The Stratford Murder by Mike Hollow (best thriller novels of all time .TXT) 📗

‘You’ll have to do better than that, Mr Sullivan.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean I don’t believe you. I don’t think you’re telling me the truth, and there’s something you need to understand. I don’t like lying, and I don’t like perjury, especially when the person who I think is lying to me is wearing the king’s uniform. I expect the navy would take a dim view of that too.’

‘Perjury? This isn’t about me, is it? Is this something to do with Joan getting murdered? Are you saying my dad and Martin are mixed up in that?’

Jago ignored his questions. ‘This is about you, Mr Sullivan – it’s about you giving me the truth. So I’ll ask you again – are you really sure Martin was at home? Sure enough to give evidence to that effect in a court of law? Or is this just a story you’ve cooked up with your father and brother? You see, I think it is, and I think you just didn’t cook it up in enough detail to make it plausible. Now, what’s the truth?’

Ernie seemed uncertain how to respond. He chewed his lip nervously before blurting out his reply. ‘Look, Inspector, this is difficult for me. Believe me, I didn’t want to … It’s just that I didn’t know how to …’ His voice trailed off uncertainly.

‘You didn’t want to what?’

‘I didn’t want to get involved. Look, I’ve grown up in a family that hasn’t always stuck to the straight and narrow. You understand me? In that kind of family you learn to cover for each other. But I’m not a crook, I swear it, and I don’t want to be one. And anyway, if you think I was up to something illegal with those nylons you’ve got it wrong – I bought them and sold them, and I gave away more than I sold.’

‘So perhaps you can reconsider what you’ve said and tell me exactly what did happen when you got home on Sunday evening. First of all, was your father in?’

‘Yes, it was like I said – Dad was at home.’

‘And your brother?’

‘No, Martin wasn’t in. But I don’t know where he was or what he was doing.’

‘And you went to bed soon after you got home, in the Anderson shelter, as you said.’

‘That’s right.’

‘What time was that?’

‘About half past ten, I should think.’

‘And your father went to bed in the shelter too?’

‘No. He said he was going to stay up a bit longer. I didn’t hear him come into the shelter, but then I usually go off to sleep pretty quickly – when you’re in the navy you learn to sleep anywhere and any time. I did wake up once, though, when the bombs were landing a bit close, and I checked the time – it was getting on for midnight. There was still no one else in the shelter then, but when I stirred again a bit later they were both there, in their beds.’

‘Your father and your brother?’

‘That’s right. They must’ve come in sometime after midnight.’

‘Thank you, Mr Sullivan. Are you expecting to see them today? I’d like a word with them.’

‘You’re not going to tell them what I’ve just said, are you?’

‘Only if I have to. The fact that they weren’t in when they told me they were doesn’t necessarily mean they were involved in criminal activity. But if I find they’ve been up to no good somewhere else, what you’ve said could become relevant to my enquiries.’

‘I just don’t want them to think I’ve shopped them. But seriously, Inspector, believe me, they’re not murderers.’

‘I haven’t said they are, Mr Sullivan. I just want to speak to them.’

‘All right. Dad didn’t mention where he was going, but he said he’d only be out for a couple of hours. I don’t know when Martin’s planning to get back.’

‘Very well, that will be all for now. I’ll see them later. In the meantime, perhaps you’ll find something more to your taste at a different cinema.’

Cradock glanced back over his shoulder as they returned to the car, noting that Ernie Sullivan had set off in the opposite direction to their own.

‘Do you think he’ll tip his dad off, sir? Or his brother? If he does, it’ll give them a chance to make up a new alibi before we see them.’

‘Maybe, but I’d be surprised if those three managed to concoct anything half convincing, judging by their performance to date. What did you make of Ernie’s version of events?’

‘He was struggling, wasn’t he? Couldn’t get his story straight. He didn’t know what his dad and Martin had told us, so he couldn’t work out whether he was getting it right or not.’

‘So what does that tell us?’

‘Well, I still think all three of them were mixed up in that safe-breaking. I told you I reckoned that story of them all being in the shelter together all night was a bit too convenient, didn’t I?’

‘Yes, and now that alibi looks decidedly feeble. If Ernie’s saying he was alone in the shelter until after midnight, his dad and his brother have no one to testify that they couldn’t have been in the cinema at the time Wilson says he heard the blast.’

‘Exactly.’

‘Mind you, of course, if George and Martin weren’t in that shelter from half past ten or so until after midnight, it means Ernie doesn’t have an alibi for that time himself, does he?’

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Jago noticed Cradock rubbing his stomach with one hand, a pained expression on his face, just as a lorry lumbering past down Windmill Lane made a particularly grinding gear change.

‘Is that you making that noise, Peter?’ he said. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘Nothing, sir. Just feeling a bit peckish. I wondered whether we might be going back to the nick soon for a bite to eat.’

‘Not yet,’ said Jago, climbing into the car. ‘I’m interested in those singing lessons of Joan’s that Beryl mentioned. I’m just wondering who her teacher was, and I think it might