Danger of Defeat E-Book

Edward Marston

• Herausgeber: Allison & Busby
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Serie: Home Front Detective
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 416

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

London, February 1918. A burglary in Limehouse in the small hours of the morning has escalated into a sinister siege between a band of thieves and the authorities, and a police constable lies dead. Detective Inspector Harvey Marmion and Detective Sergeant Joe Keedy hasten to the scene where attempts at talking the men into surrendering have been met with stony silence. When the door is eventually battered down, Keedy bravely leads the way in. Then a gunshot is heard: Keedy has been hit. While his partner is rushed to hospital, Marmion is on the trail of the burglars. Keedy, however, remains in the sights of the murderous thieves and the clock is ticking as Marmion delves into the secrets that lie behind this fatal incident...

Leseprobe

PRAISE FOR EDWARD MARSTON

‘A master storyteller’

Daily Mail

‘Packed with characters Dickens would have been proud of. Wonderful [and] well-written’

Time Out

‘Once again Marston has created a credible atmosphere within an intriguing story’

Sunday Telegraph

‘Filled with period detail, the pace is steady and the plot is thick with suspects, solutions and clues. Marston has a real knack for blending detail, character and story with great skill’

Historical Novels Review

‘The past is brought to life with brilliant colours, combined with a perfect whodunnit. Who needs more?’

The Guardian

Danger of Defeat

Edward Marston

In fond memory of my grandfathers,both of whom fought in the Great War as young menand who were profoundly changed by the experience

CONTENTS

TITLE PAGEDEDICATIONCHAPTER ONECHAPTER TWOCHAPTER THREECHAPTER FOURCHAPTER FIVECHAPTER SIXCHAPTER SEVENCHAPTER EIGHTCHAPTER NINECHAPTER TENCHAPTER ELEVENCHAPTER TWELVECHAPTER THIRTEENCHAPTER FOURTEENCHAPTER FIFTEENCHAPTER SIXTEENCHAPTER SEVENTEENCHAPTER EIGHTEENCHAPTER NINETEENCHAPTER TWENTYCHAPTER TWENTY-ONECHAPTER TWENTY-TWOABOUT THE AUTHORBY EDWARD MARSTONCOPYRIGHT

CHAPTER ONE

February, 1918

When the telephone rang in the middle of the night, Harvey Marmion was immediately awake. He jumped out of bed, shivered in the cold, grabbed a dressing gown, then pulled it on as he hurried downstairs to pick up the receiver in the hall. Superintendent Claude Chatfield barked orders into his ear. Marmion barely got a word in. When the line went dead, he ran upstairs, dressed quickly and quietly, then left his wife still sleeping soundly in bed. Ellen would understand. An absent husband meant that there was an emergency. Living with a detective inspector had made her accustomed to his sudden disappearances. Marmion was effectively on duty around the clock.

While he waited for the police car to arrive, he tried to process the information that Chatfield had given him. There had been an incident somewhere in Limehouse. A policeman had been shot. Marmion knew the area well. When he had first joined the Metropolitan Police Force, he had pounded the streets of Poplar and Limehouse. Memories of that period in his life flooded back into his mind – bad memories for the most part. It had been hard, unremitting, often dangerous work but he had come to see that it was a good apprenticeship for him. Going back there, however, was bound to generate mixed feelings.

When the police car picked him up, it was driven to the house where Joe Keedy now lived. Marmion used the knocker to rap out a summons. The sergeant responded at once, leaping out of bed, dressing at speed, then tumbling out of the front door before diving into the back seat of the car beside Marmion. The vehicle drove off. Keedy was angry.

‘I hope there’s a bloody good reason to get us up this early,’ he said.

‘There’s the best reason possible, Joe. A police constable has been shot dead.’

‘Oh, I see. That’s different.’

‘He and his partner disturbed burglars in Limehouse.’

‘Did they get away?’

‘No,’ said Marmion. ‘They were tracked to their house. You ought to be grateful to Chat for calling on us. It sounds serious. In any case,’ he joked, ‘what could be nicer than hearing the superintendent’s voice at four in the morning? It was music to my ears.’

Keedy stifled a response. He could think of something far more satisfying to do at that hour of the night, but it involved Marmion’s daughter, Alice, to whom he was engaged. What would be typical police banter with any other colleague was impossible with his future father-in-law.

‘Why did the superintendent pick on us?’

‘We’ve got form, Joe. Don’t you remember that you once persuaded a man not to commit suicide by jumping into the Thames?’

‘That was ages ago.’

‘And I once stopped a drunken husband from slitting his wife’s neck when she dared to argue with him. I simply talked to him quietly until he eventually dropped the knife and burst into tears. Unfortunately,’ said Marmion, ruefully, ‘it doesn’t always end so happily.’

‘More’s the pity!’

‘Something tells me that we’re facing a much bigger crisis this time.’

Keedy closed his eyes. ‘Wake me up when we get there.’

Superintendent Chatfield had reacted to the situation with speed and efficiency. He arrived at the scene to find dozens of uniformed policemen watching a small, terraced house from a safe distance. Inside, he was told, were the three suspects. One of them, at least, possessed a gun and had already shown his readiness to use it. Chatfield had no wish to see another policeman killed so he proceeded with caution. Men had already been deployed to the rear of the house in case the burglars tried to escape that way. He checked on them to see if they had spotted any movement inside or outside the house. Chatfield then returned to the front of the house with his megaphone. Before he could use it to begin negotiations, however, he saw a police car turn into the street and come to a halt. Marmion and Keedy jumped out and ran across to him. Chatfield was glad to see the detectives.

