A Liverpool Legacy (28 page)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Marcus didn’t sleep too well but he was up early on Monday morning. He’d been making his own breakfast since Elvira had left, and as he would be on the train at lunchtime and most didn’t have restaurant cars these days, he needed a substantial one. He found two eggs in the kitchen as well as sausages, and he fried them all. This was not the moment to think of rations.

He switched on the wireless to listen to the news while he ate. His fork stayed poised between his plate and his mouth when he heard the announcer say, ‘Four pilots have been arrested and charged with flying stolen aircraft out of the country. It is understood the planes were sold to Eastern Bloc countries. The thefts occurred between March and May last year and the arrests were made possible by liaison between Interpol, the Air Force Police, and British civilian police forces. More arrests are expected to follow.’

Marcus was so shocked he allowed egg yolk to drip on his tie. He’d heard Greg Livingstone laugh about the effrontery shown by those pilots and he was a great friend of ex-Flying Officer Gilbert Robertson who was dangerously reckless. Marcus was ready to bet Greg had had a hand in making the arrangements and he was in no doubt now that the net was closing in on them all.

He couldn’t eat another mouthful. Dropping his knife and fork on his plate, he switched off the wireless and shot upstairs, in the grip of abject terror. He felt pursued by a thousand fears as he remembered seeing a military policeman in the Sailors’ Return holding forth to Millie on that snowy afternoon; he was afraid she already knew he was caught up in a web of criminal activity.

He was very tempted to drive straight down to Stapleton’s garage, ditch the car and get them to take him straight to the station. But no, it would be safer to stick to what he’d told Pa and Nigel he was going to do. He needed to have the police sent off on a wild goose chase if they did return.

He knew he had to keep his wits about him and stay calm. He put on his coat and went out to his car, but as he drove he was writhing in emotional turmoil. He went up to his office in the turret but couldn’t remember what he’d come here to do. He phoned down to the kitchen to get a cup of tea.

It took him the best part of an hour to find the file Nigel had asked for. He’d done very little of the job and couldn’t face his brother while he was shaking like this. Instead, he took it to the typing pool and asked the nearest girl to deliver it to Nigel in the boardroom.

Marcus wouldn’t have gone anywhere near Millie but she was talking to the sales manager at the head of the stairs as he retraced his steps. She broke off and said, ‘Can I have a word with you, Marcus? There’s something I’d like to show you.’

What could he do but follow her through the lab to her desk? She pushed a trade periodical in front of him. The print danced before his eyes. He had to ask, ‘What’s this?’

‘It’s a company advertising for another to merge with. The name is Arthur Hampton and Sons.’ She sat down. ‘Do you know them?’ He stared blankly down at her. ‘I’ve had a word with Andrew Worthington about it and he says we buy raw soap from them, and their business might be a fit with ours.’

‘Merge with them? Why?’ Marcus tried to focus on what she was saying; his mouth was dry and his tongue felt too big. There was no way he could get his head round merger problems now, he couldn’t care less. Was she making a play to gain more shares or more power in their business? He didn’t care about that either. His head was reeling. The lab was beginning to spin slowly round him.

Millie was staring up at him. ‘Does this business belong to your wife’s family? I’m afraid I don’t remember her maiden name.’

Elvira’s maiden name? He couldn’t remember it either. He pushed her periodical back at her. ‘It isn’t this. It’s nothing to do with her.’

‘Still, it might be an idea to discuss a merger with Nigel. What d’you think?’

He couldn’t grapple with this. He said, ‘I saw you with a military policeman. In the pub across the road that day it was snowing. What was he saying to you?’

Her face, confused and shocked, eddied past him. ‘What’s he got to do with this?’

‘Was he talking about me? He was, wasn’t he?’ Millie had been tormenting him for ages and he was going to let her have it. He lunged for her throat and he heard her scream. For once he had the upper hand. She was trying to fight him off but he was twice her weight. Suddenly, she jerked her knee up to his groin with all her might. He gasped and the pain almost made him let go. He caught a glimpse of her face, there was terror in her eyes, she was frightened of him. Good, he wasn’t going to let her get the better of him, not this time.

