Dance of Death (30 page)

Before the war, Alice would never have dared to go into a public house on her own or even with a female companion. Women who haunted pubs unaccompanied by a man were, for the most part, either prostitutes or habitual drunkards. The situation had changed dramatically. When a huge army was formed in 1914 to fight the Germans, hundreds of thousands of jobs were suddenly available. Since there were not enough men to fill them, women took their place, proving that they could do most things equally well and – for the first time in most of their lives – earning a proper wage for doing so. Old barriers disappeared and social conventions were revolutionised. The sight of two women drinking alone in a bar was no longer so shocking. When, after leaving the cinema, they went into a pub together, therefore, Alice Marmion and Iris Goodliffe hardly earned more than a glance from the men there. They were simply two more working women with money to spend.

The only shock was the one that Alice suffered. Until that evening, Iris had always seemed a likeable, good-humoured, well-behaved
young woman who looked up to her colleague. That, it transpired, was the sober version. When she’d had a drink or two, Iris became raucous, giggly and relentlessly argumentative. Her voice rose by an octave or more and trebled in volume. Instead of deferring to Alice all the time, she protested loudly against everything that her friend suggested. The evening became increasingly uncomfortable and embarrassing. Alice couldn’t wait to escape. By the time they stepped out into fresh air, Iris was so inebriated that she could hardly stand up. Alice had to support her all the way back to her flat then put her to bed. As she left the building, she vowed that she’d never spend an evening with Iris again when her friend was anywhere near alcohol.

The rows with Joe Keedy and her brother had been bad enough but they paled beside the endless disputes into which she was dragged by Iris. Boarding the bus, Alice felt exhausted. It was as if she’d walked into a pub with a good friend and walked out again with an intoxicated monster. A whole evening had been ruined. In trying to escape from bad experiences, she’d simply added another one to the list. Iris had become a menace and yet, as she was forced to admit, nobody else was to blame. It had been Alice’s idea for them to go on to the pub after seeing the film.

Plunged back into dejection, she sat on the bus and gazed unseeingly through the window. Alice didn’t have the bravado to look ahead to the following day when she would have to face a penitent Iris. It was a torment on which she refused to speculate. All that she could do in the future was to refuse every invitation that her colleague thrust at her. If it meant spending night after night alone, Alice was ready to accept that regimen. Engrossed in misery, she almost missed her stop and had to jump off as the vehicle moved away. She needed a moment to get
her bearings. Alice was just about to set off when her way was blocked by the frame of a man. He’d emerged soundlessly from the shadows and stood directly in her path. Alice tensed, ready to fight him off or to scream for help.

Joe Keedy swept off his hat and stepped in to give her a welcoming kiss.

‘Remember me?’ he asked.

The car picked him up at the usual time then headed for Joe Keedy’s address. When it got there, the sergeant was already waiting on the pavement. He clambered into the rear seat beside Marmion.

‘You’re keen this morning, Joe.’

‘Today is the day, I’m sure of it.’ He held up a thumb and index finger, half an inch apart. ‘We’re
that
close to solving this crime.’

‘I see that you’ve woken up full of confidence and in a happier frame of mind.’ Marmion gave a knowing smile. ‘I fancy that there’s a good reason for that.’

‘There is,’ confessed the other. ‘We had a long chat last night.’

‘Everything’s settled down, has it?’

‘We’re back to where we should be.’

‘That’s good to hear,’ said Marmion with relief. ‘I wish I could say the same where Paul is concerned but there’s still a long way to go yet. However, we did manage to have a proper conversation at last and he was … approachable. That’s an improvement in itself. The main thing is that I was able to reach him.’

‘Ellen must have been grateful for that.’

‘She was overjoyed.’

Keedy rubbed his hands together. ‘Where do we start?’

‘Before we go to Chingford, we’re making a detour to Islington.’

‘Why are we going there?’