‘Three men are holed up in that house,’ he told them, pointing a finger. ‘I’m hoping to persuade them to come out, but they may have other ideas.’

‘Blimey!’ exclaimed Keedy, looking around. ‘You’ve got plenty of manpower here, sir. It’s like the Siege of Sidney Street.’

Chatfield shook his head. ‘It’s not a bit like it, Sergeant,’ he argued. ‘In that instance, there was a huge police presence, bolstered by officers from the City of London Police and sharpshooters from the Scots Guards. Also, it was three years before the war broke out, so it was easy to rustle up reinforcements. We can’t do that now.’

‘There’s another difference, sir,’ observed Marmion, looking up and down the dark street. ‘Most people are still asleep in their beds. The sound of gunfire in Sidney Street brought everyone out of their houses. The police had a job to control the crowds.’

‘I’m hoping for a peaceful solution,’ said Chatfield. ‘I’ll try to lure them out.’

‘Do we have any idea who they are?’

‘We have a name for one of them. According to a next-door neighbour, he’s Dan Haskins. He rented the house a month or so ago and, apparently, gets on well with everyone. He told the neighbour that he works as a nightwatchman in a factory in Ben Jonson Road.’ Chatfield rolled his eyes. ‘In fact, as we’ve now discovered, he’s a burglar and so are his associates. That’s the other difference between this situation and the one in Sidney Street,’ he went on. ‘In the latter case, we were up against a murderous gang of Latvians. At least the burglars inside this house will understand English.’ He raised the megaphone. ‘It’s time to have a conversation with them.’

When Alice Marmion came downstairs, wiping the sleep from her eyes, her mother had been up for some time. Ellen had lit a fire in the living room and was now making tea in the kitchen. She was pleased that her daughter had spent the night at home for a change. Ordinarily, Alice lived in a rented room several miles away.

‘I’m sorry if the noise woke you up,’ said Ellen.

‘What noise?’

‘The telephone rang.’

‘I didn’t hear it.’

‘You must have heard the police car screeching to a halt outside. That’s what brought me awake. I expect there’s been an emergency of some sort. Your father had to charge off somewhere.’

‘I was fast asleep, Mummy. Never heard a thing. I know that being in the Women’s Police Force can’t compare with what Daddy and Joe do, but spending all day on your feet is very tiring. I was really exhausted last night.’

‘You’ll have to get used to this, Alice.’

‘Used to what?’

‘Waking up and finding there’s nobody in the bed beside you.’

‘I see what you mean.’

‘When you and Joe are married, he’s going to be hauled out in the middle of the night from time to time.’

Alice sighed. ‘I suppose that it’s the price I pay for having a husband who is a Scotland Yard detective. Ah well,’ she added with a smile. ‘There are compensations.’

Crouching in the doorway of a nearby house, megaphone in hand, Chatfield tried to persuade the burglars that there was no escape. Armed policemen stood ready to storm the building, but the superintendent hoped that it would not be necessary. He had persuaded criminals once before that they had no option but surrender. This time, however, his words were having no visible effect. Not a single sound came from the house where Dan Haskins lived.

‘Perhaps they’ve hopped it, sir,’ suggested Marmion.

‘Impossible,’ said Chatfield, tetchily. ‘We’ve got the place surrounded.’

‘Are you quite sure that someone is inside it?’

‘Of course, I am.’

‘Have you seen anyone at the window, sir?’ asked Keedy.

‘No,’ admitted Chatfield, ‘but they were spotted entering the building. A light was switched on in the front bedroom. It went off soon after I arrived. They can hear me perfectly well. Why don’t they answer me?’

‘They must have sneaked off somehow, sir,’ said Keedy.

‘They’re still there, Sergeant. I’d stake my pension on it.’

‘Then what do we do?’

‘We bide our time and make them sweat,’ replied Chatfield. ‘When they least expect it, we’ll batter the door down and catch them napping.’

‘Can I go with them?’ volunteered Keedy, excited by the prospect.

‘You’ve no means of defending yourself.’

‘I’ll have the advantage of surprise.’

‘Leave it to those with firearms,’ advised Marmion.

‘I don’t want to miss all the fun,’ complained Keedy. ‘I’ll take a gun, if you insist. I’ve been trained to use one. The superintendent tried to persuade them to come out and they ignored him. Brute force is the only answer.’

‘It’s too dangerous, Joe.’

‘You know me. I never run away from danger.’

‘Then that’s settled,’ decided Chatfield. ‘After ten minutes, the door will be smashed open, then in you go.’

He summoned two burly policemen, each holding a shotgun. While the superintendent gave them their orders, Marmion was trying to persuade Keedy to reconsider. The last thing he wanted was for his future son-in-law to take such a risk. His words went unheard. Keedy was poised for action. Nothing would stop him. When he was offered a bulldog revolver, he checked to see that it was loaded. Keedy felt invincible. Ten minutes ticked past, then he and the two policemen braced themselves. On a command from the superintendent, the three of them crept forward. One of the policemen used the butt of his shotgun to batter the door open, then Keedy led the way inside.

A gunshot was heard and Keedy howled in pain. Marmion gasped in horror.

