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Authors: Edward Marston

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BOOK: Dance of Death
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She was jerked out of her introspection by the sound of an argument.

‘I just want to know why, Den, that’s all.’

‘It’s none of your business.’

‘We haven’t seen you for weeks.’

‘And you’re not going to see me ever again.’

‘Why – what have we done wrong?’

‘Bugger off!’

‘I thought we were
friends
.’

What Colette witnessed next was not an act of friendship. Her brother, Dennis, had been arguing with a stocky young man with one arm and a face pitted with scars. He showed no pity. Raising his walking stick, Dennis belaboured him unmercifully, driving him away. As he stumbled past Colette, the man was swearing volubly.

Colette was appalled. ‘Dennis – what have you done?’

‘Shut up and get inside the house.’

‘I heard what he said.’

‘Forget him, Colette.’

‘Was he one of the friends you went drinking with?’

‘It’s none of your business – now get inside.’

‘Why are you so angry with me?’

He had no chance to reply. The police car came hurtling around the corner and juddered to a halt outside the house. As soon as he saw Marmion and Keedy climbing out of the vehicle, Orme retreated into the house and slammed the door behind him. Colette was confused.

‘What’s going on?’ she asked.

‘We need to speak to your brother,’ said Marmion. ‘Do you have a key?’

She took one from her pocket. ‘Yes, it’s here.’

‘Thank you,’ said Marmion as she handed it to him. ‘You wait outside.’

He unlocked the front door and let Keedy go in first. Hearing noises from above, the sergeant went slowly up the stairs. When he reached the landing, he could go no further. Orme was standing there with a pistol in his hand.

‘Stand back!’ he ordered. ‘I know how to use this.’

‘Then why didn’t you shoot Simon Wilder with it?’

‘That bastard would have died too quickly. I used the butt to knock him out then gave him what he deserved. Do you know what he did to my sister?’

‘We’ve just been finding out, sir.’

‘And we understand why you were upset,’ added Marmion, coming up the stairs. ‘Mr Wilder made copies of a photograph that was taken of your sister. You must have become aware of it somehow.’

‘It was my own
friends
,’ shouted Orme in disgust. ‘One of them had bought it from someone and was showing it around. It was Colette. They were looking at my sister and saying what they’d like to do to her. I couldn’t stand that so I walked out on them for good.’ He gestured with the gun to make Keedy step back a pace. ‘Wilder was behind it. He’d taken photos of Colette before – proper photos, not the kind
they
were goggling at. So I went after him and I bided my time. He was never going to look at my sister with her clothes off ever again because I took out his eyes. And he was never going to
use
her for his … That’s why I cut off his balls as well. Don’t ask me to feel sorry for him. It’s what he
deserved
.’

‘Put that gun down,’ said Keedy, gently.

‘Stand back.’

‘It’s over now, Dennis. There’s no escape.’

‘I’m warning you,’ said Orme, pointing the weapon at his face.

‘Think of your sister. Is this how you want her to remember you?’

‘I only did it for Colette.’

Marmion had paused on a step. ‘And how does killing her instructor help your sister’s dancing career?’

‘You keep out of this, Inspector.’

‘What you did was done in a blind rage.’

‘I won’t tell you again.’

Orme pointed the gun at Marmion this time. Seeing his chance, Keedy dived forward and knocked Orme off his feet. There was a fierce struggle on the floor with neither man getting the upper hand. Marmion dashed up to the landing to help Keedy but he was too late. The gun went off with a fearsome bang and both men froze in position. There was a long, agonising pause.

‘Are you all right, Joe?’ asked Marmion, worriedly.

Keedy rolled off the dead body. ‘He shot himself,’ he said, gazing in horror at the blood all over his jacket, ‘and he ruined my best suit.’

 

Claude Chatfield was delighted that the murder of Simon Wilder had finally been solved though disappointed that the killer had escaped the hangman. Puritanical by nature, he was shocked by some of the aspects of the case and was anticipating some awkward questions at the imminent press conference. Meanwhile, he congratulated his detectives on their success.

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Marmion, ‘but the real praise should go to Sergeant Keedy. He risked his life by tackling an armed man.’

‘That won’t be forgotten,’ promised the superintendent.

‘I hope that it exonerates him.’

‘An act of bravery is always commendable, Inspector, but it won’t blind me to the fact that the sergeant behaved disgracefully towards me in this very office.’

‘I apologised for that, sir,’ said Keedy.