‘Mr Noonan won’t be at his office this early,’ replied Marmion, ‘so I thought we’d surprise him on his own doorstep. I managed to find out his home address.’

‘After what I’ve heard about him, I’ll be interested to meet him. But I thought that Mrs Hogg said that she wouldn’t press charges.’

‘That doesn’t mean we let him get away with intimidation. We need to scare him a bit – and to find out just how close he is to Tom Atterbury. Their names keep sticking together in my mind.’

‘Don’t forget to add Martin Pattinson,’ said Keedy. ‘He and Atterbury were seen together. They could both be working with the agent.’

Marmion was not persuaded. ‘I can see Noonan and the dancer conspiring,’ he said, ‘but the agent and Pattinson would make very strange bedfellows. They’re poles apart, as you’ll soon find out.’

‘We’ve come across odd partnerships before.’

‘That’s true. Everything is possible.’

‘What sort of a welcome will we get from Noonan?’

‘It will be a very frosty one.’

‘You said that he was overflowing with amiability.’

‘Not when he’s hauled out of bed by two detectives,’ said Marmion. ‘Brace yourself for some bad language, Joe. He’ll vent his spleen.’

Though she was not entirely sure what her husband had said to him, Ellen could see that it had had a calming effect on Paul. He was pleasant and forthcoming over breakfast that morning. He even rose to some gentle teasing.

‘You might as well throw away those knitting needles.’

‘Why?’

‘We’ve already got enough socks and gloves at the front. In fact, I had so many pairs of socks given to me that I’d need to be a centipede to wear them all.’

‘We’re simply trying to make a gesture, Paul.’

‘I know – and we appreciate it.’

‘It’s so difficult to know what we can do to help.’

‘Try knitting some bulletproof vests.’

He laughed ironically. Ellen knew that his mood could not be ascribed wholly to a conversation with his father. Paul was going out for the day and it was easy to guess with whom he’d be spending it. She made the mistake of mentioning the name.

‘You’re seeing Mavis today, aren’t you?’

‘I might be,’ he grunted.

‘Where are you meeting her?’

‘Don’t know.’

‘Haven’t you arranged a place?’

‘Not yet.’

‘How will you know where to find her?’

‘Who cares?’

‘Why are you being so evasive?’

He lapsed back into the studied silence that she’d come to know and fear. Ellen was intruding again yet, she told herself, it was her right as a mother to know something about her son’s movements. She pressed on.

‘I was wrong,’ she admitted. ‘When she first wrote to you, I was worried that Mavis would be a bad influence on you. I thought she’d make you talk about the war and bring back all those terrible memories you’ve tried to put behind you. But I was wrong, Paul. Since you’re so eager to see her again, she’s obviously become a good friend. Is that right?’

‘It might be.’

‘Does she talk about Colin a lot?’

‘Sometimes.’

‘She must miss him a great deal – and so must you.’

He got up from the table. ‘I’ll go and get ready.’

‘Paul …’

‘Yes?’

‘You could always invite Mavis here, you know. We’d love to meet her. Why don’t you bring her to tea one day?’

‘Because I don’t want to,’ he said in a tone bordering on ferocity. ‘Mavis is my friend, not yours. She’s the
only
thing I’ve got that’s mine and I want it to stay that way. Can’t you understand? I’d never bring her here. Mavis is
mine
.’

Ellen felt as if she’d been poleaxed.

It was a day of decisions for Audrey Pattinson. She’d already made the one that had a bearing on her own life. It was now time to advise someone else to reach a decision. Dennis Orme opened the door to her.

‘Oh, hello, Mrs Pattinson – come on in.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Colette is upstairs. I’ll give her a call.’

Audrey went into the living room and waited. She soon heard Colette tripping down the stairs and was grateful that her brother left them alone to talk in private. When the door was closed, she sat beside Colette on the sofa. Their mutual discomfort was almost tangible.

