The Long Arm of the Law by Martin Edwards

Author:Martin Edwards [Edwards, Martin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781464209079
Publisher: Poisoned Pen Press, Inc.
Published: 2017-09-04T07:00:00+00:00

Remember to Ring Twice

E.C.R. Lorac

Edith Caroline Rivett (1884–1959), or Carol Rivett as she was usually called, was born in Hendon and educated in London. Her first crime novel was The Murder in the Burrows (1931), and introduced her series detective Inspector Macdonald; it appeared under the pen-name E.C.R. Lorac, by which she ultimately became best known. From 1936, she also wrote another long series of books, this time featuring a cop called Julian Rivers, as Carol Carnac.

Macdonald is a quiet but persistent detective, cut from much the same cloth as Freeman Wills Crofts’ Inspector French, although unlike French (but like his creator) he is unmarried. He is a “London Scot”, who joined the Metropolitan Police after serving in the First World War. Many of his early cases are set in the capital, but in later years, Lorac made increasing use of Lunedale in north west England as a setting for his adventures. She was primarily a novelist; here is one of her few short stories, which first appeared in the Evening Standard in 1950.

***

When PC Tom Brandon told his friends that he wanted to get into the CID, they laughed at him.

Tom rather enjoyed the humdrum of patrol duty in the East End of London, but because he came from the Norfolk Broads he spent his free time sailing below the Pool of London. After sailing, he often turned into one of the riverside pubs, and sat over a pint.

He had two reasons for sitting in pubs: one was to get accustomed to the sound of East End cockney, which he found hard to understand at first; the other was to study human nature.

One March evening he sat in the bar of The Jolly Sailor in the Isle of Dogs. He heard the publican say: “Evening, Mr Copland,” and then a husky voice said:

“Why, Joe Copland, you’re the very bloke I ’oped to see. The same again twice, chum.”

***

Copland and his friend took their drinks.

“Cheers, Joe! ’Ow’s your job?”

“Lousy, Charlie. I’m ruddy well browned off with it.”

“Arr…I reckoned it wasn’t your job, Joe. Not good enough. Now I got a little idea. You know old ’Enery ’Iggs, ’im with the little baccy and newspaper shop along the road?”

“You bet I do, and a nice little business that is too, Charlie. A gold mine, not half. I wouldn’t mind that business myself.”

“Arr…you’re telling me,” wheezed Charlie. “Now strictly between you and me, ’Iggs is thinking of retiring, and we’ve been into it together.

“My friend Bert Williams wants to come in on it, but we needs a spot more capital. Now I says to Bert, wot about putting in Joe Copland as manager? There’d be a nice little flat for you and Clarrie over the shop, Joe.

“It’s ’ard on your missis not ’aving an ’ome of ’er own. That’s your auntie’s ’ouse you live in ain’t it, and Clarrie must get fed up lookin’ after the old lady.

“Now the point is, can you put up the needful?

“Five ’undred pounds it’d be, but a fair share o’ the profits to you, plus bonus, and the flat rent free.

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