A Bespoke Murder

lungs, you’ve got no chance. I’ve seen lots of people who’ve died that way — and just about every other way, for that matter. Call it an occupational hazard.’

Before he joined the police force, Keedy had worked briefly in the family firm of undertakers but he lacked the temperament for a funeral director. His lively sense of humour was considered distasteful in a world of professional solemnity. The irony was that his work as a detective involved dead bodies as well, with the added challenge of finding out who had actually committed the murders.

‘What about witnesses?’ asked Marmion.

‘They’re few and far between. According to the constable who was first on the scene, there were over forty people scrambling around inside the shop. When the fire took hold, they got out quickly with whatever they’d managed to grab.’

‘Were any arrests made?’

‘Only two,’ said Keedy. ‘It was like bedlam here, apparently. The constable was lucky to nab the two men that he got.’

‘I’ll make a point of talking to both of them.’

‘One of them was caught with a suit he’d stolen. Why bother to take it? It’s not as if he could wear the blooming thing. He’s a plumber by trade. Can you imagine him going to work in a Jacob Stein suit?’

‘I daresay he wanted a souvenir.’

‘He’s got one, Inspector — a visit to the magistrates’ court.’

They shared a laugh then surveyed the crowd. While Keedy picked out the pretty faces of young women, Marmion was studying the expressions on the faces of the men.

‘Some of them are here, Joe,’ he said. ‘Some of the people who did this have come back to see their handiwork. They know they’re safe. When a crowd is on the rampage, it’s almost impossible to pick out individuals. They’re here to gloat.’

‘What about the women?’

‘In their case, it’s mostly idle curiosity.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ said Keedy. ‘Did you read about what happened in Liverpool yesterday? When they ran riot there, one of the ringleaders was a sixty-year-old woman.’

‘I saw the article. She helped to set fire to a garage owned by someone with a German name. Her son was a carpenter on the Lusitania. He’s feared dead.’

‘What she did was understandable.’

Marmion was firm. ‘That doesn’t make it right, Joe.’

‘No, no, I suppose not.’

There was a buzz of interest from the crowd when they saw the fire engine moving closer so that its ladder could be brought into use. Hoses had stopped playing on the upper floor and were concentrating their aim on the glowing embers in the shop. A fireman removed his helmet to wipe the sweat from his brow. After receiving orders from a superior, he gave a nod and put the helmet on again. There was no glass left in the upper windows and smoke was still curling out of them. When the ladder was in position, the fireman went slowly up it.

‘Better him than me,’ said Keedy. ‘I can feel the heat from here.’

‘It’s what they’re trained to do, Joe.’

‘They’ve had plenty of practice since the Lusitania sank.’

‘I’ll be glad when this mania dies down. It’s costing too many lives. All right,’ said Marmion, ‘they may have German names but they’ve all been naturalised. If they hadn’t been, they’d be interned by now. They’re British citizens who chose to live here because they believed they could have a better life in our country. They work hard, set up businesses, pay their taxes and keep out of trouble.’ He gestured towards the shop. ‘Then this happens. It’s sickening.’

‘It’s the prevailing mood, Inspector. Nothing we can do about that except to pick up the pieces afterwards. Hang on,’ said Keedy, looking up. ‘I think he’s going inside.’

They watched with interest as the fireman at the top of the ladder used his axe to hack away the charred remains of the window frame. Putting the axe away in his belt, he cocked a leg over the sill then switched on his torch. The next moment, he ducked his head and climbed gingerly into the room to test its floorboards and joists. Marmion and Keedy waited for what seemed like an age for the man to reappear. When he finally did so, he came back through the window then descended the ladder. His superior was waiting for him.

The detectives remained patient as the fireman removed his helmet before delivering his report. Though he could hear none of the words spoken, Marmion could see that it was an animated discussion. When the officer pointed upwards, the fireman shook his head decisively. At length his superior gave the man a congratulatory pat then looked around for the detectives. Marmion and Keedy stepped forward to meet him.

‘Well,’ said Marmion, ‘what did he find?’

‘There is a body there, Inspector,’ replied the officer, ‘but he was unable to reach it because part of the floor had given way. We’ll have to wait until we can approach it from below.’

‘How long will that take?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine — hours at least.’

‘What state was the body in?’ asked Keedy.

‘Oh,’ said Marmion, introducing his colleague, ‘this is Sergeant Keedy. He’s not asking his question out of ghoulish curiosity. He used to work for an undertaker and has seen many victims of fires.’

‘They’ve usually been overcome by smoke,’ noted Keedy.

‘Not in this instance,’ said the officer, grimacing. ‘My man couldn’t reach him but he got close enough to see the knife sticking out of his chest. There was something else he noticed, Inspector. The safe door was wide open.’ He shook his head in disgust. ‘You’re not just dealing with arson and theft, I’m afraid. You’ve got a murder case on your hands.’

CHAPTER FOUR

Ruth stayed in the bath even though the water was getting cold. She felt dirty all over. She was still stunned at the way that her body had been invaded by a complete stranger. Until her terrifying encounter in the alley, she’d had only a fuzzy idea of what sexual intercourse involved. All that her mother had told her was that she had to ‘save yourself for your husband’. That was impossible now. The thing she was supposed to save had been cruelly wrested from her. What potential husband would even consider her now? He’d regard her as tainted. And if she hid the awful truth from him, he’d be bound to discover it on their wedding night. Ruth’s virginity had gone for ever. In its place, her assailant had left her with pain, fear and revulsion. The thought that he might also have left her pregnant made her tremble uncontrollably.

They would all blame her but not as much as she blamed herself. What had she done wrong? Why didn’t she call for help? Should she have pleaded with them? Should she have run back to her father? Why did she slap one of them across the face? Was that her mistake? Would they have let her go if she’d simply given them a kiss? Who would believe what she had suffered and who could possibly understand? Ruth felt defenceless and horribly alone.

Her mother had tried to send for the doctor but Ruth had begged her not to do so. She claimed that she would be fine after a bath and locked herself in the bathroom. Water was hopelessly inadequate. It might cleanse her body but it could not remove the ugly stain of her torment. That would always be at the back of her mind. Ten minutes in an alleyway had ruined her life. It was unfair.

Her mother banged on the door.

‘Ruth!’ she called. ‘Are you all right in there?’

‘Yes, Mother,’ replied her daughter, meekly.

‘You don’t sound all right. You’ve been in there over an hour.’

‘I’ll be out soon, I promise.’

‘I want you to come out now,’ said Miriam, ‘and I still think that the doctor should have a look at you. It’s not right for a healthy girl of your age to faint like that. You frightened me.’

‘I’m sorry, Mother. I didn’t mean to.’