Free Five Dead Canaries by Edward Marston Page B

because of his stupidity.’
    ‘What does he do, exactly?’
    ‘He fetches and carries. That’s about all he can do. I’d never let himbehind the bar and he’d be hopeless dealing with money. What he can do is donkey work. Royston cleans beer glasses and moves crates of empty bottles.’
    ‘Where does he store the crates – in the outhouse?’
    ‘Yes,’ replied Hubbard.
    ‘Does he ever forget to lock it?’
    ‘I’m afraid that he does. Every time it’s happened, I threaten him with the sack but …’ the landlord hunched his shoulders ‘… well, the truth is that I feel sorry for the lad. You can’t help liking him.’
    ‘Where is the key to the outhouse kept?’
    ‘It hangs on a hook in the corridor.’
    ‘Where does the corridor lead?’
    ‘It’s the way to the Gents – that’s out in the courtyard. Well, it was,’ said Hubbard, bitterly, ‘but that went up in smoke as well. It’s only a shed with a corrugated iron roof. Thank God nobody was taking a piss out there at the time.’
    The landlord was still simmering. Marmion gave him a few minutes to expel his bile about the temporary loss of his livelihood. Hubbard blamed everyone he could think of for the disaster, ending with an attack on the police for not guarding his premises. Marmion leapt to their defence.
    ‘How were they to know that your outhouse was in danger?’ he challenged. ‘Police resources are very stretched, Mr Hubbard. They have to identify the most vulnerable targets and keep an eye on them. No disrespect to the Golden Goose but your pub hardly merits comparison with the munitions factory. Had a bomb been planted there, far more deaths would have resulted.’
    Hubbard had the grace to look shamefaced. He even shrugged an apology.
    ‘Right,’ said Marmion, ‘now that you’ve calmed down, you can start to help us and, by extension, help yourself.’
    ‘Eh?’
    ‘I’m bound to ask the obvious question. Do you have any enemies?’
    ‘Yes, Inspector – I’m in business. Every other landlord in Hayes is my enemy.’
    ‘Would any of them go to the length of bombing your outhouse?’
    ‘No, they wouldn’t – but I daresay they’re rubbing their hands with glee now that the Goose is out of action for a while. As for customers I might have upset, there have been plenty of those but most of them are in the army now and the others wouldn’t dare do a thing like this to me.’
    ‘How many people knew about the birthday party in advance?’
    ‘Apart from me and the wife, almost nobody was told. There’d have been strong objections from a few of the regulars, especially Ezra Greenwell. Oh,’ he added as he scratched his head, ‘Royston would have known, of course. He was there when the booking was made.’
    ‘Would he have spread the word about the party?’
    ‘I told him not to but that probably went in one ear and out the other. Royston lives in a world of his own. He goes around with this half-witted grin on his face. It was still there last night when he was watching my outhouse blazing away.’
    ‘What’s his full name?’ asked Marmion, taking out his notebook. ‘And where does Royston live?’
    ‘He can’t tell you anything, Inspector.’
    ‘Nevertheless, I think that it’s time he and I got acquainted.’

CHAPTER SIX
    Alice Marmion schooled herself to be patient. In joining the police, she realised, she’d expected too much too soon. The concept of a female constabulary was still relatively new and the force had an ill-defined role. Again, it was fiercely resented in some quarters, as Alice had swiftly discovered. The war, which had depleted the police force, had given women the opportunity to move into its ranks and show what they could do. At best, they faced a grudging tolerance from male counterparts; at worst, they had to endure stinging criticism of their limitations. Alice had learnt to ignore their acid comments and simply get on with her job. She’d made some good friends among the other