‘I’m sorry I bothered you like that, Mrs Pattinson,’ said Colette, shamefaced.

‘No, no, you did the right thing.’

‘Did I?’

‘It must have taken a great effort on your behalf.’

‘I’ve been worried sick.’

‘It’s a trouble shared now,’ said Audrey, ‘and that makes it easier to bear.’

‘I just don’t know what to do.’

‘That’s why I’m here.’

‘I thought you were cross with me,’ said Colette. ‘When I called at your house yesterday, you were very funny with me. We’d always been friends before.’

‘We still
are
friends, I hope. And I wasn’t really cross with you, Colette. I was a little stunned by your revelation, that’s all. It was such a surprise. It’s taken me a little time to work things out in my mind but I’ve done that now.’ She put a hand on Colette’s knee. ‘Do you know what I think you must do?’

Godfrey Noonan had just finished breakfast when they called at his house. He was outraged at being caught in a lurid silk dressing gown. Without a wig to hide it, they could see that his bald head was covered with freckles. After being introduced to Keedy, he kept them standing in the hall.

‘Couldn’t you bloody well wait until I got to the office?’ he demanded.

‘No, sir,’ replied Marmion. ‘We’re investigating a murder and have to follow up leads whenever they crop up. There’s a secondary reason for seeing you today. We had a visit from Mrs Hogg yesterday.’

Noonan looked blank. ‘And who might she be?’

‘She’s the lady you tried to intimidate, sir,’ said Keedy.

‘I’ve never intimidated a lady in my life, Sergeant.’

‘You threatened her outside her flat.’

‘Really? Where was this?’

‘You know quite well, sir,’ said Marmion. ‘It was in Archer Street. It seems that you grabbed her by the throat and issued a warning.’

‘That’s a serious allegation. It amounts to slander.’

‘I take it that you’re denying the accusation, sir.’

‘I certainly am, Inspector – with every fibre of my being.’

‘Given the choice between believing you and believing the lady,’ said Marmion, coolly, ‘I’d have to choose the lady. What about you, Sergeant?’

Keedy nodded. ‘Mrs Hogg would be my choice as well, sir.’

‘Can she produce any witnesses?’ asked Noonan, slyly.

‘You made quite sure that she was unable to do so, sir.’

‘So it’s a question of my word against Gillian’s.’

‘How did you know her Christian name, sir? You pretended you’d had no idea who she was a moment ago.’

‘There are so many women in my life,’ said Noonan with an oily grin, ‘that I don’t remember them by their names, only by their respective attributes.’

‘Then you should remember Mrs Hogg,’ said Marmion. ‘She’s the one with the bruises on her neck. You put them there.’

‘Prove it in court.’

‘We don’t have to,’ said Keedy.

‘As it happens,’ resumed Marmion, putting his face close to that of the agent, ‘the lady does not wish to press charges. We just wanted to mark your card, sir. Stay away from Mrs Hogg. Is that clear enough for you? Stay away or we’ll be back.’ He had the satisfaction of seeing the agent swallow hard. ‘Right,’ he went on, taking a step back, ‘we can move on to the main reason we have for coming here. When did you last see Tom Atterbury?’

The postman brought another sheaf of letters and cards. Hearing them drop through the letter box, Catherine Wilder went to pick them up then adjourned to the living room. She used a paper knife with an elaborately carved handle to slit open the envelopes. Some of the letters were long and moving but they had little effect on Catherine. Nor did the cards produce anything but mild interest. Unable to mourn, she could not share in the mourning of others. The final card was quite unlike the others and it lifted her out of her indifference. It was sent by the friend with whom she’d spent an idyllic afternoon at the Charing Cross Hotel. The message excited her.

A thousand thanks for yesterday. It won’t be long now.

Allan Redmond hadn’t needed to sign his name.

