Free Five Dead Canaries by Edward Marston

They’re engaged in rather dull and repetitive work,’ he continued, ‘so we endeavour to take their minds off it by giving them periodic treats during their lunch break.’
    ‘What sort of treats?’
    ‘The one I have in mind is the visit of Madame Tetrazzini. Does that name mean anything to you?’
    ‘I’m afraid not,’ confessed Keedy.
    ‘Then I can see that you are not an opera lover. Madame Tetrazzini is a famous Italian soprano. She has an international reputation. We were lucky enough to secure a booking with her. She’s due to entertain our workers here next week. I fancy that Enid Jenks would have been thrilled to have the opportunity to hear the lady. It’s a complete contrast,’ said Kennett with a note of pride. ‘The women go from filling shells for long hours to listening to arias from Verdi and Rossini. We may tire their limbs but we also feed their souls.’
    ‘I wouldn’t know about that, sir. I’ve never been to an opera. But I’m glad that it’s not uninterrupted toil here.’ He extended a hand. ‘Can I see your notes, please?’
    Kennett passed them to him. ‘Take them away, Sergeant. My handwriting is not too atrocious. Now, then, what else can I do to help?
    ‘I’d be interested to see what the five victims actually did when they were here,’ said Keedy, careful not to reveal that he believed the bomber might also work at the factory. ‘I’d like some insight into their daily routine.’
    ‘That can be arranged.’
    Before he could stand up, Kennett was diverted by the urgent ring of his telephone. Apologising for the interruption, he picked up the receiver and listened. Keedy watched his expression change from interest to sudden concern.
    ‘Yes,’ said the works manager at length. ‘By all means, allow her in. I’ll see her immediately.’ He put the receiver down. ‘That was the security officer at the gate. There’s a Mrs Quinn asking to see me. She seems quite desperate.’
    ‘Would that be a Mrs Diane Quinn?’ asked Keedy.
    ‘It is, indeed. It appears that her daughter has disappeared from the house. Mrs Quinn is wondering if she came to work in spite of the fact that she was ordered not to by her father. Excuse me,’ said Kennett, moving to the door, ‘while I instruct my secretary to establish the facts. I want to put Mrs Quinn’s mind at rest.’
    Keedy took the opportunity to glance at the notes he’d been given. They were written in a neat hand and consisted largely of a series of quotations from friends of the deceased. They fleshed out the portraits that he and Marmion had been given at the Quinn house. He noted the kind words that were said about Maureen herself. Most of thepraise was reserved for Florrie Duncan but Enid Jenks was admired for her musical talent – she also played the piano – Agnes Collier was remembered for her girlish giggle and Jean Harte was liked best for her morose humour. Keedy was very interested in a snippet of information about Shirley Beresford.
    It was minutes before Kennett reappeared. When he finally did so, he had an anguished Diane Quinn with him. She was startled to see Keedy there. He stood up so that she could have his chair and listened intently to her tale of woe.
    ‘It’s my fault,’ she said, chewing her lip. ‘I should have checked the moment I got up. Better still, I should have heard her sneaking out of the house. It never crossed my mind that she’d go anywhere. Maureen was dog-tired last night. After what she’d been through, it’s not surprising. But, when I went into her bedroom this morning, she simply wasn’t there!’ Apprehension darkened her features. ‘My husband will be so cross with me when he finds out. I must get Maureen back before he comes home. Where on earth can she be, Sergeant?’
    ‘I don’t know, Mrs Quinn. I assume that you’ve conducted a search?’
    ‘I’ve been
everywhere
. I even called on Sadie Radcliffe and that was a mistake. She was very spiteful about Maureen –