The Shadow of Treason (9 page)

Up there he was totally alone, and he wasn’t overlooked by any windows. Satisfied, the man laid the canvas bag flat and knelt down beside it, beneath the level of the parapet. He took from the bag another lengthy object, this time a rifle: a rather sophisticated one with silencer and telescopic lens. He also produced a pair of binoculars and, from his pocket, a
photograph
of a man. Then he settled into a dark space between two chimney stacks and began to scan the park.

On the path by the bridge, Martin Hunter was taking his usual post-prandial walk. To park regulars, who were used to seeing him, it seemed like his customary casual afternoon stroll. But, in fact, Hunter was not in the relaxed mood that these perambulations usually induced. His agonized decision of a few nights ago still obsessed him.

Had he betrayed his friends and left them open to dire
consequences
or had his telephone warning been discreet enough to avert a national struggle without ruining the plotters’ lives? On the other hand, had he said enough? Had his mild words been sufficient to produce the necessary action? Deep in thought, he nearly collided with a small girl on a red tricycle. Indeed, he would have done, had the mother not pulled the child back.

Hunter doffed his bowler hat and apologized, before walking on. He took just a few more paces, the last of his life. And then, suddenly, all his heart searching was ended. A bullet hit him just above the left ear, leaving a neat hole, from which blood had started to trickle even before he hit the ground.

‘T
WENTY-SEVEN
… P
ENN
S
TREET
,’ Sergeant Monk repeated, as he wrote down the words. ‘Right, I’ve got all that. Thanks. I’ll tell the inspector.’

He replaced the receiver.

‘Good news, sir. Southend police have identified the jokers who got themselves killed on the pier.’

‘About time,’ said Jessett, carefully taking another biscuit. He was a meticulous man, one of the few individuals who could extract a digestive biscuit from the packet without damaging either. ‘Names mean anything?’

‘Frank Cregan and David Stanley Clark, both with addresses in Stepney.’

‘Cregan rings a bell,’ said Jessett thoughtfully. He stirred his tea and gently dipped the biscuit. ‘See if anything’s known.’

‘Southend have done that. They got the prints off the national records. Both men had form. Each done once for affray, Cregan twice for GBH.’

‘I remember now. Cregan was a strong-arm man for the Plaistow mob, wasn’t he? Moved into our manor last year. Friend of Reggie Paynter.’

‘That’s right, sir. And that reminds me.’ Monk pulled a pad from his pocket. ‘I had a chat with Sniffer Dean the other night. Cost us a tenner, but he’s ready to give us enough evidence to nail Reggie Paynter for that post office job.’

The phone rang, and he picked up the receiver. ‘Inspector Jessett’s office … Who? … Oh, Miss Hart … hang on, I’ll see if
he’s free.’ He put his hand over the mouthpiece. ‘Jane Hart, sir. Will you take it?’

‘Yes,’ said Jessett. ‘Hold on a minute.’

The bottom of his biscuit had fallen into the tea, and the inspector was trying to retrieve it with his teaspoon. Now he gave up, and knocked the whole lot back with a couple of gulps. ‘OK, put her through.’

Jane came on the line, sounding bright and eager. ‘Hello, Inspector, it’s Jane Hart. You remember? From the Cavendish?’

The inspector responded affably. ‘Yes, Miss Hart, of course. How are you?’

‘Life’s a bit hectic, with all the rehearsals, but I’ve been trying to think about Maurice Cooper, as you asked. You said to let you know if I had any ideas.’

‘Yes, please. Has anything occurred to you?’

‘Well, I wondered if you knew that Cooper was up to his neck in the local black market?’

‘It doesn’t surprise me, Miss Hart. But he never actually turned up in any of our enquiries. Are you sure of this?’

‘Absolutely. He was always promising me nylons, if I was nice to him. Which I wasn’t, of course. And he hinted to various residents that he could get things like whisky and petrol, if they could pay silly prices.’

‘That’s useful to know, Miss Hart. Anything else?’

‘Mark Jefferson was interested in Cooper. He told me Cooper used to hang around a pub called The Bull. He was involved with an ex-boxer called Pointer or Paynter or something.’

‘Reggie Paynter?’

‘Yes, I think that was the name. They sound like a pretty tough bunch. It struck me that if Cooper fell out with them, they could have done him in.’

‘Possibly. We know a bit about Reggie Paynter. What are Adam Webber’s thoughts on the subject?’

Jane avoided the trap. ‘I don’t know. I never talked about it with him. I got that last stuff from Mark.’

‘You’ve still heard nothing from Mr Webber?’

‘I’m afraid not. Have you had any news, Inspector?’

‘We’ve identified the victims on Southend Pier. A couple of small-time criminals. We’d like to know how they were involved with Mr Webber.’

‘Sorry, I’ve no idea.’ Jane changed the subject. ‘Oh, I’ve given the Windmill box office your name and your sergeant’s. It’s Sergeant Monk, isn’t it?’

‘That’s right.’