After breakfast with her mother, Alice Marmion was about to leave the house and go to work when the telephone rang. Ellen lifted the receiver and spoke into it. Pleased to hear her husband’s voice, she was soon aghast. Alice could see that she was hearing dreadful news. As soon as the call was over, Ellen put down the receiver with a trembling hand.

‘What’s happened, Mummy?’ cried Alice.

‘It’s Joe …’

‘What about him?

‘He’s been shot and rushed to hospital.’

Alice shuddered. She felt as if her whole future was suddenly in doubt.

CHAPTER TWO

Everything happened so quickly. As soon as the three of them rushed into the house, Keedy had been stopped in his tracks by a bullet. It had been fired by a man at the top of the stairs. Before the two policemen could return fire, the burglar had fled the scene. They were torn between pursuing him and helping Keedy to safety. In the event, it was Marmion who came to his friend’s aid. Rushing into the house, he saw Keedy at the bottom of the stairs, lying on his back and groaning in agony. Marmion then became aware of flames crackling in the living room and threatening to spread into the hallway. To confuse the police and cover their escape, the burglars had set the house alight. Getting Keedy out of the building was now of paramount importance. Marmion tried to move him as gently as he could, but he was inflicting more pain on the sergeant. Chatfield stepped in to lend a hand and the two of them eased Keedy out into the street.

A fire had also been lit upstairs so there was no possibility of chasing the occupants of the house. It seemed impossible for them to escape. Did they prefer to be burnt alive than hanged for murder? He looked down at Marmion who was trying to comfort Keedy and stem the bleeding from his wound.

The sound of gunfire had awakened the whole street. It was suddenly filled with anxious people, desperate to know what was going on. Those who lived close to the burning house feared that their homes would soon be engulfed in flames. Panic set in and they demanded action from the police. Chatfield’s attempts at reassuring them fell on deaf ears. Inhabitants of nearby streets came out to swell the numbers. Controlling the baying mob was impossible. It was not long before the clang of fire engines and the noise of an ambulance added to the cacophony. The whole street was in uproar.

Finding a taxi at that time of night was virtually impossible so Ellen Marmion had to try another way to reach the hospital. She and Alice ran to the grocer’s shop and banged on the door. The bald head of Geoffrey Biddle soon appeared through an upstairs window that suddenly opened.

‘We don’t open until eight o’clock,’ he snarled.

‘It’s an emergency,’ cried Ellen. ‘We have to get to Mile End Hospital.’

Biddle’s tone changed at once. ‘Is that you, Mrs Marmion?’

‘Yes – we need a lift. We’re so sorry to call on you like this, but I can’t think of any other way. My daughter’s fiancé has been shot. They’ve rushed him to hospital.’

‘Say no more. I’ll come at once.’

Ellen and Alice stood beside the van parked outside the shop. Geoffrey Biddle’s name was painted on the side of it with the claim that he was a Purveyor of Fine Groceries. To the two women, he was something else at that moment. Biddle was a blessing. They were overwhelmed with gratitude. When he came out of the side door of the house, the grocer, a tall, skinny, red-faced man in his fifties, was wearing pyjamas, dressing gown and slippers. As he unlocked the doors of his van, he apologised that one of them would have to travel in the rear with a collection of empty cardboard boxes. Alice was a willing volunteer.

‘I don’t mind doing that,’ she said. When it had been unlocked, she clambered in through the rear door of the van.

‘We’re so grateful to you,’ said Ellen.

‘Tell me what happened when we’re on the way, Mrs Marmion,’ said Biddle. ‘In a situation like this, I’m glad to help you.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Yes,’ added Alice. ‘Thank you, Mr Biddle.’

‘Get in and don’t apologise. You did the right thing.’

The van was soon shooting away from the kerb.

Mile End Hospital had been built in 1859 as the infirmary for the local workhouse. It was rebuilt some thirty years later and a training school for nurses was added in 1892. Constructed with Victorian solidity, it had an essentially functional air. After the outbreak of war, it had been converted into a military hospital to cope with the constant supply of wounded soldiers brought home from the battlefields. Ambulances arrived there day and night.

Harvey Marmion was pacing up and down in the waiting room, blaming himself for allowing Keedy to go into a place of danger. While he admired the sergeant’s courage, he wished that it had been tempered by discretion, but that would be asking for the impossible. There was a daredevil streak in Keedy that had made him such a fearless detective. His luck had finally run out.

Marmion was still praying that Keedy was out of danger when his wife and daughter were shown into the waiting room. As they ran to him, he put a consoling arm around each of them. Questions poured out of the women.

‘What exactly happened to Joe?’ asked Alice.

‘How badly is he wounded?’ said Ellen.

‘Is he in danger?’

‘What have the doctors said?’

‘Tell us, Daddy,’ pleaded Alice.

After calming them, he took them across to a row of chairs and made them sit down.

‘They think that Joe will pull through,’ he told them.

‘Thank God!’ exclaimed Alice, eyes filling with tears.

‘But he’s going to be out of action for a while – a long while, possibly.’

‘Why bring him here?’ asked Ellen.

‘This was the nearest hospital. He may not be a soldier, but he was wounded while fighting in another war, the one against crime. They were happy to accept him. By the time we got here, Joe had lost a lot of blood. He’s in the operating theatre right now. I daresay they’ll need to remove the bullet first.’ Marmion forced a smile. ‘Don’t fear the worst. Joe is a fighter. He’ll come through this.’

Alice exchanged a look with her mother. They were both quietly terrified.

