Five Dead Canaries (23 page)

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Authors: Edward Marston

Tags: #Historical, #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #War & Military

BOOK: Five Dead Canaries
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When he felt the train gradually slowing down, Niall Quinn craned his neck over the side of the wagon and saw lights ahead. They were coming into a marshalling yard. Even with the bandage on, his ankle would barely take his weight. It led him to wonder if he should stay where he was for the night. It was unlikely that the wagons would be unloaded until the next day. Even if someone came to check the cargo, he could evade prying eyes by crawling under the tarpaulin. On the other hand, he warned himself, escaping in daylight meant taking obvious risks. Anyone seeing him would take note of his limp and he couldn’t hope to outrun any pursuit. On balance, it was better to
withstand the discomfort of travelling on foot and make his exit under the cover of darkness. As the train got ever slower, therefore, he braced himself to take a chance.

At least they knew that it was the right train. Having got to the yard five minutes ahead of it, the detectives had established that it had to be the one on which Niall Quinn had obtained a lift. There was no guarantee that he was still on it, however, but they remained optimistic. They watched the locomotive haul its load into a siding and come to a halt, hissing steam into the air. Marmion and Keedy set off. Keeping either side of the train, they walked towards the rear and checked every wagon. The fugitive had boarded the train somewhere about halfway down but it was not impossible that he’d made his way forward during the journey. Someone who could escape the high security of Frongoch had to be extremely resourceful. They made allowances for the fact, moving stealthily and careful not to show their hand too soon.

It was Marmion who saw him first. As he made his way along the wagons, he saw a head appear some twenty yards or so in front of him. Kneeling down in the shadows, he waited until a leg came into view. It was followed by the body of Niall Quinn, lowering himself gingerly to the ground. Since his back was turned to him, Marmion risked an attack. He stood up and ran towards the Irishman, hoping to catch him unawares. In seconds, he was staring down the barrel of a gun. Roused by the noise of footsteps, Quinn had swung round to face Marmion. Still yards away from him, the inspector came to a dead halt. He was able to take a good look at him and identify the man whose photograph he’d seen at the prison camp. It was definitely Niall Quinn. Knowing that Keedy was nearby on the other side of the wagons, he raised his voice and sought to distract the Irishman.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ he said. ‘If you go back to Frongoch, all you’ll have
to face is a longer sentence. Use that gun and you’ll be signing your death warrant.’

Niall was puzzled. ‘Who the devil are you?’

‘I’m Inspector Marmion of Scotland Yard and I’ve followed you from the home of your uncle, Eamonn Quinn. The game is up, lad. Why don’t you hand that weapon over?’

Extending a hand, Marmion took a few paces towards him.

‘Stay back!’ warned Niall. ‘I’ll shoot if I have to.’

‘That will rouse the whole place. Dozens of people will come running. You can’t kill the whole lot of us, Niall. There’s no escape.’

‘I’m only trying to make it easy for you.’

‘How did you get here?’

‘We followed you in the car.’

Niall was wary. ‘Who are “we”?’ he demanded.

‘Me and my driver,’ replied Marmion, careful not to mention Keedy.

‘Where’s the driver now?’

‘He’s still in the car.’

‘Then I can borrow him for a while,’ said Niall, limping towards him. ‘I’ve got a hostage, you see. You’re my way out of here, Inspector.’

‘What if I refuse to go with you?’

‘Then I’ll shoot you dead where you stand.’

It was no idle threat. When the gun was levelled at him, Marmion knew that his life was in danger. But help was very near. Having worked his way along the wagons, Keedy had ducked under the buffers and come out on the other side. He was well behind Niall and creeping towards him. Marmion played for time.

‘Take the car,’ he said. ‘You don’t need us.’

‘I can’t drive with my ankle like this.’

‘Then accept that you’ve got no hope of getting away.’

‘There’s always hope.’

‘What happens when we take you where you want to go?’