She screamed at him, ‘Marcus, what the hell d’you think you’re doing?’

He swung her office chair round and got her head down on her desk but she was screaming and screaming. He took a firmer grasp on her neck and banged her head twice. He hated her, she thought she was so clever and she’d made him feel a fool.

Suddenly, something that felt like an animal pounced on him from behind the racks of jars and demijohns. It weighed a ton and knocked him off balance. Not an animal, he was being hauled away from Millie. He fell back, catching a glimpse of a white coat before he cracked his head on the desk. Marcus struggled upright, gasping for breath, his head was reeling and it hurt. He felt dizzy, and now there were two white coats swinging round him. It was the new woman they had working in the lab, she looked as ferocious as her son. He had to get away.

He tried to turn but tripped and fell against her desk. He pulled himself upright again and hurtled down the lab. In the corridor, men were coming towards him with arms outstretched, trying to stop him. ‘Out of my way,’ he roared.

A familiar face yelled at him, ‘For God’s sake stop.’

Marcus aimed a punch at his nose that hurt his knuckles and skidded on down the stairs at breakneck pace. He had to get to his car. He banged his shoulder on the front door but he was through it and outside. Cold, wet rain blew in his face; he’d left his raincoat in his office but, no matter, his keys were in his jacket pocket.

He almost fell into the driving seat and started the engine, but men were streaming across the car park after him. He locked his car door and headed it towards the exit. Albert Lancaster was standing in front of him and waving him down. Marcus jerked on the steering wheel to avoid him and scraped along the wing of an Austin 12, before he rolled out on to the street and turned down-river towards the Pier Head. His lovely car would be damaged but he had to sell it anyway.

He couldn’t see very well, something was blinding him. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and saw it was coated with blood. He squinted at a heavy dray coming towards him being pulled by two carthorses. The driver was staring at him with his mouth open, looking shocked. Marcus whizzed passed with inches to spare.

At least he’d got away from all those people who were chasing him. He was on course for the garage, all he had to do now was to sell his car and get the 11.42 train to Dover. He drove another couple of miles but he couldn’t see again. He switched on the windscreen wipers but it didn’t help much.

Blood was dripping into his eyes and he caught a glimpse of a large truck chugging towards him. He knew he was too far over to the right on the road, and tried to correct it as he felt in his pocket for his handkerchief. The crash when it came wrenched the steering wheel out of his hand. The screech of metal scraping on metal was deafening, somebody was screaming. His head crashed against the steering wheel and was then flung painfully backwards and a searing pain shot up his leg.

Chapter Thirty

Nigel was in the boardroom dictating letters to his secretary Louise Lambert when his concentration was broken by the noise outside in the corridor.

‘What’s that?’ he barked, but he knew because he’d heard something similar before. Was Marcus having another fight with Billy Sankey? Horrified, Nigel rushed to the door to find out. Pandemonium raged in the corridors, every office door was open and desks were being deserted.

Nigel stood back and roared, ‘What is the matter? What is going on?’

Frightened faces turned towards him. ‘It’s Marcus,’ he heard from several lips. ‘He’s tried to strangle Millie.’

Nigel’s jaw dropped, he felt sick. Had Marcus taken leave of his senses? He pushed through the crowd to the lab.

Millie was coughing and spluttering. Her desk was surrounded. Her screams had brought others running from nearby offices. Denis was trying to explain what had happened and they were all firing questions.

‘Marcus attacked Millie? What did he do?’

‘Millie, how d’you feel?’

She was coughing so much she found it hard to get the words out. ‘I can’t get my breath, he’s hurt my throat.’

‘You sound hoarse.’

‘Where is he?’

‘He’s gone, he ran away like a scalded cat.’

