A Bespoke Murder (34 page)

‘I still think we should get rid of him altogether,’ said Arnold.

‘Oh, no – that would be letting him off the hook. I’m going to keep the swine alive so that we can make him
suffer
.’

He called for the bill, paid it and left a generous tip. Then the two
of them got up and headed for the door. As they came down the steps into Regent Street, they saw a car draw up at the kerb. Burridge took no notice of it until Marmion and Keedy got out and intercepted them on the pavement. Marmion raised his hat.

‘Good evening, sir,’ he said, glancing at the Café Royal. ‘This is a step up from a park bench, isn’t it?’ He turned to Arnold. ‘This is your son, I gather. When we called at the house, we were told that you’d be here.’ Burridge was silent. ‘Well, since your father won’t introduce us, Arnold, we’ll have to do it ourselves. I’m Inspector Marmion and this,’ he went on, indicating his companion, ‘is Sergeant Keedy.’

‘We’d like you to accompany us to Scotland Yard,’ said Keedy.

‘Why?’ demanded Burridge.

‘There are lots of reasons, sir. We could start off by discussing a fire at Mr Stone’s warehouse that never took place because we were able to arrest the people you paid to start it.’

Arnold was startled but Burridge remained cool.

‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, Sergeant,’ he said.

‘Then let’s try something else,’ suggested Marmion. ‘We can talk about the murder of Jacob Stein by someone who remained concealed on the premises until the mob arrived.’ His eyes flicked to Arnold. ‘We’ve every reason to believe that
you
were the killer.’

Burridge turned white and Arnold immediately looked for an escape. Pushing Marmion away with both hands, he darted off along the pavement, dodging people as he did so. Keedy was quickly in pursuit. Arnold was young and relatively fit but he’d just eaten a large meal and drunk a lot of champagne. He soon felt the effects of his indulgence. Keedy was gaining on him with every stride. In desperation, the tailor dashed across the road and almost collided with a van. Keedy went after him. By the time Arnold turned into Piccadilly, the sergeant was close
enough to hurl himself forward onto the tailor’s back, causing him to stagger then fall forwards to the ground. His forehead hit the pavement with a thud and he was completely dazed. Before he knew what was happening, Arnold was handcuffed and lifted to his feet. Keedy marched him back to the car in which an ashen Burridge was already sitting. A night of celebration had turned into a day of reckoning.

Eating out was a rare treat for Ellen Marmion. The restaurant could not compete with the Café Royal but the meal was delicious and, more importantly, she didn’t have to cook it. The wine was exceptional. Also at the table were her husband, her daughter and Joe Keedy. It was the evening after the investigation had finally been concluded and all the loose ends had at last been tied up.

‘The commissioner was thrilled with our success,’ said Marmion, ‘and couldn’t stop congratulating us.’

‘Who actually committed the murder?’ asked Alice.

‘It was Arnold Burridge, whose father used to work at the shop. It turns out that Arnold was due to join him there but was turned down at the last moment. That really rankled with Cyril Burridge. It was the latest in a long line of broken promises.’

‘Yes,’ said Keedy, taking over. ‘Burridge was without question the finest tailor there and Mr Stein knew it. He offered to take him into partnership and bring Arnold into the firm as well. Neither of those things happened.’

‘Why not?’ asked Ellen.

‘They believed it was because Jacob Stein had betrayed them. Wanting their revenge, they tailored what they thought was a perfect murder. Aware of the riots caused by the
Lusitania
tragedy, Burridge hired some extremists called the True British League to loot and burn down the 
premises. His son, meanwhile, was hidden in the attic, waiting for his chance to come down and stab Mr Stein to death.

‘If he’d used a gun,’ explained Marmion, ‘the shot would have been heard, so he chose a knife instead. He’d got into the premises at night with duplicate keys made from David Cohen’s set. Cyril Burridge had “borrowed” them when the manager wasn’t looking.’

‘They planned ahead very carefully,’ said Keedy. ‘Arnold waited until Ruth Stein had run out of the office before he went into it and murdered her father. And he had a piece of extraordinary luck.’

‘The safe was open,’ continued Marmion, ‘so he helped himself to the contents. He not only got away with a lot of money, he also took documents that proved Mr Stein was no longer the sole proprietor of the firm. He’d been bought out by his brother, who made all decisions affecting the business from the shadows.’

‘I see,’ said Alice. ‘It was Mr Stone who prevented Mr Burridge from becoming a partner. He refused to promote him because he wasn’t a Jew. ’

‘He also refused to give him a large pay rise that had been promised as a reward for long service.’

