Murder at the Ritz Page 19

  With that, Coburg and Lampson headed for the stairs. All the time Coburg could feel Barnes’s vengeful glare burning into his back.

  ‘Well done, guv,’ murmured Lampson. ‘I thought he was gonna kick off, first at the Iron Horse and then just now.’

  ‘He’s cocky and thinks he can’t be touched,’ said Coburg. ‘When he realises what’s going on, things might change.’

  Back in their office, Coburg used the phone to check the telephone number George had given him at the Ritz. The operator informed him of the location.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Coburg. He hung up, then said to Lampson: ‘It seems that Count Ahmed has been staying with Lord Kirby Mainwaring at Richford Castle, near Sevenoaks in Kent.’ He frowned. ‘Why does that name ring a bell?’

  Lampson also frowned, thinking, then he said: ‘It was on a list of some sort.’

  ‘Yes,’ Coburg agreed, ‘but a list of what?’

  Lampson struggled to recall, then his face lit up again and he went to a filing cabinet. He opened one of the drawers and rifled through the papers inside, before triumphantly flourishing a manila file containing a thick sheaf of papers.

  ‘I think it’s this one,’ he said, sitting down at his desk and starting to go through the list of names it contained. Coburg joined him, looking over his shoulder.

  ‘Members of the British Union of Fascists,’ he read.

  ‘I’m sure I saw it here,’ said Lampson, turning over the pages. Then he stopped and stabbed his forefinger at a name in the middle of the page. ‘Here he is!’

  ‘Does it say if he was locked up with the others?’

  ‘No,’ said Lampson. ‘But it mentions others who were.’ And he pointed to others on the list who had the word ‘interned’ against their entry. ‘So, I’m guessing he wasn’t thought to be as dangerous as the others.’

  ‘But why would an Albanian count, a refugee from Mussolini, be spending time with a member of the British Union of Fascists?’ wondered Coburg. ‘And not just spending time with him, but staying at his palatial mansion?’

  The phone rang and he picked it up, listened, then said: ‘I’ll be right down. Thank you, Sergeant.’

  ‘Charley Barnes’s mouthpiece?’ asked Lampson.

  ‘Mr Pentangle Underhill in person,’ said Coburg. ‘Right, let’s start.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Coburg and Lampson sat side by side at the table in the interview room. Opposite them sat Charley Barnes and Pentangle Underhill, and behind them two burly uniformed officers stood against the wall, ready to move in if needed. Coburg had decided it was one thing persuading Barnes to come to Scotland Yard without too much resistance, it could well turn out to be another once he realised that he was going to be kept in custody on remand. At that stage, Coburg expected Barnes’s internal firework to erupt. It was fortunate that Barnes had no weapons on him. Not that Coburg had thought he would have, he’d expected that Barnes would have guessed he’d be the first person to be quizzed, and he’d have made sure to ditch his pistol once the shooting of Den Bell had been carried out.

  Underhill regarded Coburg in his usual haughty manner. ‘I would like to know why my client has been brought in to Scotland Yard for questioning, Chief Inspector,’ he said stiffly.

  ‘Because earlier today a certain Dennis Bell was shot dead in the yard behind his pub, the Merrie Tumbler, in Tudor Street.’

  ‘Wasn’t me,’ said Barnes. ‘I was nowhere near there today, or any day. I stay clear of the Bells’ territory.’

  ‘As your client had just indicated, there is a certain known animosity between himself and the Bell brothers,’ said Coburg. ‘Therefore, it seemed logical to discuss the matter with him.’

  ‘As my client has just said, he was nowhere near Tudor Street today,’ said Underhill. ‘Therefore, I cannot see what he can contribute to the investigation.’

  ‘Yes, well, that contradicts a statement we had from a witness who positively identified Mr Barnes as leaving the alley connecting the rear yard of the Merrie Tumbler and walking away along Tudor Street almost immediately after the shots were fired that killed Mr Bell.’

  Barnes shook his head firmly.

  ‘Not me,’ he said. ‘Whoever told you that is mistaken.’

  ‘How did this witness identify my client?’ asked Underhill.

  ‘After initially giving a description of the assailant, that matched Mr Barnes, the witness was presented with a series of official police photographs, amongst which were two of Mr Barnes. The witness identified Mr Barnes as being the person that was seen by them.’

