A Bespoke Murder

even went to the road at the back of the property in case she’d left by means of the garden gate. It was all to no avail. By the time he got back to the front of the house, Miriam was standing in the drive. Stone was panting.

‘I can’t see her anywhere,’ he said.

‘Where on earth can she be?’

‘If I had my car, I could go and look for her. But it’s a complete wreck. And Jacob’s car is still in that garage near the shop.’ He scratched his head. ‘Could she be with a friend, perhaps?’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Miriam. ‘Since that awful night, she’s been afraid of meeting anybody. It’s suited her to be shut away in the house. At least, it did until today.’

‘When did you last see her?’

‘It was no more than half an hour ago.’

‘Then she can’t have got far,’ he said, looking up and down the road. ‘The trouble is we don’t know in which direction she went.’

Miriam was tense. ‘You don’t think she’s going to …?’

‘No, I don’t. If she was going to make another attempt, she’d hardly take her handbag with her. By the same token,’ he reasoned, ‘Ruth would take much more than a handbag if she was simply running away.’

‘Why would she do that, Herman?’ asked Miriam in disbelief. ‘We’re her family.’

‘People behave strangely under stress.’

‘Do you think she’s done this deliberately to hurt us?’

‘I don’t believe she knows what she’s doing, Mimi.’

She held back tears. ‘We must tell the police.’

‘I’ve lost all faith in them,’ he said with a sneer.

‘We can’t let her roam about on her own. They need to start a search for her right away.’

He gritted his teeth. ‘Leave it to me. I’ll speak to them.’

They went back into the house. The telephone was in the hall. Stone was about to pick it up when a thought hit him. Miriam was now wringing her hands in anguish.

‘This is dreadful!’ she cried. ‘Haven’t we had enough pain to bear already? Why is Ruth doing this to us?’

‘I’m not sure that she is,’ said Stone, pensively.

‘Ring the police and raise the alarm.’

‘Yes, but what am I to tell them, Mimi?’

‘Tell them that Ruth has run away, of course.’

‘But did she?’ he asked, worriedly. ‘Did she go or was she taken? On a warm night like this, she’d have left her window ajar. It’s not inconceivable that someone climbed up onto that roof, got into her room and seized her unawares.’

Miriam was distraught. ‘Are you saying she’s been abducted?’

‘It’s a consideration. When the synagogue can be attacked and my car can be vandalised on your drive, we have to accept that almost anything can happen.’ His eyes darted and the veins stood out on his temples. ‘Ruth may have gone,’ he said, anxiously, ‘but we mustn’t jump to the conclusion that she did so voluntarily. She may have been kidnapped.’

Neither of them worked office hours. When they were engaged in an investigation, Harvey Marmion and Joe Keedy let it take over what was rightly their leisure time. If Keedy had important information to pass on, he knew that he could call at the inspector’s house at almost any time without getting a frosty welcome. After making contact with the True British League, he felt that he needed to discuss his findings with the inspector. When he got to the house, the family had just finished their meal and were grateful to see him, if only because he relieved the taut atmosphere around the dinner table. Marmion was glad to talk about something other than his daughter’s decision to move out. Ellen immediately offered to make their visitor a cup of tea and Alice was amused by his appearance.

‘The last time I saw you,’ she recalled, ‘you were wearing some of Daddy’s clothes and now you’re dressed like a workman.’

‘It was a necessary disguise, Alice,’ he said, ‘and at least this old suit fits me. When I put on your father’s shoes, I realised that I could never step into them properly because they were far too big.’

‘You’ll replace me one day, Joe,’ said Marmion. ‘Who knows? You might even be promoted above me.’

‘That will never happen, Harv.’

‘You’re the coming man. I’m one of the resident has-beens.’

He took Keedy into the living room so that they could talk alone.

‘What was going on when I arrived?’ asked Keedy. ‘I thought I detected some tension in the air.’

‘You did, Joe. Alice has decided that it’s time to find a place of her own and Ellen positively hates the idea. I’m caught somewhere in the middle.’ He gave a wry grin. ‘Such are the trials of family life.’

‘I’m on Alice’s side. She’s entitled to spread her wings.’

‘Don’t you dare say that to Ellen. It’s a sensitive topic.’

‘You can rely on me, Harv.’

When they’d settled down, Keedy described his visit to the Lord Nelson and gave his assessment of the organisation. He felt that it had serious intentions and was untroubled by inhibitions of any kind. Whether or not it had been involved in any of the incidents under scrutiny, he was not sure, but he got the impression that the two men he met were more than capable of violent action. The scruffy pub that was its unofficial headquarters had made him think that the group was short of money and poorly supported. In fact, as he came to realise, the Lord Nelson was at the heart of an area in the East End where it was most likely to find recruits. People like Brad who lived cheek by jowl with Jewish immigrants were seething with resentment at their growing numbers and influence. He wanted his country to be reserved solely for those who were, in his opinion, truly British.

‘Then it’s no coincidence that they chose a pub called the Lord Nelson,’ noted Marmion. ‘Horatio Nelson was a British hero who kept hated foreigners at bay.’

‘I never thought of that,’ admitted Keedy. ‘It wouldn’t be quite the same if they met at the Black Bear or the Railway Inn.’

‘Where does their money come from?’ asked Marmion.

‘They get contributions from bigots who think like them, I daresay. The one chap spoke about an anonymous donation large enough to buy a lorry.’ He showed the leaflet to Marmion. ‘And they print this sort of inflammatory stuff in large quantities. I’m told they have a sizeable fighting fund at their disposal.’

‘Did they give you their names?’

‘One was called Brad and he was clearly just a foot soldier. The other man pulls the strings. Like me, he chose to conceal his name.’

‘And you say that he had an educated voice?’

‘Yes,’ replied Keedy. ‘He spoke well, whereas Brad sounded as if he had a brain the size of a pea. He’s the sort of character who talks best with his fists. His boss was very different. In fact,’ he said, as the idea dawned on him, ‘if you took away his suit and put him in a pair of dungarees, he’d answer the description of the man seen with the petrol can at the fire in Jermyn Street.’

He broke off as Ellen arrived with the tea. She put the tray down and told her husband to take charge of pouring. Then she gazed at Keedy with a blend of curiosity and wistfulness. After she’d left, he remarked upon it.

‘That was a funny look Ellen just gave me.’

‘It’s much better than the hostile ones I was getting earlier, Joe. Hell hath no fury like a wife who thinks her husband isn’t supporting her in the way she expects.’

‘Thanks for the warning. I’ll stay single.’

‘Oh, don’t misunderstand me,’ said Marmion. ‘I’m all in favour of marriage. I love it. But it does have its moments of turbulence.’ He started to pour the tea. ‘How does this group differ from the others that our lads have been watching?’

‘It’s smaller, more extreme and wilder in its denunciation of the Jews. If it ever got into power — God forbid! — it would initiate a series of pogroms. As it is,’ said Keedy, ‘the League is restricted to more modest targets.’

‘Do you think that Jacob Stein’s shop could be one of them?’