was something he’d not yet managed to do with the irascible landlord of the Golden Goose.
Taking his leave, Marmion left the building and headed for the main gate. No sooner was he let out than he saw Keedy approaching with his usual jaunty stride.
‘It’s all right for some,’ complained the sergeant. ‘You have use of the car whereas I have to travel by Shanks’s pony.’
‘Mr Kennett told me you’d gone off with Mrs Quinn.’
‘You’ve met him, have you?’
‘Yes, and he’s as helpful as you said.’
‘What brought you here, Harv?’
‘Tell me about Maureen Quinn first. Did you track her down?’
Keedy explained that he’d followed his instinct and reunited mother and daughter. The incident had shown him just how afraid they both were of Eamonn Quinn. They’d agreed to say nothing about Maureen’s disappearance and to make Lily hold her tongue as well. When he got home, Quinn would be unaware of the female conspiracy in his household.
Marmion explained that what had brought him to the factory was a name that had been given to him by Royston Liddle. It belonged to one of the drivers who worked there. Unfortunately, Alan Suggs was not on the premises. He’d driven off with a consignment of shells and would be away for some time. Keedy was not sure that the man was worth pursuing.
‘I reckon he’s in the clear, Harv,’ he said. ‘If he only used that outhouse as a place for a rendezvous with his girlfriend, he wasn’t really breaking the law.’
‘He was trespassing, Joe.’
‘We can’t arrest a man for spending half an hour in an empty outhouse. Apart from anything else, it would blight his romance.’
‘I just want to talk to Suggs.’
‘Well, show a bit of sympathy. Think back to the time when you were courting Ellen. According to Alice, her parents were not exactly impressed at first by the idea of you as a future son-in-law. I bet that you had a few secret meetings when and wherever you could.’
‘That’s beside the point,’ said Marmion, unhappy at the reminder. ‘We didn’t hide in a place where five women were blown up only days later.’
‘Are you saying that Suggs is a suspect?’
‘I’m saying that we should check every lead we have. While I’m waiting for him to drive back here, I’m going to call at the homes of some of the victims and see what I can unearth. I thought I’d start with the one person that Maureen Quinn told us so little about and that’s Shirley Beresford.’
‘Well, I can tell you two significant facts about that young lady,’ said Keedy. ‘The works manager did some research on our behalf. I have his notes.’
‘Excellent — what do they tell you, Joe?’
‘Shirley Beresford was married and she was their star player.’
‘Star player?’
‘Believe it or not, this factory has its own women’s football team. They not only finished top of the league, they’re due to play in a cup final next week against a team from Woolwich. They take the game very seriously.’
‘That
‘Yes, they did. Maureen Quinn is their goalkeeper.’
‘Is she any good?’
‘She’s one of the reasons they won the league, Harv. She keeps out shots at one end of the pitch while Shirley Beresford scores goals at the other. They were both crucial members of the team. See what I’m starting to think?’
‘With two of their best players out of the way, they’d be badly weakened in that cup final. Woolwich would be clear favourites.’
‘It all sounds so far-fetched, though,’ argued Keedy. ‘I know that passions run high in sport but would anyone really stoop to something like this?’
Marmion needed a few moments to consider his answer. Weighing heavily with him was the fact the munitions factory at Woolwich would employ lots of people who knew how to handle explosives. Cup finals did tend to intensify feelings.
‘All’s fair in love and football,’ he concluded.
Diane Quinn sat on the bed with an arm around her elder daughter. She’d been so frightened by her disappearance that morning that she didn’t want to let her go. Maureen’s bedroom had blue patterned wallpaper, much of it covered by sepia photographs of the works football team and accounts of their progress cut out of the local newspaper. Her football kit was on a coat hanger on the back of the door and her goalkeeper’s gloves were on the bedside table. A football was tucked in a box among a pile of assorted items. The room was small but it had seemed vastly smaller when Maureen had shared it with her sister. The departure of their brothers to the army allowed the girls to have a room each. It was a boon to Maureen. While she yearned for the safe return of her brothers, she revelled in her new-found privacy.
‘Don’t feel you need to speak until you’re absolutely ready,’ said Diane.
After a long, uneasy, painful silence, her daughter finally spoke.
‘I’ll never forgive myself,’ she said, dully. ‘I was ashamed.’
‘You’ve nothing to be ashamed of, Maureen.’
‘I forgot. I only slept for a couple of hours last night but, when I woke up, I forgot. I thought it was a normal day so I got up as usual, got ready and let myself out. It was only when I stood on the corner waiting for her that I realised Agnes wasn’t going to come. Can you see how awful that was, Mummy?’ she asked. ‘My best friend was murdered yesterday and I somehow managed to forget. That was
‘Not at all,’ said Diane, rocking her gently to and fro. ‘In a way, it’s only natural. You were so harrowed by what happened at the pub that you had to put it out of your mind — nothing wrong in that. A lot of people would have done the same.’
‘I felt that I’d betrayed Agnes — and the others, of course.’
‘You should have come straight back home. I’d have taken care of you.’
‘I was too frightened. Daddy would have known what I did.’
‘He loves you, darling. He’s just not very good at showing it.’
‘I stood on that corner in the cold for ages. People were staring at me.’
‘Ignore them. Having that complexion is not your fault.’
‘Do you know what I felt like doing?’
‘What?’
‘I felt like going round to Mrs Radcliffe’s house to apologise. I wanted to say sorry that I’d made a dreadful mistake waiting for her and that it didn’t mean I didn’t care for Agnes. I cared for all of them — they were my friends.’
‘Maureen,’ said her mother, taking her by the shoulders and turning her so that they faced each other, ‘I want you to promise me something.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Don’t — on any account — go to see Mrs Radcliffe.’
‘Why not? I always got on well with her.’
‘That was when Agnes was alive. Things are different now. When I was searching for you, I called on Mrs Radcliffe and got a real mouthful from her. She said some nasty things about you and I left before I lost my temper with her. I know she’s bereaved but that doesn’t mean she can abuse my daughter.’
Maureen was hurt. ‘What did she say?’
‘It’s better that you don’t know. Keep away from her.’
‘I loved Agnes — and the baby.’
‘That’s all in the past now, Maureen. Get used to it.’ She released her hold on her daughter’s shoulders. ‘Why did you go to church?’