‘Heavens, Millie.’ Billy Sankey pushed himself over to her and lifted her head up to look at her neck. ‘He tried to strangle you. We should get you to a doctor.’

‘I’ll be all right.’

Billy said, ‘I was afraid he might turn on you. You took my part against him.’

‘Mum!’ Sylvie came and threw her arms round her. ‘I told you Marcus was going mad, now d’you believe me? He’s out of his mind. What did he do to you?’

‘He grabbed my throat.’ Millie coughed. ‘My head hurts too. He banged it on my desk.’

‘We should get the doctor.’

‘I’m all right now.’

A glass of water appeared in front of her. Millie could see Nigel had come and was looking down at her, and the story had to be told again from the beginning.

‘I can’t believe it.’ He sounded shocked.

‘It’s true enough,’ Billy Sankey assured him. ‘Look at his finger marks on her neck. He must have put some force behind them to do that. I think the police should be informed, this is serious bodily harm.’

‘No,’ Nigel said, ‘I don’t think we should, it would be bad publicity for the business. We should all calm down.’

Sylvie said furiously, ‘Who cares about the publicity? He would have killed Mum if Denis hadn’t stopped him. He saved her life.’

Billy said, ‘I’m going to ring the police straight away. The man’s damn dangerous. He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this. First me and now you, missus. Who knows who he’ll go for next? He could kill somebody.’

‘No, wait,’ Nigel protested. ‘Let’s think carefully before . . .’

Billy pushed past him and others sided with him. ‘This is a police matter. He shouldn’t be allowed to go on working here.’

‘He never did much work.’

‘Where’s he gone?’

Tom Bedford had just joined them. ‘He came rushing downstairs as if he was being chased, almost knocked me over.’

‘But where’s he gone?’

‘Mum, I’ll take you home,’ Sylvie said. ‘You won’t feel like work now.’

‘Millie shouldn’t drive after that. She should see a doctor.’

Sylvie said, ‘We came on the bus this morning.’

‘Millie, I’ll drive you home,’ Nigel offered.

‘I’m all right now,’ Millie put in. ‘Don’t make so much fuss. I think I should stay here if Billy’s calling the police in. They’ll want to talk to me.’

‘The colour is coming back into your face,’ Geraldine agreed. ‘You’re sure you’re all right?’

‘I’ll be fine. I just need to sit here quietly for a while.’

Tom Bedford began to herd his colleagues out. ‘Give her space. Millie needs air.’

‘What can I do that will help?’ Sylvie wanted to know.

‘A cup of tea,’ Millie coughed. ‘I’d love a cup of tea.’

She felt as though she’d been mangled and was glad to be left alone to recover. Her neck was sore and her heart was still thumping, she’d really believed for an awful minute that Marcus was going to kill her.

In the past, she’d occasionally caught him looking at her with such fixed intensity that it made her feel uncomfortable, and she’d often been nervous when she was alone with him, but nothing had prepared her for an attack like that. She’d really thought her end was coming and she’d been terrified. She’d seen black hate for her on his face. But why had he asked about the military policeman at the pub? Did he know she’d spoken to Jeff Wills and put the police on his trail?

Nigel was furious with his brother. Recently he’d been acting queerly and he was nervous about what Millie was going to tell police. He didn’t want Marcus to get into more trouble and this was the second time he’d caused a fracas in the office. He was making their side of the family look like dangerous fools. Things were going very wrong.

He went out to the car park, meaning to drive over to see his father. He had to involve him or he’d be upset and angry when he found out later. He had difficulty reaching his car, the car park was heaving with their employees. All were excited, aghast even, at the scratches Marcus had inflicted on several cars as he’d driven recklessly out.

‘He was like a mad thing,’ they shouted. ‘Look what he’s done to the gatepost!’

Nigel had to raise his voice above the noise they were making. ‘Go back to work, all of you,’ he bellowed. His hand shook as he opened the door of his car. He was shaking with fury as he edged his way out of the car park and drove upriver towards Maplethorpe. He arrived as his father was coming downstairs, and Dando was taking his morning coffee to the sitting room. ‘Shall I bring you a cup, sir?’ he asked.