‘That depends on how cooperative you are.’ He motioned with the gun. ‘Lead the way to the car and keep your back to me.’

‘As you wish, Niall,’ said Marmion, humouring him.

The two of them set off. It was the moment for Keedy to strike. Coming up behind Niall, he tried to dive on his back but the Irishman had a sixth sense. He spun round and lashed out with the gun, catching the sergeant hard on the side of the head and knocking his hat off. Keedy slumped to the ground. Before Marmion could move to his aid, the gun was pointed at him again.

‘How many more of you are there?’ asked Niall.

‘There’s only the driver – I swear it.’

‘Then keep moving.’

‘Let me see to the sergeant first.’

Niall put the barrel of the gun against Marmion’s forehead. It left its imprint on the inspector and persuaded him to do as he was told. With Keedy still motionless on the ground, the two of them walked along the track, Quinn at the rear, until they came to an exit that led to the place where the car was parked. Marmion was less worried about his own dilemma than about the injury suffered by Keedy. The gun had hit him with vicious force. He didn’t relish the thought of describing to his daughter what had happened. There was still some way to go and Marmion didn’t hurry. With his ankle causing him searing pain, Niall was content with the slow pace.

Keedy was still groggy as he hauled himself to his feet. It had been a glancing blow and his hat had taken some of the sting out of it but it
had been enough to stun him and to draw blood. After rubbing his head gently, he made sure that he’d regained his balance before setting off. Dim figures were moving ahead in the middle distance. He could see that Marmion was taking an unnecessarily long route to the car. It gave him his opportunity. Keedy lurched after them, then struck off to the right, taking a short cut that would save him minutes. His head was pounding and his vision was blurred but he forced himself on. Marmion was at the mercy of a desperate man with no compunction about killing a police officer. He had to be rescued.

Niall Quinn stayed close behind his captive. When they reached the shade of a warehouse, he ordered Marmion to halt and put his arms out wide.

‘I don’t have a weapon,’ said Marmion.

‘I know that or you’d have drawn it on me when you had the chance. I’m not looking for a gun,’ said Niall, reaching inside the other’s coat. ‘I’m after this.’

With a deft flick of the wrist, he extracted Marmion’s wallet and slipped it into his own pocket. Then he nudged his prisoner forward with the point of his gun.

‘That’s very kind of you, Inspector. You not only lend me your car, you give me some money as well.’

‘You’re welcome to the money, Niall, but I would like the photographs inside it, please. They’re very important to me.’

‘You’re in no position to ask favours, Inspector, and I won’t grant you any.’

‘The photos are no use to you.’

‘Yes, they are – I’ll have fun burning them.’

Marmion struggled to prevent himself from turning round to confront him. Niall was heartless. Provoking him in any way could be a fatal mistake. As they reached the back of the warehouse, the car came
into view. There was enough light for Niall to see that the only person in it was the man behind the driving wheel.

‘Thank you for your help, Inspector. This is where we part company.’

Before he could reply, Marmion felt the gun crash down on the back of his head. It sent him into oblivion. Stepping over him, Niall went towards the car.

Keedy, however, had got there before him and was bent down on the other side of it. Having warned the driver what to expect, he’d armed himself with the starting handle. Niall limped across to the car and pointed the gun at the driver, jamming it against the glass. It was as far as he got. Keedy suddenly came round the car and flung his weapon at the hand holding the gun. It was knocked from Niall’s grasp and fell to the ground. The driver then swung his door open, hitting the Irishman with enough force to make him fall backwards. Keedy rushed forward to kick the gun out of reach then dropped onto Niall, punching away at face and body. Flailing away with both fists, Niall fought back with a real ferocity, spitting into his attacker’s face and trying to bite him. But he was no match for two trained police officers. When the driver came to Keedy’s assistance, they soon overpowered the Irishman, turning him over and snapping handcuffs onto his wrists. He writhed madly on the ground and turned the air blue with expletives.