‘You’ll come in free any time you’d like to turn up.’

‘You’re very kind,’ said Jessett. ‘Could I now have your London address?’

Jane was ready. ‘Sorry, but it changes all the time, according to which of the girls can put me up on her sofa. I shan’t know till after the show tonight.’

Jessett sighed. ‘I see. Well, please keep in touch.’

‘I certainly will. Good luck with your enquiries, Inspector.’

The line clicked off at the other end.

Jessett let out a deep breath and peered at his empty mug. ‘I could manage more tea.’

‘Right you are, sir,’ said Monk, transferring Jessett’s mug to the table, on which stood the tray with teapot, electric kettle and tin of powdered milk. ‘Anything helpful from the girl?’

‘She wanted to tell me that Cooper was in with the black market crowd at The Bull. She even mentioned Reggie Paynter.’

‘There’s a coincidence.’

‘Yes. I think we’ll pull Reggie in, now we’ve got evidence. Apart from the post office job, I reckon he can tell us something about Cooper and Cregan. Have Sniffer sign a written
statement
. I’ll get an arrest warrant.’

‘Very good, sir.’ Monk poured more tea for both of them. ‘You’re right. Cregan and Paynter were certainly mates. Cregan was Paynter’s second in his boxing days. Maybe Paynter can tell us something about the scrap on the pier.’

‘It’s a bonus if he can. But I’m more concerned with who killed Cooper. That’s the blot on our patch.’

‘Right, sir.’ Monk handed the inspector his tea.

‘Ta,’ said Jessett, once again wrestling with the biscuit packet. The closer he got to the bottom, the more difficult it was.

‘Now I’ll tell you the really helpful thing about that phone call.’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘It tells us that Webber and that girl are thick as thieves. She’s desperate to lead us away from him by babbling on about Cooper and the villains at The Bull. Either she’s with him, or she knows where he is. If we play our cards right, she’ll lead us to him.’ Jessett succeeded in extricating another biscuit. ‘It may be time for our visit to the Windmill.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Monk cheerfully. ‘The sooner the better.’

‘And the biscuits are running low. Ask Sergeant Fairweather to rustle up some more, will you?’

‘Sergeant Fairweather?’

‘Yes, you remember. He gets them off-ration from a girl at the grocer’s.’

Alfred Jupp alighted from the taxi and handed the driver half a crown.

The sixpence tip was over-generous, but he was in an
expansive
mood. Tonight he was putting the impending coup out of his mind: tonight was a special anniversary.

It wasn’t a wedding anniversary. Next March he’d mark his twenty-six years of marriage to Muriel with half a dozen red roses and, perhaps, a quiet supper for two at the House of Commons. Tonight was more exciting.

It was exactly a year since he’d met his mistress. And, despite a stolid appearance, Jupp was a romantic. As far as he was aware, his girl hadn’t noticed the anniversary approaching, and he was going to surprise her. He knew her work schedule: she was free this evening. He intended to take her to Silvio’s, the club where he’d first encountered her. Then she was in the chorus line. Tonight she’d be sitting at the best table.

He pushed open the street door, crossed the foyer and went up the stairs. He was confident she’d be at home – if not now,
then soon. Tonight was the night she washed her hair, and listened to
Jazz Club
on the radio.

He reached the first floor, pushed his key into the door on the right, and turned it with his right hand. In his left hand he held a bunch of flowers.

The hall light was on: so she was in. And there were voices in the sitting room. Jupp closed the front door, opened the sitting room door and went in.

His girlfriend had company. She was sitting in an armchair, enjoying a lively conversation with another girl and a man, both of whom were relaxed on the sofa. The man’s face looked vaguely familiar.

Maggie Rayner looked up, startled. Then she leaped to her feet and came towards him with outstretched arms.

‘Alfie! What a lovely surprise! I wasn’t expecting you!’

Jupp gave her the flowers and kissed her on the cheek. ‘It’s intended to be a surprise, my dear. For a special day. Exactly a year since we met. At Silvio’s, remember?’

Maggie was starting to collect her wits. ‘Of course! Silvio’s! How could I forget? But I thought you were away, working somewhere.’

‘I was. But I told them I had to be in London for the night. I felt we were due for a celebration.’

‘A celebration! Alfie, that’s wonderful!’

Jupp was looking at the couple on the sofa, trying hard not to stare at the man, and wondering where he’d seen that face before. ‘I hope I’m not interrupting anything.’

Maggie laughed. ‘No, we’re just having a drink and a chat. This is my friend Jane, who’s in my show at the Windmill. And John’s her boyfriend. He’s home on leave from the army.’

‘How do you do?’ said Jupp. ‘You’re in the army, young man?’

Adam rose and shook his hand. ‘Yes. This is my last day in civvies for a while.’

‘Well, well, pleased to meet you. And you … Jane, is it? You’re in Maggie’s show.’

‘That’s right,’ said Jane. She gave a tense little laugh. ‘We’re the stars! Only we’re both off today.’