  ‘Who is this witness?’ asked Underhill.

  ‘For the moment we are keeping the identity of the witness a secret, until such time as we are ready to proceed with a charge being made.’

  ‘That is in contravention of accepted legal procedure,’ said Underhill primly. ‘There should be full disclosure to the defence.’

  ‘And there will be if it comes to a trial,’ said Coburg.

  Barnes turned to Underhill, showing signs of agitation.

  ‘He can’t do that!’ he said. ‘Stopping us from knowing who this witness is.’ He glared at Coburg. ‘It’s one of Danny Bell’s boys, ain’t it? This is a fit-up!’

  ‘To allay your fears on that point, as far as we’re aware the witness has no connection with the Bell family.’

  ‘As far as you’re aware,’ stressed Underhill.

  ‘My concern at the moment is to prevent this situation worsening,’ said Coburg. ‘As I say, we have a witness who places Mr Barnes in the rear yard of the Merrie Tumbler at the time of the shooting, which can be confirmed by Sergeant Lampson.’

  Underhill looked at Lampson, who said: ‘That’s right.’

  ‘And I said I wasn’t there!’ snapped Barnes.

  ‘You did,’ agreed Coburg pleasantly. ‘But here’s the problem. Danny Bell believes it was you who shot his brother, Den, in revenge for the shooting of Mel McGuinness, because you believed it was the Bell brothers who had Mel killed. The thing is, I don’t think it was the Bell brothers who shot Mel.’

  Barnes’s eyes flared angrily. ‘No?’ Grim-faced, he ticked off on his fingers: ‘Big Mel killed. His favourite pub torched. Billy Thackeray killed. Joe Williams killed. It’s all an attack on Mel and his outfit. Who else could it be but the Bell brothers?’

  ‘Plenty of others,’ said Coburg. ‘Mel hurt loads of people, you know that—’

  ‘I must protest,’ interjected Underhill angrily. ‘This is all just supposition which maligns my late client. Mr McGuinness was a businessman—’

  ‘Mel McGuinness, with the help of your client, Mr Barnes, ran things in south London, and the Bell brothers did the same north of the river,’ cut in Coburg brusquely. ‘It was business, and for a long time it worked for both sides. There were the occasional disagreements which turned physical, but no one died. Until now. But it wasn’t in the Bell brothers’ interest to kill McGuinness and start a full-scale war, because they knew that if that happened, both sides would lose, and lose big time. But now Danny believes you killed his brother, it’ll all blow up. The next logical step is for Danny to have you killed. And, after that, it’s your people against the Bells, with lots of people dying.’

  ‘Why kill me?’

  ‘Because he thinks you killed Den, and because you were Mel’s right-hand man. You’re in charge now.’

  ‘I was just Mel’s business manager.’

  ‘In the same way that Himmler is just Hitler’s bookkeeper,’ snorted Coburg derisively. ‘I’m taking you in, Charley.’

  ‘On what charge?’ demanded Barnes, outraged.

  ‘No charge. Protective custody.’ Coburg leant forward. ‘I’m keeping you alive. Out on the street you’re a dead man.’

  ‘I can look after myself,’ snapped Barnes.

  ‘I’m sure Mel and Den Bell thought the same,’ said Coburg. ‘I’m not going to let you and Danny Bell tear this city apart worse than it’s already suffering.’

>   Barnes turned to Underhill. ‘Are you going to say anything, or are you just gonna sit there like a dummy?’ he demanded angrily. ‘I’m not gonna let myself be locked up. Come on, do your job. Produce a writ, or whatever it is you do. I’m walking out of here.’

  ‘You will indeed walk out of here,’ Underhill assured him firmly. He turned to Coburg. ‘Chief Inspector, the law is very clear on the point of keeping people in custody without proper evidence. And I stress evidence, not rumour and accusations.’

  Coburg rose to his feet. ‘Mr Underhill, might I have a word with you outside?’

  ‘Why?’ demanded Barnes, also getting to his feet, agitated.

  As the two uniformed officers moved forward, Coburg turned to Barnes.

  ‘Please resume your seat, Mr Barnes. I just wish to discuss the possibility of a deal.’

  ‘If there’s talk of a deal, I want to be in on it,’ demanded Barnes.

  ‘No decisions will be taken without your approval,’ said Coburg. ‘Shall we talk, Mr Underhill?’