‘No, I don’t want coffee.’ Nigel threw himself down on the sofa. ‘Pa, Marcus has attacked Millie.’

His father didn’t seem to hear, he was already angry with Marcus. ‘I don’t know what Marcus is playing at, wanting his holiday on the spur of the moment, wanting to go chasing off after that wife of his. Do you know what he did this morning? He cooked all our rations, all the food we had in the house, for his own breakfast and then he didn’t eat it. Dando found a plateful of fried eggs congealing on the kitchen table. You can guess what my breakfast had to be, Dando had to warm up the food Marcus had left to make a sandwich for me. There was nothing else to eat in the house.’

‘Pa, he tried to strangle Millie. He caused an uproar in the office and then shot off like a bat out of hell.’

‘Strangle Millie? I’ve often felt like doing that myself. I’d like to strangle both of them.’

‘Please be serious, Pa. How can we run the business when he’s causing mayhem? I’m sick of him, he’s out of control.’

‘Well, there’s not much I can do about that,’ his father said. ‘I blame Elvira. Perhaps he’ll be better when he’s had his holiday.’

Nigel did not hold out much hope of that. He was no sooner back at his desk than Miss Lambert came in to let him know that two uniformed policemen had arrived. ‘Show them in,’ he said, thankful that the staff were now back at their desks and the office quiet.

The officers introduced themselves and showed him their identity cards. One took out a notebook.

The more senior of the two said, ‘We received a phone call from a member of your staff saying that your brother went berserk and showed extreme violence towards a Mrs Millie Maynard and would have killed her if another member of staff hadn’t intervened.’

Nigel played down the events as much as he could to protect his brother and avoid bad publicity for the business. The officers asked to speak to Billy so Nigel sent Miss Lambert to get him.

Billy appeared, looking dishevelled and angry. He was sweating and too agitated to tell the story clearly, swearing and stumbling over his words and showing his personal hatred of Marcus. He didn’t come over well.

They turned to Nigel and said, ‘And following this episode your brother ran out of the building and disappeared? Do you know where he could have gone?’

‘He’d arranged to take a fortnight’s holiday starting today and said he was going to see his wife.’ They asked for Elvira’s address. ‘She’s staying with her parents in Rochdale.’ He gave them the address. Then they wanted to talk to Millie so Nigel led them along the corridor to the lab.

Millie looked unusually white-faced and she still had vivid red marks on her neck. She made no fuss about what had happened and simply recounted what had taken place. Nigel was glad to see there wasn’t much the matter with her. As he was seeing the policemen out, it occurred to him that they had shown more concern for Millie than he had. To remedy that he said, ‘Perhaps I should ask the doctor to check her over, make sure she’s all right.’

‘I would,’ the senior one said.

As soon as he’d seen them off the premises, Nigel went back to his office to ring the doctor the company used for medicals and accidents. He practised on his own from a surgery at the end of the road and his wife acted as his receptionist.

She picked up the receiver. ‘He’s already on his way,’ she said. ‘A Mr Denis Knowles asked him to call and see Millie.’

That made Nigel scowl but he hoped the matter would now blow over, and as it was lunchtime he put on his coat and set off to the Sailor’s Return for a whisky to settle his nerves. However, as he was crossing the car park another police car pulled in and two different officers got out. Nigel’s first thought was that the police had started to hassle him. He strode up to them and said with icy politeness, ‘Can I help you?’

‘We’ve come about a Mr Marcus Maynard,’ he was told. ‘We understand he has relatives working in this business.’

‘Yes, I am his brother,’ he said shortly, worried now about what else Marcus had done.

‘Could we go inside? Somewhere—’

‘No,’ he was impatient, ‘I’m just on my way out.’

‘Oh. I’m afraid we have some bad news for you, Mr Maynard. Your brother has had an accident.’