Keedy lay on the operating table, subdued by an anaesthetic that had removed the pain instantly. The bullet had hit him in the stomach, but the surgeons had yet to establish the full extent of his injuries. One thing was in his favour. He was an unusually fit, strong young man. Also, his limbs were still attached to his body. To surgeons who routinely operated on men with missing arms or legs, it was a welcome change. They knew that Keedy had been injured while trying to arrest one of the burglars involved in the murder of a policeman. Their patient was a hero.

‘Mr Biddle?’ said Marmion in surprise. ‘You came here in the grocer’s van?’

‘It was Mummy’s idea,’ explained Alice. ‘I’d never have thought of asking him.’

‘We’ve been customers there for donkey’s years,’ said Ellen. ‘I felt that he was bound to help us in an emergency – and he did. Even if it meant that Alice had to spend the journey rolling around in the back of the van.’

‘I didn’t mind that, Mummy. It was transport. That’s all that matters.’

‘Where is Mr Biddle now?’ asked Marmion. ‘Is he waiting outside?’

‘No,’ said Ellen. ‘I sent him back home. He has a shop to open. I hoped that we might have a lift back from a police car. You can arrange that, can’t you?’

‘I’ll do my best. We only have a limited supply of vehicles at our disposal, or I’d have sent one to pick you both up.’

‘I’m not going anywhere until I’ve seen Joe,’ said Alice, firmly. ‘I don’t care how long I need to wait. My place is here. Joe would expect it.’

Ellen nodded. ‘And quite rightly.’

Before he could make a comment, Marmion noticed that Claude Chatfield was hovering outside the door. He excused himself and left the room.

‘I blame the superintendent,’ said Ellen. ‘He should never have allowed Joe to go into a house when there was an armed man inside.’

‘Knowing Joe, I fancy that he insisted on going in.’

‘You may be right, Alice.’

‘He’d never turn his back on a challenge. It worries me sometimes.’

‘Yes,’ said Ellen, face puckering with anxiety. ‘Joe Keedy is far too brave for his own good.’

Unaware of what was happening, Keedy was in a world of his own. He didn’t feel the tweezers that were carefully inserted into the wound to extract the bullet or hear the sharp clink as it was dropped into a metal dish.

The two of them had withdrawn to a quiet corner of the entrance hall. When Marmion had given Chatfield the latest news about Keedy, the superintendent told him what had happened back in Limehouse. He spoke through gritted teeth.

‘They got away,’ he admitted.

‘How?’ asked Marmion in amazement. ‘The house was on fire. When the flames were finally doused, I thought that you’d find three charred bodies.’

‘You underestimate them. Dan Haskins – or whatever his real name was – had not been idle. During the time he and his accomplices were staying there, they went up into the attic and carefully removed some of the slates. The gap was covered by a tarpaulin. That was their emergency exit. When they realised that they had to get out of there quickly, they went through the hole, climbed along the roof to the end house and attached a rope to its chimney. While the rest of us were watching the fire blaze away, Haskins and his two friends were shinning down that rope in turns before making a run for it.’

‘The cunning blighters!’

‘Worst of all,’ said Chatfield, ‘they escaped with a substantial haul.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘We’ve had a spate of burgled jewellery shops in the East End. The modus operandi is always the same. Someone saws through the grille on the front window and removes it. They cut out a pane of glass big enough to allow them to climb in. While one of them empties the cheaper items in the window display, the others open the safe and snaffle the expensive stuff. Last night,’ Chatfield went on, ‘they were disturbed. As a result, we have a dead policeman, a wounded detective and a house burnt to a cinder. We’ll also have the press tearing us to pieces for failing to catch any of them. All in all, it was a disaster.’

‘These men were professionals, sir.’

‘Yes, and they made us look like rank amateurs.’

‘Haskins did say that he worked at night. Now we know what he was really doing.’

‘I want them,’ growled Chatfield. ‘This case takes priority from now on. I want all three of those devils caught and trussed up like Christmas turkeys. You can have as many officers as you need. Catch them – and do it soon!’

‘I’ll do my best, sir.’

‘The search starts right now.’

‘It started the moment one of them shot Sergeant Keedy. God willing, he may survive, but I owe it to him to spend every waking hour on the trail of those men. They’re more than criminals to me,’ said Marmion, grimly. ‘I’ll find them. It’s a promise.’

CHAPTER THREE

Left alone in the waiting room, Ellen and Alice began to realise the full implications of what had happened. As a result of being shot, Joe Keedy – even if he survived – might be a permanent invalid, unable to continue as a detective or to take on any other job. Only weeks earlier, he and Alice had finally chosen a house where they could begin married life together. It was small, dowdy, and needed a lot doing to it, but they could see its possibilities. They were thrilled when given the key and undaunted when they made a list of the more immediate repairs necessary. In the time that Keedy had been living there alone, he had already made improvements, working feverishly whenever he could snatch a free hour or two.

‘How much will Joe be able to do now?’ asked Ellen, worriedly.

‘There’s another problem, Mummy,’ said her daughter. ‘How can we afford the rent if he is forced to give up his job? I’ll have to go back to teaching. I’d hate that.’

‘But you used to love the work, Alice.’

‘That was before the war. Things are different now. It would take me away from home all day. Who would look after Joe while I was at school?’

‘I could help.’

‘I’d feel so guilty if that happened. I’ll be Joe’s wife. It’s my duty.’

