domestic service and so on. They also help refugees from abroad by having women who can speak French waiting at railway stations and at the docks to advise them about accommodation and that.’
‘You don’t speak French, do you?’
‘No, but that’s not the point. The service is there. When they see a need, the WEC moves in to meet it.’
‘I think you’re better off on the trams,’ said Dorothy. ‘I’m sure these other people do good work but they’re too strident for my liking. They’re always demanding this and campaigning for that.’
‘Don’t you believe in women getting the vote, Dot?’
‘I believe in a quiet life.’
‘If we were able to vote, we might even use it to get equal pay one day. Surely, you’d want that.’
‘I get by.’
While her sister took off her coat and slipped it over the back of a chair, Irene began to get the tea things ready. She did not want an argument with Dorothy, who had always been subservient towards men. In Irene’s view, it was a major reason why her sister had never married. She was too deferential. The few men in Dorothy’s life had sought obedience in a future wife but not when it verged on a kind of obsequiousness. It was best to keep off the subject of the WEC for the time being. Irene was about to launch into another topic of conversation when there was a loud knock on the front door.
‘Who can that be?’ wondered Dorothy.
‘I’ll go,’ said Irene, pulling her by the arm to stop her going out. ‘You make the tea, Dot.’
As she went out of the kitchen and into the little passageway, Irene made a point of closing the kitchen door behind her. It was Ernie Gill, she was sure of that. It was just the kind of authoritative knock that he would use. Even if it meant being rude to his face, she would have to get rid of him somehow. His pursuit of her had to be nipped in the bud. Bracing herself for the reunion, Irene put a hand on the knob and opened the front door.
‘I’m sorry, Ernie,’ she said, ‘but I can’t speak to you now.’
The man at the door blinked in astonishment. It was not Gill at all but a dapper individual in his fifties with a well-trimmed beard. Raising his hat, he gave a diffident smile.
‘Good evening,’ he said, politely. ‘I’ve come for Miss James.’
The main problem was to keep them apart. On the return journey, Marmion and Keedy had to make sure that their prisoners did not get close to each other. Their fear was that, given the chance, Cochran would attack his former friend. Now that Gatliffe had given a full confession, Cochran’s denials were meaningless. The only way that he could assuage his anger was by giving Gatliffe a beating but he was never allowed to get close enough to do that. He was either handcuffed to Keedy or, when they boarded a ship at Calais, confined on his own. It was a joyless voyage. Apart from the detectives and the prisoners, the passengers were almost exclusively wounded soldiers being sent home. Their war was over. Many of them had suffered hideous injuries and were in constant pain.
It was a sobering experience for Harvey Marmion. When his son had first joined up, he had been proud of him and sent him off gladly to France, expecting him to be part of a relieving British army that supported French forces in driving out the Germans. Nine months later, the nature of the conflict had been transformed. Casualties on both sides were mounting rapidly and new weapons were doing unspeakable things to the human body. As he looked at some of the amputees lying on deck, Marmion wondered how he and Ellen would cope if their son came home without a leg or an arm. And even if he survived injury, what impact would the horrors he had witnessed have on Paul’s mind? It was bound to change his whole attitude to life.
Keedy strolled across to join his superior at the rail.
‘It’s a pack of lies, Harv,’ he said.
‘Have you been talking to Cochran again?’
‘No, I was thinking about the newspapers. They’re not telling us the truth. We’ve seen what it’s like at the front and it’s not being reported properly in the press. They say nothing whatsoever about the pitiable scenes in the clearing stations, and they never mention the awful smell of death and decay.’
‘They don’t want to scare people, Joe.’
‘Why not?’ asked Keedy. ‘It’s not going to put off new recruits. I reckon that it will do the reverse. If people really know what the Germans are doing to our lads, they’ll want to wipe them off the face of the earth.’ He looked at a wounded man nearby, both legs missing and a bloodstained bandage across his eyes. ‘What sort of life is that poor fellow going to have?’
‘I dread to think,’ said Marmion.
‘Aren’t you glad that Paul’s regiment is not in Ypres?’
‘Yes, Joe, I am.’
Keedy gestured with an arm to take in the whole deck.
‘Are you going to tell Ellen about this? Are you going to describe some of the things we saw and heard at the front?’
‘There’s no point in upsetting her unnecessarily.’
‘What about Alice?’
‘She’s more likely to press for details,’ said Marmion, ‘and I won’t deceive her. Our daughter is not squeamish. She doesn’t get upset easily.’
‘I know,’ said Keedy, fondly. ‘Alice has an inner strength. I think she must get that from you, Harv.’
Marmion’s laugh was hollow. ‘I don’t have much inner strength at the moment. I just feel depressed and humbled by it all.’ He pulled himself together and managed a smile. ‘But we didn’t cross the Channel to act as war reporters, Joe. We had a mission and it was successful. Two men will now be tried for the rape of Ruth Stein. The only disappointment,’ he added, ‘is that they were unable to give us any information regarding the other crimes committed that evening. I believe what Gatliffe told me. They never went inside the shop.’
‘We have to start all over again, then.’
‘It’s not that bad. I’m hoping that some new ground has been broken while we’ve been away and that we’ll get back to find there’s been some definite progress.’
‘We need to track down Jacob Stein’s two former employees,’ said Keedy. ‘The fact that they’ve disappeared so conveniently could be significant.’
‘We shall see, Joe,’ said Marmion. ‘The main thing is that we have good news to report to the commissioner. Cochran and Gatliffe have been arrested and there’s absolutely no doubt about their guilt. Sir Edward will be able to get Herbert Stone off his back now.’
Ruth Stein sat in the living room with her mother, her aunt and two of her cousins. They had been receiving condolences from a string of friends who called in, one of whom was David Cohen, erstwhile manager of the shop. Ruth was too numb to do anything more than offer a pale smile of thanks to the various visitors. She was still locked in her private suffering, convinced that everyone now knew about her attempt at killing herself and condemned her for it. There had been long and painful conversations with Rabbi Hirsch and with her Uncle Herman. Her mother spared her any more questioning and tried to bathe her in a soothing love. It gave Ruth some much- needed relief but failed to disperse her corroding sense of worthlessness.
There was a tap on the door and Herbert Stone popped his head into the room. When he asked to speak to Ruth, she felt the familiar sickness stirring. He was going to take her to task once more, she thought, and it would be gruelling. Stone escorted her to the room that her father had used as his office and he closed the door behind them. When they were both seated, he put a hand on her arm.
‘I have some news for you,’ he said.
‘What is it, Uncle Herman?’
‘I’ve just taken a phone call from Scotland Yard.’
‘Oh!’ She drew back instinctively.
‘It’s good news, Ruth. You should be glad. Inspector Marmion is in charge of the case. Thanks to the information you provided, he was able to identify the two men who attacked you. They were arrested in Flanders, where they’d gone with their regiment. Both of them are now back here in custody. Can you hear what I’m telling you?’ he asked, squeezing her arm. ‘The crime has been solved.’
Ruth was unsure what to make of the news. The sheer mention of Scotland Yard had brought the whole incident flooding back into her mind. It seemed extraordinary to her that something which had happened in an alley in London had sent detectives abroad in pursuit of the men responsible. Somehow she did not wish to hear any more. She wanted to put her hands over her ears and block out sound.
