‘I wasn’t deliberately withholding information from you,’ said Cohen. ‘You must make allowance for the circumstances, Inspector. When we talked the first time, I was looking at the shop in which I’d worked for many happy years burnt to the ground. I was overcome by emotion.’

‘I took that into consideration, sir. I still think that you were unnecessarily taciturn when asked how the two brothers got on.’

‘I happen to value the concept of loyalty.’

‘You allowed it to cloud your thinking. I’m sure that you’re as anxious as we are to catch the perpetrators of the crimes but we can’t do that if you conceal vital facts from us. Mr Stein is dead,’ Marmion emphasised. ‘You’re not being disloyal if you tell me that his brother exerted undue influence over him.’

‘Perhaps not,’ conceded the other.

‘So what was the relationship between them?’

David Cohen took time to assemble his answer. Even though he was spending leisure time at home, he was neatly attired in a suit. Marmion wondered if the man ever wore casual clothing. It seemed wholly out of character for him. Cohen began with a warning.

‘What I’m about to tell you, I do so in strictest confidence.’

‘I respect that, sir.’

‘Nobody outside the family is aware of the true situation.’

‘And what situation would that be, Mr Cohen?’

Cohen inflated his chest. ‘The business was not always as successful as it became,’ he admitted as he breathed out. ‘There was a time early on when it ran into difficulties.’

‘Did Mr Stein have a loan from his bank?’

‘He felt it easier to borrow from his brother,’ said Cohen. ‘That way, the bank was kept unaware of the fact that there’d been a wobble in his fortunes. Thanks to the injection of new capital, the business quickly righted itself.’

‘But it remained in debt to Mr Stone.’

‘He was Herman Stein in those days, Inspector, and he was very acquisitive by nature. He believed that his loan had bought him a strong position in the firm. Even after it was repaid, he continued to put in an appearance and keep abreast of the accounts.’

‘That must have been disconcerting for his brother.’

‘It was.’

‘How did the other employees view his interference?’

‘They resented it.’

‘Did they complain?’

‘They left it to Mr Burridge to do that,’ said Cohen. ‘He was the unofficial spokesman and not simply because he was the oldest. Cyril Burridge was a born complainer.’

‘Yes,’ said Marmion with a wry smile, ‘I’ve met the gentleman. I can imagine him speaking out.’ He waited for a response that never came. Cohen was not to be drawn. ‘What do you know about the insurance arrangements for the shop?’

‘Nothing at all, Inspector — I left that to Mr Stein.’

‘Was he punctilious about such things?’

‘Very punctilious,’ replied Cohen.

‘Then I’m bound to ask why he put the arrangements in his brother’s hands.’ Cohen was taken aback. ‘It seems that the whole policy was reviewed a couple of months ago. Thanks to Mr Stone, the shop was carrying much heavier insurance than before.’

Once again, Cohen held back any comment. Marmion could see that the man was startled, yet he refused to express it in words. Nor did he ask how the inspector had come by the information. Insulated by consecutive layers of caution, the manager simply bided his time. Marmion tried to pierce his defences.

‘You didn’t like Mr Burridge, did you?’ he challenged.

‘Is that what he told you?’

‘I deduced it from the way you talked about him.’

‘His work was above reproach, Inspector.’

‘What about his manner?’

‘One learns to accept people’s idiosyncrasies.’

‘Are you claiming that there was no conflict between you?’

‘I was there to make sure that everyone did his job,’ said Cohen, smoothly, ‘and that’s what I did. Mr Burridge is an expert tailor.’

‘Then why didn’t you fight to retain his services?’

‘The decision was not left in my hands.’

‘What if it had been?’

Cohen gave a cold smile. ‘That’s idle speculation and, as such, of no earthly use to us. Mr Burridge left because of a dispute over his wages. I did not hold the purse strings, Inspector.’

‘I’m beginning to wonder what you actually did do,’ said Marmion, irritated by his companion’s habit of dodging questions. ‘You seem to have managed the business with your eyes closed.’

‘I find that remark offensive,’ said Cohen, huffily.

‘Then that makes us quits, sir, because I find your evasiveness equally offensive. I’m trying to find out who killed your employer and all that you can do is to fend me off. Since you can’t give me a straight answer with regard to Mr Burridge, let’s turn to Howard Fine. Were you pleased that he was dismissed?’

‘I felt that it was best for the firm.’

‘Why was that, sir?’

‘He was not our sort of tailor.’

‘He was personable, had excellent credentials and came from a good Jewish family. I would have thought he was ideally qualified to work for Jacob Stein.’

‘That was how it seemed at first.’

‘What went wrong, Mr Cohen?’

‘Mr Stone is best placed to answer that, Inspector. He made the decision to terminate his contract.’

‘Did his brother endorse the decision?’

There was a long pause. ‘He came to do so after a while.’

‘So there was some dissension at first — is that correct?’

‘It did cause a ripple or two,’ confessed Cohen. ‘The fact is that both Mr Fine and Mr Burridge were soon replaced with people who did their respective jobs just as well. Until the tragic events of last week, the business was thriving.’

Marmion detected the slightest hint of a smirk around the man’s lips as if Cohen was congratulating himself on the way that he was refraining from committing himself in any way. It prompted the detective to ask a question off the top of his head.

‘Did you see anything of Mr Stone socially, sir?’

‘No, I didn’t.’

‘What about his brother?’

‘Mr Stein and I did have an occasional drink together, Inspector, and my wife and I were privileged to dine with him and Mrs Stein now and again. Also, of course, I worshipped at the same synagogue.’

‘Indeed? Then I have some sad news for you.’

‘Really?’

‘An attempt was made last night to burn it down,’ said Marmion. ‘Luckily, the alarm was quickly raised and the fire brigade got there in time to put out the blaze before it did any significant damage.’

Cohen was distraught. ‘That’s an appalling thing to do!’

‘We’ve mounted a police presence outside the building and warned other synagogues to take precautions against attack.’

‘Do you think attacks are likely elsewhere?’

‘No, Mr Cohen,’ said Marmion, calmly, ‘I don’t believe that they are. I think it’s more than possible that your synagogue was picked out because it was the one that Jacob Stein attended. He’s being persecuted even though he’s now in his grave.’

When she woke up that morning, the problem that she had taken to bed with her was still there to vex her. Who had been following them the previous day? It was a question that tormented Irene. Though she had seen nobody with her own eyes, she put her trust in the instincts of Miss James. Someone had tailed them to the shops. Irene kept asking herself who it was and what his motive could have been. The obvious candidate was Ernie Gill but he lived on the other side of London and had promised not to get into contact with her until she felt ready. The onus was on Irene to arrange their next meeting.

Over her mid-morning cup of coffee at the house, she came round to another explanation and it was not reassuring. The person following them must have been a thief. Seeing someone as vulnerable as Miss James, he had been waiting for an opportunity to snatch her handbag and run off. Irene’s presence stopped him doing that. She agonised over whether or not to confide her fears in the old lady herself, then decided against it. Miss James rarely ventured out alone. She almost invariably had company that would act as protection. The best thing was to forget the whole episode.