‘You’re not getting married until June,’ Ellen reminded her. ‘Until then, it would be wrong for you to share the house with him. What would people say?’

‘We’ll have to change the date of the wedding, Mummy. I’m determined to do that. I want to marry Joe as soon as I can,’ she insisted. ‘I’ve waited long enough to become his wife and I’m not waiting any longer. I’ll speak to the vicar as soon as I can and arrange another date.’

‘Won’t you have to discuss it with Joe first?’

‘He’ll agree with me.’

‘You sound very certain of that.’

‘I am, Mummy. What worries me is who will look after him meanwhile.’

‘They’re bound to keep him in hospital for a time. Every bed here is needed for wounded soldiers so he may not be able to stay long. I’ll see if your father can get Joe transferred somewhere much nearer to us.’

‘That would be wonderful.’

Ellen heaved a sigh. ‘Oh dear! What a dreadful night this has been!’

‘It could have been worse.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Mr Biddle might have refused to give us a lift in the middle of the night. What would we have done if that had happened?’

‘We’d have walked all the way here,’ said Ellen, thrusting out her chin.

‘It would have taken us ages.’

‘It doesn’t matter. We’d have done it gladly.’

‘Yes,’ said Alice, embracing her warmly. ‘We would.’

Iris Goodliffe had arrived early for her daily shift in the Women’s Police Force. As she chatted with her colleagues about how cold it was, she kept wondering where her beat partner could be. Alice Marmion was usually the first person there, her uniform immaculate and her sense of purpose evident. None of the other constables was as efficient or as committed as Alice. She set the standard for everyone. Iris was grateful to be able to spend so much time with her. That morning, however, there was no sign of her friend. She was still looking around in dismay when she heard a sharp voice behind her.

‘You’ll be on duty with Constable Porter today,’ announced Inspector Gale.

‘Where’s Alice?’ asked Iris, spinning around.

‘I’ve no idea and no time to speculate on why she is not here. What I can tell you is that she will receive a stern reproof when she does finally deign to appear.’

‘Only something serious would keep her away. I’m worried.’

‘Control your anxiety and find Constable Porter. She is still relatively new and needs someone who knows the ropes as well as you do.’

‘Yes, Inspector – if you say so.’

‘I do say so,’ rasped the other.

Like all the other women, Iris was afraid of Thelma Gale, a cold, humourless martinet who treated those beneath her so bossily that she had earned the nickname of Gale Force. It was important to get away from the inspector before she was roused. Foolishly, Iris lingered.

‘There’s five minutes to go,’ she pointed out. ‘Alice might still turn up.’

‘Can’t you obey an order?’ snapped Gale.

‘Well, yes but—’

‘Get on with it, woman!’

‘I’m sorry, Inspector. I will … Excuse me. I’ll find Jessica at once.’

And she fled as quickly as she could.

When he came back into the waiting room, Marmion found that his wife was alone. He was glad to have a quiet moment with Ellen.

‘How is Alice coping?’ he asked.

‘She’s doing her best,’ replied Ellen, ‘but the news has been shattering. She’s worried to death – so am I, for that matter. It seems so unfair, Harvey. They’re a young couple on the verge of getting married and this happens.’

‘It’s a risk that every policeman must take, love. Joe knew that when he joined the Met.’

‘Alice was ready to accept that risk – the same way that I did.’

‘I’ve been lucky. So has Joe – until today. Anyway,’ he added, ‘I’ll have to go back to Scotland Yard with the superintendent now. I did ask about transport for you both and he was happy to provide it. All you need to do is to contact me at the Yard when you need a car.’

‘It may not be for some time. Alice won’t leave until she has definite news about Joe.’

‘What about her job?’

‘She’s forgotten all about that. There’s only one thing on her mind.’

‘Inspector Gale needs to be told what’s happened. I’ll take care of that. I don’t want her thinking that Alice has let her down deliberately.’ He saw his daughter approaching him. ‘I was just telling your mother that I’ll get in touch with Inspector Gale.’

‘Oh, my God!’ exclaimed Alice. ‘I’d forgotten all about her.’

‘She certainly won’t have forgotten about you.’

‘Gale Force will be livid with me.’

‘That’s because she doesn’t know that you’re here,’ said Marmion. ‘I’ll explain it to her and smooth her ruffled feathers at the same time.’

‘Thank you, Daddy!’

‘I must be off.’

After giving both women a farewell kiss, he went swiftly out of the room.

Alice was anxious. ‘Did you ask about a lift home?’

‘Your father will arrange it. All I need to do is to ring him when we’re ready.’

‘The car is for your benefit, Mummy. I’m not moving from here until I’ve talked to one of the surgeons and seen Joe with my own eyes.’

‘That may not be allowed.’

Alice folded her arms. ‘Then I’ll stay here until it is.’

Thelma Gale was both angry and mystified by Alice’s failure to turn up that morning. The two of them had had clashes in the past but she still believed that Alice was the best policewoman under her command. When she looked through her records, she could find ample evidence of that. To some extent, she accepted, Alice had distinct advantages. As the daughter of a detective inspector and the future wife of a detective sergeant, she was steeped in the processes of crime prevention. Whenever she had given lectures to those at her command, Thelma Gale knew that the most intelligent questions would always come from Alice Marmion. It did not excuse her absence that morning. When she did finally arrive, she would get a roasting from her superior.