Maggie’s words tumbled out. ‘John came up from his parents’ home yesterday, and he has to catch a train up north late tonight. So he and Jane stayed here last night.’ This she announced forcefully, aware that there were signs of male
habitation
that needed to be explained. ‘You always said I could put up friends when you’re not here.’

‘Of course,’ said Jupp. ‘Always glad to help your chums, especially when they’re doing their bit for the war effort. Please sit down, all of you, and have another drink.’

‘Thank you,’ said Jane. ‘But now you’re here, I think we ought to go. I’m sure you and Maggie have a lot to talk about.’

‘Maggie and I are going out,’ said Jupp. He turned to Maggie. ‘How does Silvio’s suit you?’

Maggie gushed. ‘Oh Alfie, that would be smashing!’

‘So you two stay here till it’s time for John’s train,’ said Jupp. ‘I’m sure there’s a bottle of wine for you in the cabinet. And if Maggie’s left any food in the fridge, you’re welcome to it.’

‘That’s very kind of you,’ said Jane. ‘What do you think, John?’

‘Fine with me. It’s very comfy here. Thank you, sir.’

So they all sat down for a brief spell of nervous conversation.

And then Jupp got to his feet. ‘Maggie, I have to leave you for ten minutes. I need some pills from the chemist. You start getting ready. John and Jane, relax and make yourselves at home.’

Maggie smiled. ‘Oh, they’ll do that all right. But I hope you won’t expect me to be ready in ten minutes!’

‘No, no, just get started. But we’ll be on our way as soon as we can, eh? Leave these two together. They may not be meeting again for a while. I’m afraid this wretched war’s going on for some time yet.’

And with that, Jupp made his exit, pausing at the door to add, ‘Don’t forget, you two. You can stay here for as long as you like.’

He closed the sitting room door behind him.

As soon as they heard the front door shut, Maggie jumped up. ‘Right, you two! Get out of here fast!’

Jane was not surprised. ‘You think he recognized Adam?’

‘I’m damn sure he did! First he was staring at him, and I could see his mind working. Then something clicked and he stopped looking and started thinking what to do. Don’t forget, Adam’s picture’s been in the papers all week.’

‘So what’s he up to?’

‘He’s gone to call the police, hasn’t he?’ said Maggie. ‘He’ll reckon it’s his duty. He might even think I’m in danger. All he knows is there’s a man here who’s wanted for murder!’

‘How far’s the police station?’

‘He won’t bother with that, he’ll ring them. He couldn’t use the phone here, with you listening. He’s on his way to the call box in Carlton Avenue. That’s five minutes away. You can bet the coppers will be here ten minutes after that. So you’ve got just under a quarter of an hour to disappear!’ She noticed Jane hesitating. ‘Don’t hang about! Go now!’

Jane sighed. ‘You’re right, of course. I’m trying to think where to head for.’

‘Try some of the other girls. Or Vic Dudley. He’s a good sport. And he’s cross with the police, since they tried to nail him for fiddling petrol.’

‘Vic Dudley, yes! He’s got a big flat, hasn’t he?’

‘Yes, he has. And that reminds me, he owes me a favour.’ Maggie winked. ‘Tell him I’m asking.’

Adam and Jane delayed no longer. Jane had brought a
suitcase
the previous day, with items from the Cavendish. They threw all their things into the case, and five minutes later they were gone.

When Jupp reached the phone box, there was a man already in there, making a call. Jupp fretted as he waited outside, wondering if it would be quicker to look for another one. He decided against it. When he found one, that too might be occupied.
Or it might have been vandalized. At least he knew this one was working.

Eventually, he opened the door and said, ‘Excuse me, but could you be quick, please? I have to make an urgent call. A matter of national importance.’

The man moved the receiver away from his face long enough to say ‘Bugger off!’, and then he resumed his conversation.

He was a big man. Jupp withdrew.

Five minutes later the man came out, scowled at Jupp, and went on his way. Jupp entered the call box and dialled a number. Then he waited impatiently, drumming his fingers on the ledge.

When the phone was picked up at the other end, he spoke with speed and authority. ‘Listen carefully, this is vitally
important
. Alfred Jupp here, and I’ve got the man Webber for you … yes, he’s in my flat at 9 Rochester Court, Trent Road, Maida Vale. Now I have a friend there, and I don’t want her involved, so give me time to get her out. Have your people there in forty minutes. Tell them to say they’re police. They’ll find a man there with a girl. Have them leave the girl and take the man. He’s slightly disguised, but he’s definitely Webber.’

Jupp repeated the address, got an acknowledgment from the other end, and hung up. Then he left the box, and started walking briskly back to the flat.

In fact, he was too brisk. As he stepped off the pavement, there was a screech of brakes and a car, whose dimmed
headlights
he hadn’t seen, skidded to a halt. It had almost stopped before it knocked him over. It took only a moment for Jupp to collect himself and get to his feet. But already the driver, a middle-aged man in a dark overcoat and a bad temper, had got out of the car. He confronted Jupp angrily.