‘Save it for the trial,’ said Keedy, lifting him by the scruff of the neck and pushing him against the car. ‘You can swear all you like then.’

Picking up the gun, he thrust it under his belt then hurried across to Marmion, who was starting to move slightly. He brought an unsteady hand to his head.

‘What happened?’ he asked.

‘We caught him,’ said Keedy, gasping for breath.

Though they both needed hospital treatment, the detectives insisted on driving back to Scotland Yard first to hand over the prisoner. Claude Chatfield was still there. Unsure whether to praise them for their success or upbraid them for straying away from the murder investigation, he took pity on them and said that a full report could wait until the next day. The priority was to have their wounds examined. Knowing that she’d still be up worrying about him, Marmion rang his wife to assure her that he wasn’t seriously injured but that a driver was on his way to pick her up. In the event, Ellen got to the hospital before they did. When her husband appeared, she rushed over to him and saw the gash on his head.

‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ she asked.

‘I’m fine, love,’ he replied, hugging her. ‘You can order a coffin for Joe but I’ll be back on my feet tomorrow.’

Realising that she’d ignored Keedy, she turned to embrace him as well. His head wound would also require stitches. Marmion sent him off to be seen to first, then sat down with Ellen.

‘I’m so glad that Alice didn’t see Joe like that,’ she said, anxiously. ‘It would really have upset her.’

‘She’s a policewoman. Alice knows that we have a spot of bother from time to time.’

‘It’s more than a spot of bother, Harvey. That man could have beaten your brains out.’

‘I’ve got a thick skull and so has Joe. Besides, we both had hats on.’

‘They didn’t stop you from being knocked out.’

‘Don’t remind me,’ he said, one hand to his head. ‘The pain only eases when I can forget about it. Just be thankful I’m safe and sound. It’s all over now.’

Ellen was distraught. ‘He had a gun – you could have been killed.’

‘But I wasn’t, love. What does that tell you?’

‘It tells me that you take too many chances.’

‘We couldn’t let him get away.’

‘Has the superintendent given you time off to recover?’

Marmion laughed. ‘Claude Chatfield wouldn’t give us time off if we’d been run over by a train. He’ll expect us back to work tomorrow on the dot.’

‘That’s cruel.’

‘It’s the way the Metropolitan Police works, Ellen, and you know it.’ He kissed her on the cheek. ‘Isn’t there something you’ve forgotten?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘A word of congratulation wouldn’t go amiss.’

‘I just feel terribly sorry for the pair of you.’

‘We’ve caught a dangerous criminal,’ he told her. ‘He was sent to this country to cause havoc by setting off bombs. Joe and I will get a big round of applause in the press for this – and there’ll be cheering in Frongoch as well.’

‘Is that the place you went to in Wales?’

‘Yes, love. The governor is going to be very pleased with us.’

‘Then I should congratulate you as well,’ she said. ‘Well done, Harvey.’

‘The real hero is Joe. He actually arrested Niall Quinn.’ Marmion winked at her. ‘Would you like to know why?’

‘Yes, I would.’

‘When he held a gun on me, Quinn took my wallet. Joe saw him do it. I bet that’s what incensed him. Joe must have known there was a lovely photo of Alice inside it,’ said Marmion. ‘Nobody was going to get away with that.’

Unconfirmed reports of sightings of Herbert Wylie had come in regularly. Claude Chatfield had collated them and dismissed those that were clearly of no use to him. Some were deliberately misleading, sent in by people who patently derived a thrill from causing mischief. He was still sifting through the latest batch when Harvey Marmion appeared in the open doorway. Chatfield glanced at him. For a man sometimes on the verge of looking scruffy, the inspector was noticeably smart for once. He saw the question in the superintendent’s eyes.

‘It’s my best suit, sir,’ he explained. ‘The one I had on yesterday got rather dirty. My wife refused to let me go out in it.’

‘That’s very commendable of her,’ said Chatfield, ‘but I wasn’t expecting you for another hour.’

