can talk this over quietly? There’s no need for an argument. I love you, Ruby. We’re on the same side. Don’t you see that?’
‘All I see is that you’ve made me look a fool.’
‘That’s not true.’
‘I’ve got to go back home to my parents and tell them that it was a joke. You never really wanted to get married to me at short notice, did you?’
‘I did!’ he protested. ‘Part of me still does.’
‘Well, I don’t want part of you, Gordon Leach. I want all of you. If I can’t have that, I’ll have nothing at all.’
Pulling out a handkerchief, she turned round and scurried off down the street. He ran after her and grabbed her by the shoulders to bring her to a halt. Ruby was trembling all over.
‘Why don’t we discuss this another time?’ he said, desperately. ‘We’ve obviously got off on the wrong foot.’
‘There’s nothing to discuss,’ she said, laying down her ultimatum. ‘It’s time you made your choice. Who is more important to you — me or your friends? I’m not prepared to share you with them, Gordon. I really mean that.’
Brushing away his hands, she walked off again and he was too dazed to follow. Leach was mortified. Because of his folly, he was in danger of losing her altogether.
Caroline Skene could not be rushed. Marmion could see that. When he got to the police station, she was brooding on the bench. Glad to be rescued from the place, she said nothing as they got into the car. Marmion wondered what she was doing in Shoreditch but did not press her on the subject. When he suggested that they should drive back to Lambeth, she shook her head vigorously. He used his own initiative. Ten minutes after picking her up, they were sitting side by side on a park bench. There was no danger of anyone overhearing them there. Sensing that she wouldn’t have got in touch with him unless she had something important to divulge, he was patient and considerate.
‘There’s no hurry,’ he said. ‘Take all the time you need, Mrs Skene.’
It was almost over a minute before she finally spoke.
‘I owe you an apology, Inspector,’ she began.
‘Why is that?’
‘There’s something I should have told you when we first met,’ she said, ‘but I was too confused by what had happened. The news of Cyril’s death shook me to the core. I still haven’t got used to it.’
‘Tell me about this apology.’
‘I’m related to the Ablatt family. Gerald is my cousin.’
‘That explains how you met his son.’
‘We’ve known each other for years. It was a very long time before we … got closer to each other.’ She looked up at him. ‘Don’t be too critical of us.’
‘Is that why you were in Shoreditch?’
‘Yes, Inspector — I went to offer comfort. If I’m honest, however, I was there for another reason altogether.’
Marmion was ahead of her. ‘Did you want to retrieve something, perhaps?’
‘Yes, I did,’ she admitted. ‘I’d sent him letters and given him keepsakes. I didn’t want his father finding them. It would have hurt him beyond bearing.’
‘And did you find what you were after?’
‘I was lucky. The vicar called at the house and that gave me the chance to go upstairs. I searched every nook and cranny. There’s nothing left to incriminate us.’
‘Falling in love with someone is not a crime, Mrs Skene.’
‘It is in this case. It was forbidden love, Inspector. I was married and Cyril was much younger than me. It felt wrong from the start but we couldn’t help it.’
‘There’s something else, isn’t there?’ he asked. ‘I don’t think you’d have got in touch with me unless you had important information to give.’
She lowered her head. ‘You’ll think ill of me when I tell you.’
‘I’ve no reason to do that, Mrs Skene.’
‘In a way, it’s hampered your investigation. I should have been honest.’
‘You were trying to absorb some frightful news,’ he said. ‘You’d suffered a terrible blow. Anyone would be bewildered in those circumstances.’
‘I wasn’t that bewildered, Inspector,’ she said. ‘I knew that I should have spoken up. But it was something that I wanted to keep to myself, a memory that I’ll always treasure. It was the newspaper that made me see sense.’
‘How did the newspaper do that?’
‘It gave details of the murder and showed a diagram of the route that Cyril would have taken on his way home that evening. But that wasn’t the way he went at all,’ she said, raising her head. ‘He didn’t go from Bishopsgate to Shoreditch. He came to see me first. Cyril was so excited about what had happened at the meeting that he simply had to tell me about it. I’ve never seen him so happy.’ She inhaled deeply. ‘Can you see what I’m trying to tell you?’
‘I’m afraid that I can,’ said Marmion, letting his annoyance show. ‘The murder took place somewhere between Lambeth and Shoreditch. We’ve been looking in the wrong place.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
There were times when Claude Chatfield showed exactly why he’d been promoted to the rank of superintendent. He was a whirlwind of activity, scanning the newspapers, sending his minions here and there, collating all the information he received, reporting to the commissioner, Sir Edward Henry, and organising another press conference. The murder of Cyril Ablatt was only one of the cases for which he was responsible and his grasp of detail in every one of them was impressive. When he and Marmion faced the press again, he even remembered to smile, though his hatchet face was so unused to expressing bonhomie that it came across as a sinister leer. Having filtered the post-mortem report, he gave them enough information to fill a column without descending into ghoulishness. Chatfield also made much of the arrest of Robbie Gill and praised Detective Sergeant Joseph Keedy for tracking the man down. The reporters were familiar with Keedy’s name because he’d ably assisted Marmion in the past in some very complex cases.
‘I now hand you over to the inspector,’ said Chatfield, sitting back.
Marmion took over. ‘Thank you, sir.’
He had little to add to what they’d already been told with the exception of the information garnered from Caroline Skene. As a result of what he claimed was an anonymous tip-off, he told them that the police would now widen their search to include Lambeth. The route taken home by Ablatt from Bishopsgate therefore had to be amended.
‘How do you know he was in Lambeth, Inspector?’ asked someone.
‘He was spotted there by a friend.’
‘Can you give us the name of that friend?’
‘I wish I could,’ said Marmion, face motionless. ‘But the information is very specific and I’ve no reason to doubt it.’
‘Why didn’t this so-called friend reveal who he is?’
‘I should imagine that he didn’t want to get embroiled in the investigation. As you know, that’s all too common. People who have valuable evidence sometimes prefer to pass it on anonymously to avoid any repercussions. In cases of murder, particularly, they fear for their safety.’
‘Villains will do anything to scare witnesses,’ confirmed the superintendent, ‘and I don’t need to tell you about jury tampering.’
Marmion invited questions and they were fired at him with the rapidity of bullets from a Gatling gun. He answered them all and set the pencils scribbling into notebooks. Chatfield felt obliged to interject from time to time but it was Marmion they all wanted to grill. He was calm under fire. Though he’d been distressed at the slant some of them had put on their articles, he offered no censure. Nothing he could say would make them view a conscientious objector more dispassionately. When the press conference was over and everyone dispersed, he walked along a corridor with the superintendent beside him.