The inspector was still thinking about the encounter when the telephone on her desk rang. She snatched the receiver up and gave the caller a curt welcome.

‘Inspector Gale here,’ she snapped. ‘Who is it?’

‘Detective Inspector Marmion,’ came the reply. ‘I have an apology to make.’

She was flustered. ‘I’m the one to make an apology,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry to be so brusque with you.’

‘I didn’t notice.’

‘Oh … I see.’

‘I just wanted to explain why my daughter was unable to turn up this morning,’ he said. ‘Sergeant Keedy and I were called out in the middle of the night to arrest some burglars who had shot dead a policeman. They’d taken refuge in a house in the East End. When it was stormed, the sergeant led the charge inside. His bravery was his undoing, I’m afraid. He was shot.’

‘Goodness!’ she cried. ‘Was he killed?’

‘No, but he was seriously injured and rushed to Mile End Military Hospital. My wife and daughter are still there. It’s the reason that Alice was unable to turn up for duty this morning.’

‘Thank you for telling me, Inspector,’ she said. ‘I’m very grateful.’

‘Please forgive Alice if she is unable to resume work for … some time.’

‘Yes, yes, of course. Tell her not to worry about us. She has more than enough on her hands. And please give her my best wishes. I do hope that everything turns out well.’

She put the receiver down and tried to absorb the impact of what she had just been told. Alice Marmion was in distress, uncertain if the man she was engaged to marry would survive. She would be on tenterhooks. Thelma Gale felt ashamed of the unseemly haste with which she had blamed Alice for failing to turn up. She was full of sympathy for her now. Sergeant Keedy had been shot in the execution of his duty. If he died as a result, the effect on Alice would be devastating. Even if she did return to work, she would never be the same confident, dedicated policewoman again. Something would have perished inside her.

CHAPTER FOUR

The death of a serving policeman was an event of such importance that it was reported to the commissioner of the Metropolitan Police Force. When he entered his office at 8 a.m., Sir Edward Henry found the details in a report on his desk. Having read it, he summoned Claude Chatfield. The superintendent responded immediately.

‘This is sad news,’ said the commissioner. ‘I hate hearing of a policeman being murdered.’

‘It’s particularly tragic in this case, Sir Edward. Constable Meade was on the point of retiring when the war broke out. He saw how badly we’d be depleted by losing so many men to the army, so he volunteered to stay on.’

‘That was very commendable.’

‘This is a poor reward for all those years of service he gave us. His family and friends will be shocked by the news.’

‘As indeed am I,’ said the commissioner. ‘But I’m alarmed to hear that Sergeant Keedy was also shot. Meade’s career was in the past, but Keedy’s lay before him – until today.’

‘He may yet recover and return to duty, Sir Edward.’

‘That’s my dearest hope. It must have come as a terrible shock to Inspector Marmion. He is in danger of losing both his sergeant and his future son-in-law.’ He lowered his voice. ‘What’s the latest news from the hospital?’

‘Keedy is still in the operating theatre. Marmion’s wife and daughter are in the waiting room, praying that he will make a complete recovery but … the sergeant was shot from close range.’

‘He would be a great loss to us.’

‘We can but hope, Sir Edward.’

‘Quite so.’

‘Meanwhile,’ said Chatfield, ‘I have the problem of replacing Sergeant Keedy. It is not easy when we are at full stretch. Scotland Yard has nobody available, so I have had to accede to Marmion’s request.’

‘Oh?’

‘He wants a detective constable to be promoted to the rank of acting sergeant.’

‘Does he have a particular individual in mind?’

‘Yes, he does. It’s someone who has worked with him and Keedy before.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Clifford Burge,’ said Chatfield. ‘I must say that I have my doubts about him.’

‘No disrespect to you,’ said the commissioner, ‘but I prefer to rely on Marmion’s judgement. Besides, I seem to remember good reports of Burge. Isn’t he the man who helped to break up those gangs of feral youths in Stepney?’

‘Yes, he is.’

‘Then he sounds the ideal choice. Detective Constable Burge was, as I recall, brought up in the East End. I’d say that he was the obvious man to investigate one or possibly two murders of police officers in Limehouse. You can tell Marmion that I applaud his choice.’

‘I will,’ said Chatfield, hiding his resentment.

‘Has Burge shown any inclination towards promotion?’

‘He’s been studying with a view to taking the examinations, Sir Edward.’

‘Splendid!’ said the other, beaming. ‘He can have practical experience of the role of sergeant and a chance to show his mettle. In time, of course, we hope that Keedy will be able to return to duty. Meanwhile, we have a good replacement.’

Chatfield forced a smile of agreement.

Alice and Ellen Marmion were still in the waiting room at the hospital, chafing at the absence of information about Keedy. Even though the chairs were uncomfortable, Ellen managed to drift off to sleep. Her daughter’s patience was wearing thin.

‘How much longer are they going to be?’ she demanded.

‘What?’ asked Ellen, stirring.

‘We’ve been here for hours, Mummy.’

‘And we may be here for a few more. We must be patient, Alice. The surgeons are doing their very best for Joe. They can’t be hurried. Try not to fret about it.’

‘There’s surely something they could have told us.’

‘Be grateful that Joe was brought here so quickly after he was shot. That must count in his favour. And remember what your father told us. They think he’ll pull through.’

‘That was just a hopeful guess. I want the truth.’

