The Stratford Murder by Mike Hollow (love books to read txt) 📕

among other things, that there was a sailor in here on Sunday selling stockings.’

‘Look, I told you—’

‘This is not to do with any informal commercial transactions that may or may not have been going on. I’m looking for a witness who may be able to help us, and I have reason to believe he may be a sailor who was in here on Sunday. If you can tell me his name I’d be most obliged.’

‘Right, well, in that case it was young Ernie Sullivan. He’s a local boy, used to be one of our regulars. I think he joined up a year or two ago, but he was always in here before that, and we still see him if he gets a bit of leave.’

‘And is he usually in here selling things?’

‘No, not usually.’

‘Do you know where we can find him?’

‘No, but his dad still lives up Windmill Lane. Don’t know the number, but Ernie once said it’s a flat over a greengrocer’s, so if he hasn’t moved or been bombed out, you should be able to find him round there.’

‘Thank you. That’s very helpful.’

‘All right,’ said the landlord. ‘But remember – it wasn’t me who told you.’

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

‘I was just wondering, guv’nor,’ said Cradock as they came out of the Green Man and turned left up Stratford High Street. ‘How much longer do I have to cart this old suitcase around? I’m beginning to feel like some sort of commercial traveller – I keep thinking people are expecting it to be full of brushes or cleaning products when I open it.’

‘That’s better than people looking at you and wondering what a young copper’s doing with a suitcase,’ said Jago. ‘Good training for plainclothes work – learning how to blend in with your surroundings. But if we don’t find anyone soon who can tell us whether it has any significance I’ll give up. Elsie wasn’t much help, was she?’

‘No, sir, but that was a good tip about the sailor – selling stockings and all that. I don’t suppose she’d have let him do it if the landlord didn’t approve, though – he’d have been out on his ear. She could look after herself, I reckon. I wonder what would’ve happened at the Regal if she’d been the fire watcher instead of that Bert Wilson bloke.’

‘You don’t think much of him?’

‘Well, he looked the part, didn’t he? A real bruiser. But I wasn’t so sure.’

‘You weren’t convinced?’

‘No, I don’t think I was. At first sight you’d think yes, he’s a tough guy, the sort of bloke it’d be handy to have with you if you ran into a spot of bother down a dark alleyway. But if that was so, I’d have thought he’d put up more of a fight against whoever broke into the cinema that night. All sounded a bit convenient, didn’t it? You know – he didn’t see them, they grabbed him from behind, and they tied him up and gagged him before he could do anything.’

‘So you think if it was an inside job he might’ve been part of it?’

‘Not necessarily, but he did have keys.’

‘Only for that night when he was on duty.’

‘Yes, but he could’ve got a copy made some other time. Or he could’ve just let them in on the night. We’ve only got his word for it that he was on the roof when he heard the safe being blown. He could’ve let them in and then gone back up to where he was supposed to be.’

‘Let’s ask him a few questions, then,’ said Jago. ‘We’ll drop in on our way back to the station – and if he’s there we’ll put your theory to the test.’

They walked up the High Street towards the cinema. On their right, Stratford Market railway station seemed to be untouched by the recent air raids, but a little farther on the Times Furnishings store had been obliterated by a direct hit. The breeze still carried the acrid tang of burnt timber.

At the Regal, they found Sidney Conway in his office. He confirmed that Bert Wilson was on duty and offered them the use of the room, then sent for the doorman. When Wilson arrived, the manager made a show of gathering up some papers and leaving.

‘Mr Wilson,’ said Jago. ‘We’d just like to ask you a few more questions, if that’s all right.’

‘Fine by me,’ said Wilson with a shrug.

Jago motioned to Cradock to take over the questioning.

‘Right,’ said Cradock. ‘This break-in – the men who did it seem to have let you off lightly, don’t they?’

‘I suppose you could say that,’ Wilson replied, ‘although at the time there was no knowing what they might do.’

‘I understand you had a set of keys to the cinema.’

‘Yes, the fire watcher needs them to get around the building. What are you getting at?’

‘Only that when someone like you is alone in a building at night with a set of keys and a safe full of money, and some other blokes get in and steal that money, someone’s bound to ask whether you were in cahoots with them.’

‘Cahoots? What are you talking about?’

‘I’m talking about you having a finger in the pie, Mr Wilson.’

‘What are you suggesting? That I let them in or something?’

‘You wouldn’t be the first.’

‘Why would I do that?’

‘For money, of course.’

‘But that doesn’t make sense. There’d only be a couple of nights’ takings in that safe, say three or four hundred quid. There were two blokes who grabbed me, and they probably had someone keeping watch outside or downstairs, so there could’ve been three or four of them. If they split the money between them they’d get a hundred each, and for that they’d risk going to jail for blowing a safe, so what would they give someone like me for letting them in? Twenty, maybe? I earn two quid a week, so that means for ten weeks’ money I’d risk getting eighteen months’ hard labour, losing my job and possibly being out of work for