‘What a dreadful man!’

‘The Burridges didn’t realise how dreadful he was until they read through the documents in the safe. Stone was the real villain, not his brother. From that point on,’ said Marmion, ‘they turned their attention to Herbert Stone. With the money from the safe, they were able to employ the True British League again. Its members would stop at nothing, as Joe can tell you.’

‘I joined them myself for a few days,’ recalled Keedy, ‘and I can’t say I liked it. They were vile people, led by a disgraced lawyer, Simon Higlett, who’d fallen foul of his Jewish colleagues and blamed them
for all the things he did wrong. He and his cronies got their pleasure from attacking Jewish families indiscriminately. Some of the leaflets they put out were disgusting. They made me feel sick. Thank God we’ve stopped them in their tracks.’

‘What will happen to them, Joe?’ wondered Alice.

‘Four of them will serve long prison sentences for arson,’ he replied, ‘and Ernie Gill will go back to Liverpool to stand trial for murder.’

‘Cyril and Arnold Burridge will be hanged,’ said Marmion.

‘When did you suspect
them
, Daddy?’

‘There were two things, Alice. I caught Burridge looking at the burnt-out building with an air of satisfaction when he had no reason to be there. The second thing was his smugness. I met him in Green Park today and he had the complacency of a man so certain he can’t be linked to the crimes that he can afford to be rude to the detective in charge of the investigation. I felt taunted,’ said Marmion, ‘and that confirmed my suspicions.’

‘Think of the wife,’ said Ellen with a rush of sympathy. ‘I can’t believe that Mrs Burridge was involved, yet she has to watch her husband and her son being sent to the gallows. How could any woman cope with two horrible blows like that?’

‘You could do it,’ teased Marmion. ‘After all, it’s no worse than having a daughter who joins the Women’s Emergency Corps and leaves home. Those were two horrible blows for
you
.’

‘Harvey!’ exclaimed Ellen, slapping him playfully.

The dessert course arrived and they started to eat it. Marmion enjoyed his pudding but, after the excitement of the investigation, he felt rather flat. Keedy had shared his sense of disappointment but his spirits were soon revived when his foot accidentally nudged Alice’s toe under the table. Instead of moving her foot back, she kept it where it
was, nestling against his shoe. The meal was suddenly operating at two levels. Four of them were joining in a pleasant celebration and two of them had started a silent dialogue of their own below the table.

Marmion raised his glass. ‘I think we should toast Alice,’ he said. ‘She’s made two momentous decisions in the past week and we should wish her well in her new life.’

‘I’ll drink to that,’ said Ellen, snatching up her glass and making it clear that she had no recriminations about what her daughter had decided. ‘To Alice and her future!’

‘To Alice and her future,’ echoed the men in tandem.

‘Thank you,’ said Alice, laughing happily.

‘We’ll support you in whatever you do,’ said Marmion.

‘Yes,’ said Ellen, warmly, ‘and I’m sorry if I was too maternal. I promise that I won’t try to interfere again. I’ve learnt my lesson, Alice. I can’t live your life for you.’

Keedy wondered what Ellen would think if she could see below the table. Alice had just kicked off her shoe and was stroking his ankle with her foot. He was content. He’d not only joined in the toast to Alice’s future, he was determined to be a major part of it.

By Edward Marston

T
HE
H
OME
F
RONT
D
ETECTIVE
SERIES
 

A Bespoke Murder 

T
HE
R
AILWAY
D
ETECTIVE
SERIES

The Railway Detective

The Excursion Train

The Railway Viaduct

The Iron Horse

Murder on the Brighton Express

The Silver Locomotive Mystery

Railway to the Grave

Blood on the Line

The Railway Detective Omnibus:
The Railway Detective, The Excursion Train, The Railway Viaduct 

T
HE
R
ESTORATION
SERIES

The King’s Evil

The Amorous Nightingale

The Repentant Rake

The Frost Fair

The Parliament House

The Painted Lady 

T
HE
C
APTAIN
R
AWSON
SERIES

Soldier of Fortune

Drums of War

Fire and Sword

Under Siege

A Very Murdering Battle

Copyright 

Allison & Busby Limited
13 Charlotte Mews
London W1T 4EJ
www.allisonandbusby.com

Copyright © 2011 by E
DWARD
M
ARSTON

The moral right of the Author is hereby asserted in accordance with the Copyright Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Hardcover published in Great Britain in 2011.
This ebook edition first published in 2011.

All characters and events in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978–0–7490–400–0