  Underhill looked at Barnes. ‘I’ll see what the chief inspector has to offer, then I’ll return and we can discuss it,’ he said.

  ‘In the meantime, Sergeant Lampson will be in charge during our absence,’ said Coburg.

  Coburg and Underhill walked out of the interview room, with Barnes shouting after them: ‘No deal if it means I’m locked up!’

  Outside in the corridor, Coburg stopped and said: ‘Mr Underhill, Danny Bell is convinced that Charley Barnes killed his brother.’

  ‘Yes, you’ve already made that clear,’ said Underhill. ‘However, whatever he believes, it will need to be proved in a court of law. In the meantime, there are no grounds for holding my client. You say you have a witness. Very well, produce them, otherwise I shall apply for a writ to have my client released.’

  ‘And if he is released? I can put money on the fact that if he’s out on the street, Charley Barnes will be dead within twenty-four hours. I also doubt if we’ll find his body. Danny Bell is extremely upset, and that’s an understatement. And if Charley Barnes dies, so do your regular payments as his legal representative. Think about that, Mr Underhill. You’ve done very well out of being Mel McGuinness’s lawyer, and you’ll do equally well representing Charley Barnes. So long as he remains alive, you can represent him when he comes to trial for the murder of Den Bell. A trial which, with all your legal interventions, could run for quite a while and be very financially rewarding for you. But with Charley dead, that’s it. There’s no one else in the organisation who’d authorise payments to you. So, by all means, get your writ and have Charley out on the street, and say goodbye to the generous remuneration you’ve enjoyed. Back to the penny-ante stuff. Defending petty criminals for low-rent money. Divorces. It’ll still be a living, but not the sort you’re used to. So, it’s up to you. Advise your client to accept protective custody or sell that luxury car of yours.’

  Underhill glared at Coburg. ‘If Mr Barnes is in as much danger as you say he is, then it’s your job to protect him.’

  Coburg shook his head. ‘Sorry, we’re too busy investigating murders to nursemaid suspects. Of course, you could always advise Charley to hire some extra muscle. But tell him not to leave the country. Although, where could he go to? Europe? And you know Danny Bell as well as I do, Mr Underhill. Wherever Charley goes, and however many people he hires to protect him, Danny will get him, so long as he’s out on the street.’

  Underhill looked warily at Coburg, then asked: ‘What is it you want me to do?’

  ‘I want you to persuade Charley to accept custody to keep him safe.’

  ‘That won’t be easy,’ said Underhill awkwardly. ‘He can be quite … volatile.’

  ‘If he doesn’t accept it, then it will be imposed on him,’ said Coburg. ‘With force, if necessary. But I’d rather it was done without anyone being injured.’

  Underhill hesitated, then he nodded. ‘Very well,’ he said. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  The two men returned to the interview room. Barnes sat and gave Coburg a challenging glare. ‘Well?’ he demanded. ‘Do I walk?’

  Coburg looked at Underhill, who said awkwardly: ‘In the circumstances, Mr Barnes, based on what DCI Coburg has said about your life being at risk—’

  ‘No!’ shouted Barnes, and this time he leapt to his feet, then abruptly sat down as he saw the two burly officers move towards him.

  ‘I want another solicitor!’ he shouted at Coburg.

  ‘Certainly,’ said Coburg calmly. ‘Just tell me their name and I’ll arrange for them to come here.’

  Barnes’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Coburg. ‘You’re not going to get away with this!’ he threatened. ‘I know people. Important people.’ He turned to Underhill. ‘And when I get out, you’re finished.’

  ‘Your life is at risk,’ repeated the solicitor.

  ‘Piss off!’ snapped Barnes. He held out his hands. ‘Come on, then. If you’re going to lock me up, do it proper. Put the cuffs on me. Cos I’m never going to have it said that Charley Barnes went to jail willingly.’

  ‘Very well’ said Coburg. ‘Sergeant Lampson, please put the handcuffs on Mr Barnes. And then take him to Wandsworth for remand.’

  Barnes glared at Coburg but let Lampson put the cuffs on him, scowling the whole time.

  ‘Thank you for your co-operation, Mr Underhill,’ said Coburg. ‘Would you like to accompany your client to Wandsworth?’

  ‘No!’ shouted Barnes. ‘I’m having nothing to do with that toerag any more.’