‘I know,’ said Ellen, putting a hand on her arm. ‘And the longer we wait, the more agonising it becomes.’ She stood up. ‘Shall I see if I can get us another cup of tea?’

‘No, no – I could hardly drink the last one.’

Ellen sat down again and studied her daughter’s face. Alice was pale and drawn. Her attractive features were masked by anxiety. Her eyes were dull and there were bags beneath them. Ellen put an arm around her shoulders.

‘Whatever happens,’ she said, ‘we’ll manage somehow.’

‘Everything I hoped for has suddenly disappeared.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Joe will fight like mad. He’ll survive somehow.’

‘But what sort of state will he be in afterwards? That’s why I’m so worried.’

‘I know.’

‘You don’t,’ said Alice, on the verge of tears. ‘You don’t know about the plans we were making for our life together. We talked about having children. Joe was keen to start right away but I thought we should wait a couple of years. Someone has taken the decision out of our hands now.’

‘No, they haven’t. Joe will survive. I feel it in my bones.’

‘Yes, but what sort of injuries will he have to live with? He was hit in the stomach. The bullet must have done all sorts of damage. Don’t you understand?’ she wailed. ‘The man who fired that shot might have taken away any chance we had of bringing children into the world.’

Clifford Burge was delighted when he got the summons. Of all the senior officers with whom Burge had worked, Marmion was by far his favourite. Burge almost ran to his office. He was a thickset man in his thirties with broad shoulders and a craggy face. After tapping the door, he went straight into the room.

‘You sent for me, sir,’ he said.

‘I did, indeed,’ replied Marmion. ‘Take a seat. I’ve lots to tell you.’

While Burge lowered himself onto a chair, Marmion explained what had happened during the night in Limehouse. His visitor was shocked to hear about the death of a policeman and the wounding of Keedy.

‘Will he survive?’ he asked, worriedly.

‘We hope so.’

‘Sergeant Keedy always seemed so indestructible. I can’t believe that he’s been rushed to hospital. To be honest,’ confessed Burge, ‘I’ve always looked up to him. He’s exactly the sort of detective that I’d like to be one day – conscientious, fearless, and always poised for action.’

‘That day has come sooner than you expected,’ said Marmion. ‘Because we have a shortage of officers available, I recommended that you might be upgraded to acting sergeant.’ Burge blinked in astonishment. ‘There’s no need to look so amazed. In my view, you are a perfect replacement – and I’m sure that Joe Keedy would agree with me.’

‘I’m just so … shocked, sir.’

‘You’re being offered a big opportunity. Seize it with both hands.’

‘I certainly will,’ said Burge with enthusiasm. ‘When do I start, sir?’

‘Right this moment.’ Marmion reached for a sheet of paper on his desk and handed it over. ‘This is an interim report I prepared for the commissioner. You’ll see that the murder victim was Constable William Meade. His beat partner was Constable Gerald Foley. I met Foley outside the house where the burglars were hiding. He told me that, when he was shot, Meade insisted Foley went after them as they fled. If he hadn’t done that, we’d never have known where they were.’

‘I daresay that he would have wanted to stay with Meade.’

‘Exactly,’ said Marmion. ‘He hated having to desert him. But the sound of the gunshot brought people out of their houses, so he was not leaving Meade in the lurch. He raced after the burglars, saw where they went, then called for assistance.’

‘Foley did the right thing.’

‘That’s not the way he looks at it, I’m afraid. He still feels guilty about deserting Meade. I want you to get across to the Limehouse Police Station to interview Foley. He may still be in shock, so handle him with care.’

‘I will, sir.’

‘Read my report on the drive there.’

Burge was delighted. ‘Do you mean that …?’

‘Yes,’ said Marmion, amused by his response. ‘You’ve moved up in the world. Detective sergeants have access to police vehicles. Off you go.’

Burge leapt to his feet. ‘I can’t believe that this is happening.’

‘Prove to me that I’m not making a terrible mistake.’

‘Yes, Inspector.’

‘And when you’ve finished with Constable Foley,’ added Marmion, ‘get your driver to take you to the jewellery shop that was being burgled. Interview the owner and assure him that we’ll pursue the men responsible until we catch them. That’s a promise.’

Time dragged slowly by. What made their ordeal even worse was that Ellen and Alice were no longer alone. Other people started to trickle into the waiting room, all transfixed by the clock on the wall that would tell them when visiting had started. It was impossible not to overhear details of how the lives of others had changed dramatically. Soldiers who had gone off bravely to war had come back hideously wounded. Some would spend most of their lives on crutches or in a wheelchair. And it was not only descriptions of their physical injuries that shocked the two women. It was the way that war had warped the mind in some cases.

When she heard a mother complaining that her son had turned from a pleasant, well-behaved young man into an angry, foul-mouthed, self-pitying wreck with a missing leg, Ellen was irresistibly reminded of her son, Paul. Having been invalided out of the army after the Battle of the Somme, Paul had come back home from a military hospital to cause all sorts of problems and had then fled from a family in which he no longer fitted. His mother had no idea where he was. Paul was her war wound. The pain was constant.

A nurse came into the waiting room and signalled to the two women. Ellen and Alice were on their feet at once, rushing across to her. When they pressed for details, the nurse told them politely that they would have to wait until they had spoken to one of the surgeons. She escorted them along a corridor, then showed them into an empty office. They sat there for some time before the tall, imposing figure of Hector Garland came into the room. The grim expression on his face made them start. Had the operation been a failure?

