Free A Bespoke Murder by Edward Marston

me.’
    ‘I don’t think so, Sidney. According to him, he spent the evening with his girlfriend. That was before I got him to admit the lie. Then he named you as being with him and the rest of that mob.’
    ‘Don’t listen to Tommy,’ said the other, contemptuously. ‘He makes things up.’
    ‘Then the pair of you have something in common. Right,’ said Keedy, rubbing his hands, ‘where are we? You don’t really know Brian Coley and Tommy Rudge is a liar. Is that what you’re saying?’
    Timpson glared at him. ‘Yeah, it is.’
    ‘Then there must be some mistake in our records.’
    ‘Eh?’
    ‘You’ve been a bad boy, Sidney, haven’t you? Our records show that you’ve been arrested on three occasions for being drunk and disorderly. And the person who was arrested with you,’ said Keedy, reading from the sheet of paper in front of him, ‘was the man you don’t really know – Brian Coley. In my experience, you can get to know someone pretty well when you spend a night in a police cell with him. In any case,’ he continued, ‘you and Coley live in the same street. Can the pair of you really be such strangers?’
    Timpson was adamant. ‘I was at the Lamb & Flag.’
    ‘Nobody disputes that. You went there with Rudge and Len Harper – after you’d looted that shop in Jermyn Street. Both of them confirm that.’
    ‘What’s Lenny Harper been saying?’
    ‘It sounded like the truth to me.’
    ‘I know nothing about any mob in the West End.’
    ‘Then how come I have three witnesses who place you there, three close friends of yours who realise just how much trouble they’re in and who decided to come clean?’ He leant across the table. ‘Do you know what I think, Sidney? You were their leader. Coley, Rudge and Harper all look up to you. I think it was your idea to go on the rampage yesterday.’
    ‘No, it wasn’t.’
    ‘You actually led the mob.’
    ‘Piss off!’
    ‘When they’d had enough to drink, you stirred them up into a rage then took them off to attack a shop with a German name over it. You probably threw that brick through the window.’
    ‘No, I never!’ howled Timpson.
    ‘I bet you were the first to clamber in, weren’t you – the first to grab what you wanted? It was your privilege as the leader.’
    ‘I wasn’t even there.’
    ‘Then why do three people swear otherwise?’ asked Keedy.
    ‘Ask them.’
    ‘It’s no good lying, Sidney. You were seen . That’s how I know that you were the one who poured petrol onto that fire.’
    ‘That wasn’t me!’ shouted Timpson, unnerved by the charge. ‘It was that bloke in the dungarees. He brought the can with him.’
    When he heard what he’d just said, he put his hands to his face and groaned inwardly. The game was up. Under pressure from Keedy, he’d just confessed the truth. There was no way out.
    ‘Good,’ said Keedy, beaming. ‘I’m glad that we sorted that out. Let’s start all over again, shall we?’
     
    Dorothy Holdstock was both relieved and delighted to see her sister again. Having had no official confirmation that Irene had survived the disaster, she’d been on tenterhooks as she waited for news. It had come in the best possible way – her sister’s arrival on her doorstep. Over a cup of tea, Irene explained how she’d managed to escape drowning. Playing down the role she took in helping others to get safely off the ship, she talked about the chair that she clung to as she waited to be rescued by a boat.
    ‘It sounds to me as if you owe a lot to your friend,’ said Dorothy.
    ‘Ernie has always looked out for me.’
    ‘How long have you known him?’
    ‘Years and years, Dot.’
    ‘Is he the one who proposed to you?’
    ‘Yes, he is.’
    ‘Why did you turn him down?’
    ‘There were lots of reasons,’ said Irene, pensively. ‘First of all, I don’t want another husband. I had a wonderful marriage with Arthur and no man could ever replace him. Second, I discovered that I wasn’t the only female