Read Online Five Dead Canaries by Edward Marston - Free Book Online Page B

arguing about it. In fact, Chatfield was not at his best during a press conference. He was too bossy and kept far too much back. Instead of wooing the press, he usually managed to antagonise them. Sublimely unaware that his manner was condescending, he always wondered why he received less than lavish praise in the newspapers.
    ‘What’s your next move, Inspector?’ he asked.
    ‘My first port of call is the Golden Goose. I want another chat with the landlord.’
    ‘What will Sergeant Keedy be doing?’
    ‘He’s going to talk to Mr Kennett, the works manager at the factory.’
    ‘I wish I could put more men at your disposal.’
    ‘We’ll manage, sir,’ said Marmion. ‘One trained detective is worth half a dozen uniformed constables who’ve spent most of their time pounding the beat and arresting drunks. We’ve a small but experienced team.’
    ‘But will it deliver a result? That’s my concern.’
    ‘All that I can guarantee is that we’ll do our utmost.’
    ‘I suppose I’ve no need to ask this,’ said Chatfield, raising an eyebrow, ‘but I hope you haven’t discussed this case with your daughter. I know that she’s followed in your footsteps and joined the police but she’s a complete novice and has no part to play in a murder investigation.’
    As he looked Chatfield in the eye, Marmion’s face was impassive. ‘As you say, sir, there’s no need to ask that question.’
    ‘I’m relieved to hear it. In any case, she’s probably too busy thinking about her forthcoming marriage, isn’t she? Talking of which, I trust that the prospect is not distracting the sergeant in any way.’
    ‘Joe Keedy is a true professional, Superintendent.’
    ‘Yes – he reminds me of myself at that age.’
    ‘I can’t say that I see any similarity,’ said Marmion, waspishly. ‘You are quite unique, Superintendent. The car is waiting,’ he went on, moving to the door. ‘If you’ll excuse us, we have five murders to solve.’

    Bernard Kennett was a tall, stooping, middle-aged man in a crumpled blue suit. He looked rather careworn and had a habit of running his hand through his hair. Invited into his office, Keedy was quick to make an appraisal of him, deciding that the works manager was more or less exactly as he’d imagined him to be when they spoke on the telephone. Kennett was polite, educated and eager to be of assistance. He waved his visitor to a chair, then sat behind a desk piled high with invoices and correspondence.
    ‘Let me get one thing clear, Sergeant,’ he began. ‘I’m not in overall control of production here. That duty falls to Mr Passmore. He’s the factory manager. I’m in charge of the section where the five unfortunate young women used to work.’
    ‘And you actually remembered one of them.’
    ‘Oh, nobody could forget Florence Duncan. She was their spokeswoman. I recall her sitting in that very seat and demanding a longer lunch break.’
    ‘Did she get it?’ wondered Keedy.
    ‘That’s immaterial.’ The older man combed his hair with his fingersthen reached for a folder on his desk. ‘Knowing that you were coming, I did a bit of detective work on my own behalf. I spoke to some of the women who worked alongside the five victims and made a few notes.’
    ‘That will be extremely helpful, sir,’ said Keedy. ‘Thank you.’
    ‘It’s only anecdotal, of course, but it will tell you something about their characters.’ He opened the folder. ‘I need hardly say what the mood is like in the Cartridge Section. Those five young women were very popular. The whole place is in mourning for them.’
    ‘That’s understandable.’
    Kennett glanced at his notes. ‘The one I feel sorry for is Enid Jenks.’
    ‘We were told that she was a fine musician.’
    ‘That’s why she would have been so disappointed to miss the occasion. We’re not just slave-drivers here, Sergeant. Productivity must, of necessity, be kept up to a high level but we do try to take care of our workforce.