Chatfield was irked. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about this tip-off you received regarding Lambeth?’
‘I only got the message as I was about to leave my office, sir.’
‘You might have mentioned it to me.’
‘I was saving it as a surprise.’
‘I don’t like surprises of that nature, Inspector.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘You said you were sure that the information was genuine.’
‘I am, sir. My informant used to be a colleague of Ablatt’s. If he’d worked alongside him at the library, I think he’d recognise him anywhere.’
Marmion was determined to keep Caroline Skene’s name out of the investigation so he’d altered her gender and given her a job at Shoreditch library. Chatfield was suspicious.
‘I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me,’ he said.
‘You know all there is to know, sir.’
‘I wonder.’
‘I have a high regard for your role in this inquiry so I pass on any information we can glean.’
‘Make sure I’m briefed about everything.’
‘That goes without saying.’
‘What are you doing next?’
‘There’s a mountain of correspondence on my desk,’ said Marmion. ‘It’s been prompted by the press coverage. Much of it is useless — if not downright misleading — but there might be a gold nugget in there somewhere. I didn’t have time to go through it all before we met the press.’
‘Let me know what you find.’
‘I will, sir.’
‘Incidentally, what’s happened to Sergeant Keedy? When I saw him earlier, he looked as if he was ready to pass out.’
‘He finally listened to my advice and went home. The sergeant had been on continuous duty for well over twenty-four hours.’
‘That will mean a claim for overtime,’ said Chatfield, fussily. ‘I’ll have to find a way around that. We don’t have an unlimited budget.’
‘You always did keep a tight hand on the purse strings.’
‘It may be the reason I was promoted over you, Inspector.’
Marmion smiled benignly. ‘I’m sure that it was, sir.’
When Alice finished work that evening, there was no offer from Hannah Billington of a lift home in her car. She and Vera Dowling had to resort to public transport. The bus journey back to their respective digs turned, predictably, into a discussion about their day in the Women’s Emergency Corps.
‘I don’t know how you did it,’ said Vera.
‘I had to do it, Vera. We needed that lorry.’
‘You worked on that engine for ages.’
‘I took a leaf out of my father’s book,’ said Alice. ‘When he’s involved in a case, he always talks about eliminating the alternatives. That’s what I did. I ruled out almost everything that it could be, then I was left with what it really was.’
‘No wonder you’re Mrs Billington’s favourite.’
‘Oh, I’m not. There are plenty of women much more competent than me. I’m still learning, Vera. That’s the beauty of this work. You discover skills that you never realised you had.’
‘Speak for yourself,’ said her friend, morosely. ‘I have no skills at all.’
‘That’s simply not true. You worked as hard as I did when we delivered that bedding. And, considering that you understood very little of their language, you handled those children very well.’
‘My teaching experience came in useful there.’
‘Exactly — you have got skills. You just don’t realise it.’
Vera squeezed her arm. ‘Thank you, Alice,’ she said. ‘You always know how to cheer me up. I’d much rather ride back on a bus with you than have a lift in Mrs Billington’s car. When I sat in that, I felt I was trespassing.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
When the bus reached the next stop, Vera got off. Alice had two more stops to go. It was only now that she was on her own that she became aware of a man sitting at the back of the bus. She could see his reflection in the window. Short, sharp-featured and in his forties, he was staring intently at the back of her head. At first, she tried to ignore him but she remained keenly aware of his attention. Every time she glanced at the reflection, she saw the gleaming eyes and the quiet smirk. Alice was glad when the bus eventually reached her stop but, to her alarm, the man also rose from his seat. Alighting from the vehicle, she set off at a brisk pace. The sound of footsteps told her that she was being followed.
It was only a hundred yards to the safety of her digs but she had to walk down a badly lit road to get there. It was something that Alice had done countless times and there had never been a problem. It was different now. She was being stalked. Every time she quickened her step, the footsteps behind her matched the pace. Indeed, they seemed to be gaining on her. Not daring to look over her shoulder, she broke into a run and quailed as she heard her stalker following her example. She got within fifteen yards of the house before he caught her up. A hand grabbed her shoulder and she was spun round to face the man who had been ogling her on the bus. Alice tried to brush him away but he was too strong and determined. Laughing in triumph, he stifled her scream with a hand over her mouth and used the other to grope her.
His triumph was short-lived. A figure suddenly emerged from the porch of Alice’s house and raced towards them. Her attacker was pulled off her and hit with a relay of punches that sent him staggering against a wall. With blood dribbling from his nose, the man took to his heels and sprinted back down the road. Alice turned to her saviour and gave a gasp of recognition.
‘Joe!’ she cried. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I was waiting for you to come back to your digs.’
‘Thank God for that!’
Keedy grinned. ‘Don’t I even get a kiss?’
The three friends met at Hambridge’s house. Leach was interested to hear that the carpenter had received notification of his appearance before a military tribunal. It was only a matter of time before it was Leach’s turn. Price was still bewailing the fact that he’d captured the man who’d been painting words on the side of the Ablatt house, only to lose him when a detective intervened. He now knew that the man had been identified and arrested.
‘Even Sergeant Keedy could manage that,’ he said with a sneer.
‘You can’t blame him, Mansel,’ said Hambridge. ‘When he saw two people fighting in the dark, he wasn’t to know which one was you. You should remember that he was actually there. Just like you, Sergeant Keedy had worked out that the man might come back in the night. If you hadn’t got in the way, he’d have nabbed him.’
Price was livid. ‘I didn’t get in the way.’
‘You tried to do the police’s job for them.’
‘How was I to know that the sergeant was there as well?’
‘You should have had more trust in him.’
‘I wanted to get my hands on that sneaky bastard with the paintbrush,’ said Price. ‘You never know — he might turn out to be the killer as well.’
‘That’s unlikely, Mansel,’ said Leach. ‘If the police thought they’d got the right man, he’d have been charged by now and it would have been all over the Evening News. Instead, there was only a mention of that plumber being arrested. I don’t think he’s anything to do with the murder.’
‘I’d have beaten a confession out of him.’
‘He can’t confess to something he didn’t do.’
‘You can’t solve every problem with your fists, Mansel,’ said Hambridge, sternly. ‘You’ve been in trouble with the police before for doing that. When are you going to learn your lesson?’