Marmion held up some sheets of paper. ‘I had a report to write. You’ll want to know all the details of yesterday’s adventures.’ He handed the pages over. ‘It’s not fully accurate. I missed the actual arrest. Sergeant Keedy will tell you about that.’

‘How are you now?’

‘I’m feeling much better, sir.’

‘No permanent damage, I hope?’

‘When the stitches are taken out, I’ll be as right as rain.’

‘The commissioner is going to be singing your praises.’

‘I’m always glad to get plaudits from Sir Edward.’

‘Well, don’t rest on your laurels,’ said Chatfield, becoming businesslike. ‘There’s still a murder investigation to be resolved. Don’t expect an ovation from me until it’s all over and done with.’

‘Is there any more news about Wylie?’

‘There’s far too much. The British public seems to have invented a new game. The object is to befuddle us by making false claims.’

‘That’s an indictable offence,’ said Marmion, ‘as our friend in Rochester found out. Did you ever discover his real name?’

‘Forget him. The real Herbert Wylie is still at large. If I hear anything reliable, I’ll phone the information through to you. Make sure that you check your calls at regular intervals.’

‘I will, sir.’

‘Where will you begin today?’

‘At the place where we left off yesterday,’ said Marmion, ‘and that’s the Quinn house. They’ll want to know what happened to Niall and whether or not they’ll be prosecuted. You’ll see from my report that I recommend leniency. They didn’t invite him there and he had no intention of going into the house when he returned there. All he was after was the gun he’d hidden.’

‘Nevertheless, he was on the premises when you called there.’

‘That was a coincidence.’

‘They gave sanctuary to a man on the run.’

‘That’s not quite what happened, Superintendent.’

Chatfield sniffed. ‘I’ll make my own judgement about that when I’ve read your report.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Marmion. ‘You’ll notice that I’ve given our chauffeur a special mention. While I was still seeing stars, he was assisting in the arrest of an armed man. He and the sergeant should be singled out for their bravery.’

‘And so should you,’ said the other, grudgingly. ‘Has the sergeant arrived yet?’

‘Yes, sir, he was here before me. Sergeant Keedy is very resilient.’

‘That’s something we must all strive to be. Is he waiting in your office?’

‘No,’ replied Marmion, ‘I believe he had someone to see.’

Alice Marmion was shocked to learn of the injuries to her father and to Joe Keedy. When the sergeant met her outside Scotland Yard, he explained how the bruising on his face had got there and how he and the inspector had finished up in hospital. She scolded him for not sending for her but he told her that he didn’t want to disturb her at that time of night and that her mother had been able to supply enough succour for both of them. Alice insisted on seeing the head wound and there was a sharp intake of breath when she saw the stitches.

‘They won’t stay in for long,’ said Keedy, replacing his hat.

‘You shouldn’t have tackled an armed man, Joe.’

‘What were we supposed to do – buy him a train ticket and wave him off?’

‘I’m serious. You might have got hurt.’

He indicated his head. ‘I
was
hurt, Alice. But my pride would have suffered far more if we’d let him escape. I’ve been cursing Chat for sending us all the way to Merionethshire but it seems worthwhile now.
We caught the man who escaped from there even though it wasn’t really our job.’

‘How’s my father?’

‘You can ask him yourself. He’ll be out in a moment.’

‘Over the years, he’s had so many injuries on duty.’

‘They haven’t deterred him, Alice – or me, for that matter.’

She hugged him impulsively and he pulled her close. They were still entwined when Inspector Gale marched up. She cleared her throat to indicate displeasure and the two of them stood apart.

‘I warned you when you first joined,’ she said, oozing disapproval. ‘I don’t allow fraternisation with male officers. It’s unprofessional behaviour.’

‘Sergeant Keedy and I are engaged,’ Alice reminded her.

‘Not when you’re on duty. Domestic matters are irrelevant then.’

‘That’s a matter of opinion, Inspector.’

Gale’s eyes blazed. ‘Do you dare to criticise me?’

