Dead of Winter

Billy nodded. ‘So it wasn’t a case of her thinking some man was after her. Someone she might have cause to be afraid of.’

‘No, I don’t think so. She didn’t feel she was in danger.’

‘But this bloke was after her, all the same. He was waiting round the corner till she moved on. Is that what you’re saying?’

‘It’s possible.’ Madden had nodded slowly. ‘After her. Rosa. That’s the point.’ He had looked up at Billy then. ‘I know there’s an argument for calling it a chance killing, but I don’t accept that. It’s already been established the act was deliberate, and I can’t see it happening in a moment of rage, or insanity. It was too cold; too clean; too efficient. The killer knew what he was about.’

The silence that fell between them was broken by the sound of tapping, and they’d looked round to see Helen at the car window. She was pointing to her wristwatch.

‘But as to why he murdered her.’ Madden shook his head hopelessly as he turned away. ‘That defies all reason.’

The service had ended, but the mourners still clustered around the rabbi, a young man with a bushy beard, whose voice as he intoned Kaddish had reached Madden only faintly where he was standing beside the cart that had carried Rosa Nowak’s remains down the gravelled path to the graveside. More clearly heard had been the ‘amens’ which had punctuated his low, sing-song murmur.

As Madden watched, Helen detached herself from the group and crossed the path to where he was standing.

‘I managed to have a word with Mrs Laski. She won’t need a lift back to her flat. She’s going to spend the rest of the day with friends in Hampstead. One of them is a doctor. He has a car.’

Helen slipped a gloved hand through her husband’s arm. Although the sleet had stopped falling, a keen wind still blew across the open expanse of the cemetery and she had covered her head with a woollen scarf, tucking the ends into her coat, which was buttoned to the neck.

‘I think we can slip away now. I’d like to stop off at St John’s Wood for an hour before we go back. I must see how Aunt Maud’s getting on. I’m sure Billy won’t mind dropping us off. Where is he, by the way?’

The two men had been standing together, a little apart from the others.

‘He’s gone back to the car.’ Madden nodded towards the gates. ‘His driver said they were trying to get hold of him on the radio. Some message from the Yard.’

He watched for a moment as the group at the graveside began to break up. Two men armed with shovels moved forward to begin the task of filling in the grave.

‘Do I need to say anything to Mrs Laski?’ he asked.

‘No, I don’t think so. I told her we’d be in touch with her again soon. Let’s leave it at that for now.’

They started up the long path towards the gates, soon overtaking the more elderly mourners ahead of them, and as they approached the exit to the cemetery they saw Billy appear. He was walking rapidly, and when he saw them he waved.

‘Sir …’ he called out to them as he came nearer.

‘What is it?’ Madden raised his voice in reply.

‘A message from Bow Street …’ Breathing hard, Billy came up to them. Madden halted, with Helen on his arm. ‘They’ve got a lead, sir.’

‘A lead?’ Madden’s voice was calm. But beside him, Helen felt his arm grow tense.

‘I don’t have the details. The message came through the radio room at Central. But Bow Street have found a witness. A good one, too. She’s at the station now.’ Billy was still panting.

‘Then you’ll want to get down there right away.’ Madden’s response was prompt. ‘Don’t worry about us. We’re going to stop off at St John’s Wood. We’ll find our own way there.’

‘No, it’s not that, sir. I can drop Dr Madden off if she likes. It’s on the way. But I thought …’ Billy paused. ‘Well, you might like to come with me.’

‘To Bow Street?’ Madden’s surprise was plain.

‘That’s right, sir.’ A grin had appeared on the younger man’s face.

‘But why …?’ Madden glanced at Helen beside him.

‘Because it seems only fair.’ Billy’s smile had broadened. ‘After what you were saying only an hour ago.’

‘What I was saying?’

‘That it was odds on the man who killed Rosa was following her.’

‘Yes …? And …?’ Madden’s gaze was piercing now. Billy gave a shrug.

‘Well, it seems you were right.’

6

Lofty cook shook his head ruefully.

‘This is a real stroke of luck, I can tell you.’

His remark was addressed to Billy, but he spared a glance for Madden, who was beside him.

‘It came out of the blue, too. The first I knew of it was a call from Poole. She rang the station to say she was bringing Florrie in. That’s when I phoned the Yard, looking for you.’

‘Poole?’ Billy asked.

‘That WPC I told you about.’

‘The one who responded to the warden’s whistle? The first officer at the scene?’ Billy nodded. ‘I remember now.’

They were standing in the corridor outside the interview room at the Bow Street police station. Alerted by the desk sergeant, Cook had come out to meet them, shutting the door behind him. If he’d been surprised to see Madden there he gave no sign of it. ‘I heard you were coming up for the funeral, sir,’ he’d said, as they shook hands. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’

He’d told them then who the witness was he’d been questioning.

‘Florence Desmoulins is the name on her papers, but we know her as French Florrie and we’ve had her on our books since ’thirty-eight. She’s got a pitch in Soho Square, but the night of Rosa’s murder she was in Tottenham Court Road tube station taking shelter after the sirens went off and that’s where she saw her. Saw Rosa.’

He explained how the streetwalker had come to their notice.

‘When we started showing Rosa’s photograph around, Poole made a point of checking with the tarts. It was her idea. She reckons they’re more observant than most.’

‘Yes, but why has it taken so long to find this Florrie?’ Billy asked. He and Lofty had lit cigarettes and were dropping their ash on the bare wooden floor. ‘The murder was a week ago.’

‘She was off sick for a few days. With a head cold, she says. Poole spotted her this morning shopping in Oxford Street and showed her Rosa’s photo. Florrie said it was the same woman she saw in the tube station.’

‘And you’re happy with that?’

‘Oh, I think so, sir.’ Cook nodded. ‘Florrie saw her close up.’

‘What about this man she says was following Rosa?’

‘We were just getting into that when I heard you were here.’ The Bow Street inspector eyed them both. ‘But even from what little she’s told me I’d say he was our bloke. What I suggest is I fill you in first on what happened earlier, how she spotted Rosa, then we’ll go in and get her to tell us the rest.’

He trod on his cigarette.

‘When the sirens sounded the first time, Florrie ran over to the tube station, but they went off again a few minutes later and no one seemed sure at first what it meant, whether it was the all-clear, or what. Actually, it was a false alarm, but people were milling about for a while. Florrie herself was at the bottom of the stairs, trying to decide whether it was safe to go out again, when this young woman went by her. She was carrying something in each hand, just like Rosa was, and as she worked her way through the crowd they came face to face. That’s why Florrie’s so sure it was her. Anyway, she went up the steps, this girl who must have been Rosa, and a few seconds later Florrie followed.