‘He likes a drink at the pub, that’s all.’
‘Would that be an exclusively Irish pub, by any chance?’
She hunched defensively. ‘What are you getting at?’
‘I’m wondering if your husband supports the aims of Sinn Fein.’
‘I told you. He never talks about things like that to me.’
‘Yet you must have known that Niall was involved in their activities. Did your husband approve of what he was doing or condemn it?’
About to fling back a retort, Diane was checked by the painful memory of her husband’s declaration in favour of Irish nationalism. It had been under the surface all the time but it had never burst out like that before. Keedy watched her closely and wondered if he should apply more pressure. He was prevented from doing so by the arrival of Maureen Quinn. Having been listening to them outside the door, she wanted to protect her mother from further questioning.
‘What’s going on?’ she asked. ‘Did I hear Niall’s name being mentioned?’
It was mid-afternoon when Marmion got to the police station in Hayes. He’d already rung Claude Chatfield from his home to report on their visit to Frongoch and hoped that he wouldn’t have to speak to the superintendent again until the end of the day. Yet, as soon as he went into the room he was using as his office, he saw the note left on the table for him. It asked him to contact Scotland Yard immediately. He rang the number and heard the telephone being snatched up at the other end.
‘Is that you, Marmion?’ asked Chatfield.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘I expected you to ring earlier than this.’
‘I’ve only just arrived here,’ said Marmion. ‘The traffic was heavy on the drive here and I had to drop Sergeant Keedy at Maureen Quinn’s house.’
‘Have you seen this morning’s paper?’
‘I caught a glimpse, sir.’
‘It’s done the trick,’ said Chatfield, excitedly. ‘We’ve had a response. In fact, we’ve had several but most of them could be easily discounted as hoax calls. One of them, however, has the ring of truth about it.’
Marmion was alert. ‘That’s very gratifying, Superintendent,’ he said. ‘Have you received a tip-off about Herbert Wylie?’
‘The tip-off came from the best possible source.’
‘Oh — what’s that?’
‘It was from the man himself, of course. Having seen his name in the paper, he walked into the nearest police station and gave himself up.’
‘Are they
‘They are,’ said Chatfield, ‘and so am I. As he was being described to me, I was looking at that photograph you obtained from the works manager. In every detail, the description fitted him.’
‘What about his voice?’ asked Marmion. ‘If he came from Sheffield, he’d have had a Yorkshire accent.’
‘He’s got one.’
‘Where is he being held?’
‘He’s at Rochester police station. I think that congratulations are in order,’ the superintendent continued. ‘It was down to you and Sergeant Keedy that this man was identified. That was good detective work.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Marmion, savouring a rare compliment.
‘Well, off you go, then. Drive straight to Rochester and take this man into custody. When his confession has been verified and he’s been formally charged, I can release the information to the press.’ He gave a ripe chuckle. ‘Herbert Wylie is waiting for you. Go and get him.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
Staring at the notepad on the kitchen table, Neil Beresford was so engrossed in what he was doing that he didn’t hear the knock on the front door. It was only when there was a much louder knock that he sat upright. His mother had a key so it couldn’t be her and he wasn’t expecting any visitors. After the initial burst of sympathy from his immediate neighbours, he’d been left completely alone and he valued the freedom. His first thought was that it must be the detectives calling on him. When he opened the door, however, it was the anxious face of Jonah Jenks that confronted him.
‘Hello, Mr Beresford,’ said the visitor. ‘I wonder if I might have a word.’
‘Yes, yes, of course you can. Come on in, Mr Jenks.’
Jenks followed him into the kitchen and they sat on either side of the table. Since he’d only met the man once before, Beresford wondered why he’d called. Arrangements for the funerals had been finalised so there was no need for further discussion. Jenks seemed unwilling to explain the reason for his visit. Looking down at the notepad, he saw the list of names in a triangular pattern on the page.
‘I’ve obviously come at an inconvenient time,’ he said.
‘Not at all,’ said Beresford. ‘I was just working out the team for the cup final.’
Jenks was startled. ‘It’s still going ahead?’
‘My mind is set on it.’
‘But in the circumstances ….’
‘If we pull out now, we hand the cup to Woolwich and I’m damned if we’re going to do that. They’re going to have to fight for it. Mind you,’ he went on, ‘I really ought to give them an apology. When that bomb went off, I was too quick to think that they had something to do with it and it was wrong of me. According to Inspector Marmion, they had no connection with it at all. He sent some of his men to Woolwich to investigate and that was their conclusion.’
Jenks indicated the notepad. ‘Why are the names separated like that?’
‘I can see that you’re not a football fan, Mr Jenks.’
‘To be honest, I know very little about sport of any kind.’
‘This is the formation,’ explained Beresford, pointing to the names in turn. ‘We have the goalkeeper here at the back. Then we have two fullbacks with three halfbacks in front of them. These five players here are the forwards. As a result of what happened, I’ve been forced to make some changes.’
‘But you’ve still got one player left from that bomb blast,’ Jenks reminded him. ‘Maureen Quinn survived the explosion. I remember Enid telling me that she was a very good goalkeeper. At least, you have her in your team.’
‘No, I don’t. It would be too much to ask of her.’
‘But she might
‘She won’t have the chance,’ said Beresford. ‘For her own sake, I’m not selecting Maureen. The pressure on her would be immense. Now, then,’ he went on, ‘what did you come to see me about?’
Jenks cleared his throat. ‘It was that visit from the inspector.’
‘I thought he gave us good news. They have a suspect.’
‘Yes, but only because of his link with my daughter. Can you imagine how dreadful that makes me feel? I had no idea, Mr Beresford — none at all. What kind of father does that make me?’
‘Don’t be too hard on yourself,’ said Beresford, moved by his obvious distress. ‘It was something that Enid didn’t feel able to confide in you, that’s all.’
‘But why — what’s wrong with me?’
‘The fault may have been with her, Mr Jenks.’
‘She deceived me,’ said the other, solemnly. ‘That’s what I can’t accept. Enid was the soul of honesty yet she told me a lie to hide the fact that she was going out with this man.’
‘Perhaps she felt that you’d object.’
‘I most certainly would have done so.’
‘Then she was forced to deceive you.’
‘And look what her deception has led to!’ wailed Jenks. ‘If she’d felt able to approach me in the first place,