As they rose from their seats, he gestured for them to sit down again. He then produced a semblance of a smile and introduced himself as the person in charge of Keedy’s case.

‘I am sorry to have kept you waiting for so long,’ he apologised. ‘Surgery of that kind cannot be rushed. It’s a delicate business. We had to move with excessive care.’

‘Is Joe still alive?’ Alice blurted out.

‘Yes, he is, Miss Marmion.’

‘And will he make a complete recovery?’

‘I have every hope that he will,’ said Garland. ‘But I must warn you that it will take time. There was severe internal damage so extensive surgery was needed. On the other hand, Sergeant Keedy was lucky. The shot was fired by someone high above him, so the bullet entered at a downward angle. That helped vital organs to escape damage. However,’ he added, ‘I can’t say anything more about the operation itself beyond the fact that I believe it to have been a success.’

‘Thank God!’ said Alice, clasping her hands together.

‘Will it be possible for us to see him?’ asked Ellen.

‘No,’ said Garland, ‘I’m afraid not. It will be hours before he even comes around from the anaesthetic, and he will be completely disoriented. I appreciate your desire to see him but the earliest time I would suggest is tomorrow morning.’

‘Why do we have to wait until then?’ gasped Alice.

‘It’s because it’s necessary,’ said Ellen, squeezing her daughter’s hand. ‘We’ll be back tomorrow the moment that visitors are allowed in.’

‘I wish that you could see him sooner,’ said Garland, softly, ‘but we must err on the side of caution. And it’s only fair to warn you that you may not be allowed into Sergeant Keedy’s room. You will only be able to see him through a window.’

‘But I want to speak to him,’ protested Alice.

‘Of course, you do,’ said Ellen, gripping her wrist. ‘We all do. But we must take it in stages. It’s in Joe’s best interests.’ She turned to Garland. ‘Thank you so much for what you have done. We do appreciate it. You must forgive my daughter for being so … well, you understand.’

‘I do, Mrs Marmion,’ said Garland. ‘Of one thing, I can reassure you. The worst is over. You may go home now, happy in the knowledge that Sergeant Keedy is in good hands.’

Keedy had no idea how long he had slept. When his eyelids finally began to flicker and his brain started to function once more, he became aware of the fact that he was in a bed with tubes stuck into him. The slightest movement brought a jab of pain and he let out a grunt. The face of a pretty nurse suddenly came into view. She bent solicitously over him.

‘Hello, Joe,’ she said, sweetly. ‘Remember me?’

CHAPTER FIVE

Clifford Burge was thrilled by his unexpected promotion. Even though it was only temporary, it gave him the opportunity to make his mark. Instead of wallowing in his good fortune, however, he brought his full concentration to the investigation. On the drive to Limehouse, he read Marmion’s report three times, impressed by the detail but worried about the absence of any description of the three burglars. They needed to be apprehended as soon as possible. Burge was excited at the prospect of being able to track them down.

When he reached the police station, he learnt that Gerald Foley was still there. Burge was allowed to question him in an interviewing room. Foley was a tall, pale, rather gangly man in his twenties, who was finding it difficult to come to terms with what had happened. He kept blaming himself for the death of his partner.

‘I should have stayed with him and tried to stem the bleeding,’ he said. ‘Bill told me to go after them, but his need was much greater. How will I be able to face his family? His wife will blame me and so will his children. Bill had three grandchildren as well. Those kids will grow up hating me.’

‘That’s not true at all,’ argued Burge. ‘You did what Constable Meade ordered you to do and chased those three men. If you hadn’t done that, we wouldn’t have been able to track them to their house. Now let’s concentrate on the burglars,’ he went on, taking out his notebook. ‘Describe them in turn.’

‘It was dark. I hardly saw them.’

‘If you chased them all the way to that house, you must have learnt something about each one of them. Were they tall, short, thin, fat? And how old were they? You’re young enough to run fast. What about them?’ He could see the confusion in Foley’s face. ‘Take your time. There’s no hurry. Think back to the moment when you first became aware of them.’

There was a long pause before Foley spoke. ‘Bill saw him before me.’

‘Who?’

‘Their lookout. He was short and skinny and younger than the others. He could run faster than them, I know that. And one of them was much older. I could tell that because he was struggling to keep up with the others. Also,’ said Foley, ‘he was the one with the gun. I know because he suddenly stopped and pointed it at me as a warning.’

‘What did you do?’

‘I ducked into a shop doorway. When I peeped out, they were on the move again. I followed them from a safe distance.’

Burge listened patiently, drawing out information that Foley had not realised he possessed.

‘You did well,’ he said at length. ‘But for your persistence, we’d have had no idea where the burglars went. As for Constable Meade’s family, I don’t think they’ll blame you. They’ll have nothing but admiration for the way you reacted. In chasing those men, you risked your life.’

‘It was a waste of time,’ said Foley, morosely.

‘You found out where those men were hiding.’

‘What use was that? I heard that they shot Sergeant Keedy, then they set fire to the house and escaped. We’ve lost them completely.’

‘Oh, no, we haven’t,’ said Burge, tapping his notebook. ‘I’ve got valuable information in here about these devils. You were right about one of them being much older. He rented that house under the name of Dan Haskins, claiming to be a nightwatchman. Clearly, he was the leader and the man with the gun. When we catch him, we’ll find out his real name.’

Foley bit his lip. ‘I keep thinking about Bill’s family.’