‘Here you are, Ernie,’ he said. ‘I think it’s your turn.’

Harvey Marmion had acquired a well-deserved reputation for being conscientious and few people arrived earlier at Scotland Yard than he did. When he got there next morning, however, he discovered that the commissioner was already at his desk and in urgent need of help. Summoned by a secretary, Marmion hurried along the corridor and found that Sir Edward was besieged by Herbert Stone. The visitor wasted no time on pleasantries. With an accusatory glare, he turned his fire on the newcomer.

‘You’re as much to blame as anyone, Inspector,’ he said, puce with rage. ‘You should have arranged protection for me.’

‘Against what, Mr Stone?’ asked Marmion.

‘There’s been an incident,’ explained Sir Edward.

‘Yes, I heard about the car wheels being removed.’

‘This is more serious, Inspector. Some time in the night, Mr Stone’s car was set on fire.’

‘It was utterly destroyed,’ said Stone. ‘I left it at the garage to have new wheels put on and the windscreen repaired. Somebody broke in for the sole purpose of setting it alight.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that, sir,’ said Marmion.

‘You are indirectly responsible.’

‘I don’t accept that.’

‘Neither do I,’ said the commissioner.

‘The fire at the synagogue was a signal,’ argued Stone. ‘Whoever killed my brother is directing his aim at me.’

‘That’s a rather exaggerated claim,’ Marmion pointed out. ‘I know that you’re closely associated with the synagogue but so are lots of other people. Each of them might feel there was something personal in the attack. My own view is that it’s your brother’s link with it that may have provoked the outrage. When I released the body to Rabbi Hirsch,’ he remembered, ‘he told me that Jacob Stein had been his most generous benefactor.’

Stone shifted his feet. ‘My brother was a generous man.’

‘He was identified with that particular synagogue.’

‘So am I, Inspector — so am I!’

Stone was determined to portray himself as the victim of all the crimes so far committed. Marmion and the commissioner held their peace while their visitor insisted that his brother had been killed as a punishment for him, Herbert Stone, and that the attack on the synagogue and on his motor car were additional acts of persecution. When the man finally paused for breath, Marmion asked a question.

‘Can you name any discontented former employees?’

‘You already know them — Cyril Burridge and Howard Fine.’

‘I was thinking about people who worked for you in one of your warehouses, sir. As well as being a successful importer, I believe that you have widespread business interests. Can you think of anyone you sacked who might have taken umbrage?’

‘People often make wild threats when they’re dismissed,’ said Stone, flapping a hand, ‘but they rarely act on them.’

‘All the same, I think you should compile a list of names, sir.’

‘That’s sound advice,’ added the commissioner.

‘If you have become the target of someone with a grievance against you, then the culprit must lie in your past.’

Stone’s brow crinkled as he went slowly through a mental list. Marmion took the opportunity to exchange a glance with Sir Edward, who was clearly grateful for his arrival. The shop, the synagogue and the car were connected by one thing — fire. The pattern was clear. What Marmion could not fit so easily into it was the murder of Jacob Stein. Was that a parallel crime or one obscurely tied to the others? Herbert Stone came back to life again.

‘I can give you a few names,’ he conceded.

‘That would be very useful, sir,’ said Marmion. ‘And while we’re talking about employees with a potential grudge, why didn’t you tell me the real reason you sent Howard Fine packing?’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘You suspected that he was a homosexual.’

‘Really?’ exclaimed the commissioner. ‘That is a surprise.’

‘It was no surprise to me,’ said Stone, scowling. ‘I saw through his little charade the moment I laid eyes on him. For my brother’s sake, I gave Howard Fine the benefit of the doubt. When the truth became unequivocal, I sent him on his way.’

‘How did he react?’

‘It was with a barefaced denial, Inspector. But it was no use. I had evidence, you see. I’d hired a private detective to find out if his phantom wife really did exist.’

‘I’m not sure I’m following all this,’ said the commissioner.

‘He tried to pass himself off as a married man,’ said Marmion. ‘It was all a ruse behind which to hide his true sexuality. Not that I blame him for that. People take an unduly harsh view of men with those proclivities.’

‘They should be hanged, drawn and quartered,’ snarled Stone.

‘I don’t think that medieval barbarity is the answer, sir.’

‘I was not having that fop polluting my brother’s shop.’

‘I understood that he was a very skilful tailor.’

‘He was living a lie, Inspector. I exposed it.’

Stone made the announcement so grandiloquently that Marmion could imagine how much he must have enjoyed sacking Fine. He wondered how the tailor would have reacted. Instant dismissal would surely have had a profound effect on Fine and given him a strong motive to strike back. If that were the case, his target should have been Stone and not his brother. Marmion was confused.

‘When he was interviewed by Sergeant Keedy,’ he recalled, ‘Mr Fine claimed that he lived with his parents in Brighton.’

‘That was another lie,’ said Stone. ‘It’s true that he lives in the family house but his father is dead and his mother is in a nursing home.’ He smirked. ‘My private detective was very thorough.’

‘Perhaps you should have hired him to guard your car, sir.’

Stone glowered. ‘I find that remark flippant, Inspector.’

‘Then I withdraw it at once,’ said Marmion, pleased to see the smile on the commissioner’s face. ‘It was only a passing comment.’

‘What are you going to do about last night’s outrage?’

‘If you tell me the name of the garage, I’ll send detectives there to investigate. Meanwhile, I’d advise you to exercise caution. There does appear to be someone stalking you.’

‘I need a police bodyguard.’

‘I don’t believe that it’s justified, sir,’ said the commissioner.

‘But I’m under threat, Sir Edward,’ wailed Stone. ‘You’ve seen what they did to my car.’

‘That’s tantamount to an attack on your property, Mr Stone, but not on your person. If someone had designs on your life, they’d surely have struck by now.’

‘I agree with Sir Edward,’ said Marmion. ‘I don’t believe your life is in any way in danger. When I urge caution, I’m really asking you to keep your wits about you. The best way to avoid further incidents is to anticipate them. I believe you already have private security at your warehouses. Extend it to your other businesses.’

‘And even to your home,’ suggested the commissioner.

‘It’s your job to do that, Sir Edward,’ protested Stone.

‘Our job is to catch the person or persons responsible for all the crimes linked to your family. Once that is done, you’ll be liberated from any perceived threat.’

Stone got up in a huff. ‘I knew I was wasting my time asking for help. Your attitude is disgraceful.’

‘Before you go, sir,’ said Marmion, pencil and pad in hand, ‘I’d like the name and address of the garage. Then there’s the list of people who may feel offended at the way you dispensed with their services.’

Snatching pencil and pad from him, Stone scribbled several lines then paused while he checked the list. He added another name and address then thrust the pad back at Marmion. Slapping the pencil down on the desk, he muttered a farewell and stormed out. The others sighed with relief.

‘I’m so glad you came to my rescue,’ said the commissioner, gratefully. ‘Mr Stone was already here when I arrived. He seems to think that Scotland Yard exists solely to deal with problems relating to him and his family.’