  ‘I will look after your interests,’ Underhill assured him. ‘This is just a temporary measure.’

  ‘You’d better see that it is,’ Barnes hissed.

  Coburg turned to the uniformed officers. ‘Would you escort Mr Barnes outside and wait for Sergeant Lampson there? He’ll be with you in a moment.’

  The two officers led him out of the room, followed by Underhill, who was being glared at venomously by Barnes.

  ‘Well, that went well, guv,’ said Lampson. ‘Easier than I thought it’d be. What now? I’m guessing you’ve got a call to make.’

  ‘I have,’ said Coburg. ‘I’m going to see Danny Bell and warn him off over Charley Barnes. I want to make sure this ends now.’

  ‘Think Charley will hang for Den Bell?’

  Coburg nodded. ‘But we still need to find out who killed Mel McGuinness. That’s our next job.’

  ‘Along with finding out who killed Joe Williams, Billy Thackeray, and the kitchen hand at the Ritz,’ said Lampson.

  ‘Indeed,’ said Coburg. ‘As I’ve said before, Ted, I think we’re dealing with two separate cases here. The murder of Joe Williams and the kitchen hand at the Ritz are one case; the killings of Mel McGuinness and Billy Thackeray are another. The first is about the two million quid. The other is about revenge.’

  ‘Revenge?’

  ‘The way that Billy Thackeray was savagely beaten shows whoever did it hated him. The same thing with torching the Four Feathers and shooting McGuinness in the head. I suggest we divide things up. Once you’ve handed Barnes in, you set about looking into who might have wanted McGuinness and Thackeray dead. Meanwhile, after I’ve had a word with Danny Bell, I’ll concentrate on the murders at the Ritz, especially now we’ve got Lord Mainwaring entering the picture.’

  ‘Your aristocratic contacts, guv?’ Lampson grinned. ‘Socialising with the nobs?’

  Coburg grinned back. ‘It’s a dirty job, Ted, but someone’s got to do it. I suggest you liaise with Barry Moss at Waterloo nick. He seems to be the one who was most in touch with what McGuinness and Thackeray were up to.’

  ‘You think it’s someone they messed up?’

  ‘I do, and more than messed up. It’s someone they hurt very badly. Also, see if you can track down Ollen’s girlfriend, Anna Gershon. As for me, first thing tomorrow I’m going to see if I can get hold of Count Ahmed. Let’s you and I meet up tomorrow late afternoon in the office and compare notes.’

 
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Coburg returned to the Merrie Tumbler as the first stage in his quest to track down Danny Bell. At first, he was surprised to find Bell still there, sitting in the bar with his two silent henchmen, an almost empty whisky glass on the table in front of him. He’d expected him to be busy ordering his men out to find Charley Barnes, but then he realised that Danny was still in a state of shock and disbelief. This was the last place he’d been with this brother and Danny couldn’t bear to tear himself away, not just yet.

  Bell gave Coburg a sour look as he entered and gestured for the barman to bring two more glasses over. Bell’s two henchmen, Coburg noted, had soft drinks in front of them, barely touched. Keeping their heads if they were called into action.

  ‘Can we talk?’ asked Coburg.

  Bell shrugged. ‘Talk away,’ he said airily.

  ‘Just you and me,’ said Coburg.

  Bell hesitated, then said to his two waiting henchmen: ‘Keep an eye on the yard outside.’

  As the two men walked out, the barman appeared with two glasses of whisky which he put on the table.

  ‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ said Coburg politely. ‘I’m still on duty.’

  ‘It doesn’t stop most of your copper mates,’ said Bell acidly. ‘Anyway, who said one of them was yours.’ He picked up his glass and took a mouthful.

  ‘I’ve come to tell you we’ve got Charley Barnes in jail,’ said Coburg.

  Bell studied Coburg warily. ‘For killing Den?’

  ‘On suspicion of it.’

  ‘He did it,’ said Bell grimly.

  ‘If he did, he’ll hang,’ said Coburg

  Bell said nothing, just glared angrily at Coburg.

  ‘I know that’s not enough for you,’ Coburg continued. ‘For you, this is personal. But you’re going to have to live with it. My guess is that Charley thought you and Den were behind the killing of Mel McGuinness, the torching of his pub, and the killings of Billy Thackeray and Joe Williams.’