‘The matter is not yet settled.’

‘I’m ready to take my punishment.’

‘This is hardly the ideal moment,’ said Chatfield. ‘I’m just about to introduce you to the press as the heroes of the hour. How would it look if I told them that I was just about to discipline you for insubordination? It would seem petty of me. For the time being, Sergeant, you are safe.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘I’d like to add my thanks as well,’ said Marmion. ‘Nothing should take away the sergeant’s lustre at a time like this.’

Keedy saw a chance to use flattery, ‘You deserve some of the plaudits as well, Superintendent,’ he said. ‘I was so convinced of Redmond’s guilt that I brought him back here in handcuffs. Wisely, you had him released from custody.’

‘You didn’t appreciate my wisdom at the time,’ said Chatfield.

‘I’ll take care to do so in future, sir.’

‘That’s heartening. Going back to the murder victim, why did he rent that house in the name of Philip Clandon?’

‘Mrs Wilder had the answer to that, sir,’ said Marmion. ‘She and her future husband met when they were acting in a comedy by Bernard Shaw. It was called
You Never Can Tell
and the character played by Mr Wilder was a certain Philip Clandon. He decided to use the name again.’

‘I have another question for you, Inspector, and it’s one that will surely be directed at me in a short while, so I’d be grateful for an answer. What put you on to this fellow, Orme?’

‘It was his dedication, sir.’

‘Dedication?’

‘Dennis Orme was intensely proud of his sister. He’d made great
sacrifices for her. He’d do anything to further her dancing career. Then he saw a nude photograph of her being passed around his drunken friends in a pub and something snapped inside him. He wanted revenge against the man who took the photo.’

‘I thought he was disabled.’

‘He was stronger and more mobile than I thought,’ said Marmion. ‘When I first met him at the house, he put on a show of struggling along on his walking stick. As the sergeant found out, however, he could certainly defend himself.’

‘Yes,’ said Keedy, ‘he was powerful. I had to fight for all I was worth.’

‘The irony of it all is that the sister he idolised is the one who’ll suffer most now. Her dancing career is in ruins and she’ll be haunted by what her brother did. When she got back to the house, Dennis Orme was having an altercation with one of the people he used to go drinking with. Orme had cut himself off from them. On the night of the murder, he’d told Colette, he’d got so drunk that he’d slept at the house of a friend. In fact, of course,’ said Marmion, ‘he was stalking Simon Wilder.’

Chatfield looked at his watch. ‘Time to go, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘Tomorrow morning, your names will be all over the newspapers and I can tell you now what the most popular headline will be.’

‘So can I, sir –
DANCE OF DEATH
.’

 

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E
DWARD
M
ARSTON
was born and brought up in South Wales. A full-time writer for over forty years, he has worked in radio, film, television and theatre, and is a former chairman of the Crime Writers’ Association.

 

www.edwardmarston.com

T
HE
H
OME
F
RONT
D
ETECTIVE SERIES

A Bespoke Murder • Instrument of Slaughter

Five Dead Canaries • Deeds of Darkness • Dance of Death

 

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 Stationmaster’s Farewell • Peril on the Royal Train

A Ticket to Oblivion • Timetable of Death

Inspector Colbeck’s Casebook:

Thirteen Tales from the Railway Detective

The Railway Detective Omnibus:

The Railway Detective, The Excursion Train, The Railway Viaduct

 

T
HE
C
APTAIN
R
AWSON SERIES

Soldier of Fortune • Drums of War • Fire and Sword

Under Siege • A Very Murdering Battle

 

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
B
RACEWELL
M
YSTERIES

The Queen’s Head • The Merry Devils • The Trip to Jerusalem

The Nine Giants • The Mad Courtesan • The Silent Woman

The Roaring Boy • The Laughing Hangman • The Fair Maid of Bohemia

The Wanton Angel • The Devil’s Apprentice • The Bawdy Basket

The Vagabond Clown • The Counterfeit Crank

The Malevolent Comedy • The Princess of Denmark

 

T
HE
B
OW
S
TREET
R
IVALS SERIES

Shadow of the Hangman

Allison & Busby Limited
12 Fitzroy Mews
London W1T 6DW
allisonandbusby.com

First published in Great Britain by Allison & Busby in 2015.
This ebook edition first published in 2015.

Copyright © 2015 by E
DWARD
M
ARSTON

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

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 978–0–7490–1844–3

BOOK: Dance of Death
7.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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