Five Dead Canaries Read Online Free Page B

he’d been very critical of the shortage of ammunition.
    Having made some notes during the account, Marmion closed his pad.
    ‘Six of them went into that room,’ he said, reflectively, ‘but only five remained there. Have you any idea why the sixth young lady left early?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Hubbard, ruefully. ‘There’s only one explanation.’
    ‘Is there?’
    ‘You’re the detective – you should have worked it out by now. That girl ran out as if she was fleeing a ghost. It’s obvious, isn’t it? She
knew
there was going to be an explosion there,’ he claimed with a surge of anger. ‘There was a plot to bomb my outhouse and that bitch was part of it.’

    Joe Keedy was in luck. When he got to the hospital, Maureen Quinn was still there. Having been treated for shock, she’d been discharged but had felt too numbed by the experience to do anything more than sit in the waiting room and brood. The full implications of what had happened were terrifying. At a stroke, she’d lost five good friends at the factory. Their lives had been snuffed out like candles in a matter of seconds and, if she’d stayed a little longer at the pub, Maureen would now be lying beside them on a slab in the hospital morgue. It was a sobering thought. She was still wrestling with recriminations when Keedy joined her.
    ‘Miss Quinn?’ he asked, gently.
    She looked up. ‘Yes, that’s me.’
    ‘I’m Detective Sergeant Keedy from Scotland Yard and I’ve been called in to investigate the explosion at the Golden Goose.’ Maureen shrunk back as if in fear of arrest. ‘There’s no need for alarm. I just want to ask a few questions.’
    ‘Oh, I see.’
    ‘May I sit down?’
    ‘Well, yes – if you must.’
    ‘It’s such a help to us to have a survivor,’ he said, taking the seat beside her. ‘It means that we can identify the victims. The only one we know by name is a Mrs Florence Duncan.’ He smiled softly. ‘I believe you called her “Florrie” at work.’
    ‘Everyone did, Sergeant.’
    He flipped open his notebook. ‘Could I have her address, please?’
    Before long, he had the names and addresses of all five women and – because of the way that Maureen’s voice modulated each time – he had some idea of how she related to each one of them. Evidently, Agnes Collier was the biggest loss to her whereas Jean Harte seemed to be no more than an acquaintance. Having taken down Maureen’s own details, Keedy could see from his notes that she and Agnes lived fairly close to each other.
    ‘Next of kin will have to be informed,’ he said. ‘Who will that be in the case of Mrs Collier?’
    ‘Her mother – a Mrs Radcliffe – she looks after Agnes’s baby son.’ Tears filled her eyes. ‘This will come as a terrible blow to her. Then there’s her husband, Terry, of course. He’s in France somewhere.’
    ‘What about you?’ he asked solicitously.
    She was defensive. ‘What about me?’
    ‘Do you live alone or is there someone to look after you?’
    ‘I live with my parents and my younger sister.’
    ‘So you’ll have plenty of support at home.’
    ‘Yes, yes, I’ll be fine.’
    ‘With respect, Miss Quinn, you don’t
look
fine.’
    ‘I’ll be all right, Sergeant,’ she said, keen to end the interrogation.
    ‘I’d be happy to give you a lift home,’ he offered.
    ‘No, no, you needn’t do that. It’s only a few stops on the train.’
    ‘Naturally, the factory will have to be informed that they’ve lost five of their employees. Could you tell me who to contact?’
    ‘Mr Kennett is the works manager. Speak to him – though he won’t come on duty until six tomorrow morning. But,’ she went on, thinking it through, ‘they’ll have his home telephone number at the factory. You could contact him this evening.’
    ‘That’s a good suggestion – thank you.’
    Anxious to leave, she rose to her feet. ‘I must be off now.’
    ‘Are you sure that you feel well enough?’
    ‘Yes, I’m much