‘Of course not,’ said Keedy, acting as a conciliator. ‘Alice understands that the job takes precedence. It’s a lesson she’s learnt from her father.’

‘Well, she still has several other lessons to learn,’ said the older woman, tartly, ‘when she can spare the time to learn them, that is.’

On that sarcastic note, Thelma Gale headed for the door and went into the building. Alice tried to suppress her irritation. Keedy stepped in to lift her chin up with a finger so that he could kiss her on the lips.

‘If that’s unprofessional behaviour,’ he said with a wicked grin, ‘then I have to say that I’m all in favour of it.’

The events of the previous evening had left the Quinn family in disarray. Diane feared that they’d all be arrested, Maureen blamed herself for letting her cousin into the house and Lily was chastised by her father for
raising the alarm and alerting the detectives. Eamonn Quinn himself swung between bravado and apprehension, boasting that he’d defy any attempts by the police to arrest him, then sharing in the general unease. When he went off to work, he warned them once again to say as little as possible to Marmion and Keedy.

Left alone together, the female members of the household began to speculate.

‘What do you think happened to Niall?’ asked Lily.

‘I’m sure they’ll tell us,’ said her mother.

‘Well, I hope that he got away.’

‘I don’t,’ said Maureen.

‘He’s our cousin. You don’t want him caught, do you?’

‘I don’t like the idea of him being on the loose with that gun, Lily. Somebody could easily get killed. Besides,’ Maureen went on, ‘if they did arrest him, it could help us. Niall could tell them that we weren’t really hiding him at all.’

‘Daddy would have let him stay here all night, if need be.’

‘There’s no point in going on about it until we know what’s happened,’ said Diane. ‘Inspector Marmion and Sergeant Keedy have got to know us quite well by now. They’ll realise that we wouldn’t willingly break the law.’

‘Daddy did,’ Lily piped up.

‘That’s different.’

‘He got himself banned from that pub.’

‘Be quiet, Lily. You don’t know anything about it.’

‘Yes, I do. The girls at school told me about him being arrested.’

‘That’s all in the past,’ said Diane with a gesture to indicate that the discussion was over. ‘What are you going to do today, Maureen?’

‘I thought I might go to church,’ she replied.

‘Do you want to see Father Cleary again?’

‘In time, perhaps – I just want to be somewhere where I can sit and think.’

‘Lily and I might come with you.’

‘But Daddy doesn’t like us going to church,’ said Lily.

‘He doesn’t have to know, does he?’ asked Diane, giving each of them a stern look. ‘Since Maureen survived that explosion, we have a lot to be thankful for. It’s high time we got down on our knees to pray.’

June Ingles had spent so many years letting her husband pay all the bills and make all the decisions that she never dared to challenge his authority. It suited her to accept his domination because she was also cosseted most of the time. She was permitted an occasional whinge but it rarely went beyond that. As she watched him that morning, however, she saw that he was a changed man and decided that it was perhaps the moment that she underwent a transformation herself. Lost in thought, Ingles was walking up and down the living room. She planted herself in front of him.

‘This has gone far enough, Brian,’ she said, firmly.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘I’m talking about the state you’re in, of course.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with me.’

‘Yes, there is. Ever since you took that phone call yesterday, you’ve been in the most peculiar mood. You wouldn’t even tell me who rang you.’

‘It’s none of your business, that’s why,’ he snapped.

‘Was it the police? Was it someone at work?’ When he turned away from her, she walked around to face him once more. ‘We never used to have secrets. Why start now?’ He avoided her gaze. ‘We’re in the middle of a crisis, Brian. We’ve simply got to stick together.’

‘I know,’ he mumbled.

‘So who was it on the phone?’

‘It was … a friend of mine.’

‘Is it someone I know?’

‘No, June,’ he said, evasively. ‘He’s more of an acquaintance than a friend. He just gave me some useful information, that’s all.’