He snorted with contempt; after what Marcus had done, he might have guessed. ‘I suppose he’s crashed his car.’

‘Yes, I’m afraid so, a bad accident.’

‘And he’s hurt?’

‘I’m sorry to tell you, Mr Maynard, that it was a fatal crash.’

Suddenly, Nigel was aware of the strength ebbing from his knees, he felt near to collapse. ‘What? He’s dead?’ He found that hard to believe. ‘Are you sure it’s him?’ The police officer put out a hand to steady him. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Yes, we’re sure it is him. He had his passport on him and there were documents in the car showing this firm’s letter heading.’

‘My brother was going to Rochdale. Why would he need his passport?’

‘We don’t know, sir, but it was in his pocket. To make quite sure, we would like you to identify him, but as I said, there isn’t much doubt.’

‘Right, then I might as well do that now,’ Nigel said.

‘Well, we thought tomorrow morning, sir. He’s only just been taken to the morgue.’

Nigel shuddered, he didn’t want to think about that; the inference was that they didn’t want him to see Marcus yet because he needed to be cleaned up and made presentable. ‘So where did this accident happen?’

‘In Regent Road in Bootle, some three miles or so from here. Do you know it?’

‘No, not really. Is it near the docks?’

‘Yes, near Huskisson Dock.’

‘Could you take me to see the place?’

The police officer was showing reluctance. ‘Well, we don’t really advise it.’

‘Take me please,’ he ordered.

The traffic was quite heavy but before long Nigel could see the large six-wheeler truck slewed across the road. The roof of the car was half under the front of the truck, squashed almost flat; the truck’s momentum had carried it several yards. The ice-blue paintwork or what was left of it was unmistakable, it was definitely Marcus’s Jaguar.

Nigel felt sick, hot acid rushed into his throat. ‘Was anybody else hurt?’

‘Not badly hurt, but the truck driver was taken to hospital. He was badly shocked. The officer opened his notebook and read: ‘The driver was shouting, “The bugger came straight for me. There was nothing I could do.” ’

Nigel closed his eyes and swallowed hard. ‘Oh God! Poor Marcus.’

Millie was feeling a little better by the time Geraldine brought the doctor to her desk. ‘Hello,’ she said. She knew him as she’d had dealings with him over the years. ‘I think I’ll be all right, there was no need to call you out.’

‘Well, as I’m here I might as well take a look at you,’ he told her. He shone a torch down her throat and examined her neck. ‘I think you’re right, Mrs Maynard. Your throat will be sore and your neck will look bruised for a while, but there’s no great damage done and nature will heal it.’

‘I tried to tell them,’ Millie said.

‘Take frequent hot drinks and a couple of aspirin to ease the pain.’

‘I think you should go home.’ Billy Sankey had not gone away. ‘You can’t possibly settle to work after that. I’ll take you. You’ve had enough for one day. Sylvie should come too to look after you.’

‘I don’t need looking after,’ Millie said. But she allowed him to drive her and Sylvie home. It had been an awful day, everybody had rallied round but she’d really missed Andrew and wished he’d been at work.

Nigel was back working in the office when his father rang him. ‘The police are here asking questions about Marcus,’ he said. ‘They want to speak to you too. Can you come here now?’

This irritated Nigel. ‘For goodness sake! Marcus is dead, why can’t they leave us in peace?’

‘You’d better come,’ James told him, his voice serious. ‘It seems Marcus was up to all sorts of tricks. They think you and I could be involved too.’

‘What nonsense. What sort of tricks?’

‘Worse than anything I thought possible. I asked the police not to go to the office to question you, we don’t want this talked about. You had better come here.’

Nigel was angry. ‘They have no business to keep on at us like this,’ he retorted.

‘Come home now,’ James ordered.

Nigel went.

‘What is it?’ he asked when his father opened the front door to him.

‘Elvira has been arrested and is being questioned in the police station.’