Throughout the journey, Paul Marmion imagined how they’d pass the day together. Mavis was his now. The farewell kiss she’d given him as they parted had sealed the fact. Colin Fryatt may have brought them together but he was no longer there. Life belonged to the living, Paul reminded himself, and he intended to make the most of it. They’d chosen Dartford as their meeting place. Neither of them had been to the town before so they could explore it together. That treat, however, was at the very back of Paul’s mind. He had other hopes and ambitions.

Mavis was waiting at the bus stop to greet him. It was an encouraging sign. As he stepped down onto the pavement, she lunged forward to embrace him and he felt the seductive touch of her breasts against his chest.

‘Where shall we go?’ he asked.

‘Let’s just walk.’

‘Can we find somewhere a bit private?’

‘We’ll do whatever you want to do, Paul.’

It was beyond any doubt now. She was definitely his.

Whenever he was in his miniature museum, time passed imperceptibly. Locked away from interruption, Martin Pattinson cleaned his weaponry and polished his medals, rekindling memories of his army days. He’d been happily engaged in there for hours that morning. The first time he heard the noise, he paid it no heed. The second time, however, it was much louder. It sounded as if something heavy was bumping its way downstairs. He unlocked the door and went to investigate. What he saw made him gasp in astonishment. His wife was standing in the hall with two large suitcases beside her.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked.

‘I’m going to my sister.’

‘But you don’t need two suitcases to do that. All that you usually take for a weekend is the small valise.’

‘I’m not going for the weekend, Martin.’

‘Oh – how long will you be gone, then?’

‘I won’t be coming back,’ she said, calmly.

He was stunned. ‘You can’t just walk out of here.’

‘I should have done it years ago.’

‘But we’re married, you’re my wife, we made pledges to each other.’

‘You never kept a single one of them, Martin,’ she told him. ‘Taking my notebook was the final straw. You stole it then lied about it. I don’t want to be in the same house as a man who does that sort of thing.’

‘I apologised,’ he gibbered. ‘There’s no need to get so upset. At least sit down and discuss this properly. You owe that to me, Audrey.’

‘I owe you
nothing
.’

There was such a blend of quiet rage and determination in her voice that he was startled. Audrey had never dared to speak to him like that before. Throughout their marriage, she’d been a model of obedience, accepting his authority without question and asking permission to do what she
wanted to do. Now she was about to walk out of his life indefinitely. The implications frightened him. He tried to threaten, cajole, persuade and even beg her but it was too late. His wife was deserting him.

‘This is madness, Audrey,’ he howled. ‘You must see that.’

‘All I get here is misery. I won’t spend another minute under this roof.’ She heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. ‘That will be my taxi.’ He moved to stand between her and the door. ‘Out of my way, please,’ she said.

‘Give me one more chance, Audrey. That’s all I ask.’

‘Out of my way!’ she yelled.

Pattinson was beaten. He stood meekly aside.

The detectives felt that their mission had been accomplished. In catching Noonan unawares – and without his wig – they’d been able to warn him to keep away from Gillian Hogg in future. Marmion had really shaken him. When they’d interrogated him about his relationship with Tom Atterbury, they learnt that the dancer was one of his favoured clients. Since they both lived in Islington, the two men often saw each other. Noonan claimed that he hadn’t met his client since the murder but they didn’t believe him for a second. Before they left, they told him that they were watching him closely and that, when further evidence emerged, they’d need to take a statement from him at Scotland Yard. The agent had quailed visibly.

‘We got to him before he’d put his armour on,’ said Marmion. ‘He’d have been much more of a handful at his office.’

‘Noonan’s a big man. When he grabbed Mrs Hogg, he must have hurt her.’

‘He won’t do it again, Joe.’

‘Should we ask Chat to put a tail on him?’

‘It’s too late for that. Atterbury will have told him about being followed. That will have put Noonan on guard. The best time to tail someone is when they haven’t the faintest clue that they have a shadow. Noonan will
think
that we’ve got him under surveillance, however, and that will make him sweat.’