‘What about?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Will you please stop lying to me,’ she begged. ‘I’ve lived with you long enough to know when something’s getting you down. You look hunted and in pain. What on earth did this acquaintance of yours tell you?’

‘I’d rather not go into it.’

‘Is it something to do with your job?’

‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘yes, it is. I don’t want to bother you with the details, June. It’s all rather petty, to be honest.’ He dredged up an unconvincing smile. ‘As for being hunted, nothing could be further from the truth.’

‘It’s all part of a pattern,’ said his wife, trying to work it out in her head, ‘and it started before Florrie was killed. You were more tetchy than usual and you stayed out later. Also, you began to drink more. I assumed that you’d had a bad time at work. Then came the news about Florrie and I thought you were going to have a heart attack. The next minute, you were talking about selling our home.’

‘That may still be on the agenda.’

‘But you said that we could stay here,’ she protested.

‘I said that it was a possibility.’

‘You were even ready to talk about new curtains.’

‘Well, you might as well forget about those,’ he said with controlled fury, ‘because we’re not going to buy them. I have things to sort out,
June. Is it too much to ask that I can be left alone without having you breathing down my neck all the time? Stop being such a confounded nuisance, woman!’

June was aghast. They’d had their disagreements before and warm words had been exchanged but she’d never been put down with such venom and it was humiliating. All she could do was to stand there and stare at him open-mouthed. Overcome with guilt at his outburst, he hung his head. The telephone rang and he stiffened visibly.

‘Do you want me to answer that?’ she asked.

‘No,’ he grunted. ‘Stay here.’

Going out of the room, he closed the door firmly behind him.

Before they could leave for church, they saw the car pull up outside. When they let the detectives into the house, they demanded to know what had happened to Niall. Tense and frightened, all three talked excitedly at once. After calming them down, Marmion told them that he’d been caught and arrested. No decision had yet been made on whether or not they’d be prosecuted but he had recommended sympathy for their predicament. Lily was sent up to her room so that the visitors could talk alone with Maureen and her mother. Both of them gasped when Keedy removed his hat to reveal the stitches in his head wound. Marmion’s wound was also clearly visible but he forbore to tell them how the injuries had been acquired. He wanted to concentrate on the investigation into the explosion. Diane was ready with a question.

‘Why were you asking about Florrie’s private life?’ she said. ‘I don’t see that it has anything to do with the case.’

‘We have to explore every avenue, Mrs Quinn,’ he told her, ‘and this is a valid one. If Florrie really
was
pregnant, the man involved may have been very upset by the news.’

‘He could equally well have been pleased, Inspector.’

‘I don’t think so. We have evidence to suggest that she’d been let down by whoever it was. Why did she hold that party in the first place? If she was in love with a man, he was the obvious person with whom she’d have celebrated the birthday.’

Keedy looked at Maureen. ‘You told us that she was very happy when you got to that outhouse,’ he recalled, ‘but that she began to drink as soon as you arrived. Was she maudlin in any way?’

‘Well …’ said Maureen, uncertainly.

‘Was she tearful, sentimental or full of remorse about something?’

‘I didn’t really stay long enough to find out.’

‘Wait a moment,’ said Diane in disbelief. ‘Are you saying that this man might have planted the bomb? I thought you already knew who did that.’

‘We believe we know,’ said Marmion, ‘but this other man is of interest to us as well. That’s why we need Maureen’s help. Yesterday,’ he went on, ‘we were interrupted at a crucial point. I asked you if Agnes Collier had ever described this friend of Florrie’s to you.’

Maureen nodded. ‘She told me a little bit about him, Inspector.’

‘And?’

‘Well, she only saw them together that once. It was an evening when I’d stayed behind for a meeting of the football team. Agnes wasn’t in that, so she went home on her own for once. I remember her telling me that she was making her way to the railway station when this car pulled up at a junction.’ Maureen shrugged. ‘She saw Florrie in the front seat beside the driver. He was an older man.’

‘It could have been her father,’ said Diane.

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