Timetable of Death (18 page)

‘Are you going back to London to see Mrs Colbeck?’

‘That’s not a treat, Victor, it’s a positive luxury and hopelessly beyond my reach at the moment. No, I’m going to have a tour of the Derby Works.’

Leeming was shocked. ‘You’re going to look at
engines
?’

‘I want to see the whole production process.’

‘What’s that got to do with a murder case?’

‘It may have more relevance than you think,’ said Colbeck. ‘While you were talking to that young reporter, I had a word with Mr Cope about visiting the Works. He was only too glad to arrange it and to accompany me. In other words …’

‘He wants to keep an eye on you and report back to Mr Haygarth.’

‘Maurice Cope is his spymaster. He seemed to know exactly what we’ve been doing since we got here. It’s one of the reasons I suggested a walk before dinner. At least we can talk freely out here in the street without fear of being overheard.’

‘Do you think they’ve had someone following us?’

‘Cope is getting his information somehow, Victor.’

‘I’d better start looking over my shoulder.’

They strolled on companionably in silence until the Royal Hotel eventually came into view. When they saw a sturdy figure standing outside the main entrance and paying a cab driver, Leeming gave a short laugh.

‘What’s the trouble, Victor?’

‘For one horrible moment, I thought that man was Superintendent Tallis.’

‘Your eyes did not deceive you,’ said Colbeck, easily. ‘It
is
him. I had a feeling that he’d turn up sooner or later because my reports weren’t able to disguise the fact that we’ve made no significant advances in this investigation. He’ll be able to join us for dinner.’

‘I won’t be able to eat a thing with the superintendent there.’

‘His presence won’t hamper my digestion in the least. Strangely enough – and don’t ask me to explain this – I’m rather pleased to see him.’

Female company was something that Madeleine Colbeck had learnt to do without. There were maidservants and a cook in the house but that was not the same as having a woman with whom she could talk on equal terms. Though her aunt paid occasional visits, the age gap between them inevitably steered the conversation in set directions. Being an artist meant that Madeleine had of necessity to spend a great deal of time on her own and she relished that solitude. It was only when she was not at work that she felt lonely. Now that she had a guest of her own age, she realised how much she had been missing.

‘It was so kind of you to offer me accommodation,’ said Lydia Quayle. ‘I’d expected to stay at a hotel.’

‘You’re very welcome here.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Colbeck.’

‘It’s a pleasure, Miss Quayle.’ Madeleine laughed. ‘This is ridiculous,’ she said. ‘If we’re going to have dinner together,
I think we can dispense with the formalities, don’t you? Please use my Christian name.’

‘And you must do the same, Madeleine.’

‘I will, Lydia.’

It was a step forward and each of them appreciated it. Madeleine had not merely invited her to stay out of kindness. She wanted her visitor to have time to consider her decision to return home in the certain knowledge that there would be some domestic upheaval as a result. Lydia had been ready to set off there and then but she was persuaded to postpone the journey to Nottingham until the following day. It gave them the opportunity to get to know each other better.

‘Why didn’t you give your name when you called here?’ asked Madeleine.

‘I wasn’t sure that you’d wish to see me.’

‘But I volunteered my address.’

‘You did that out of kindness,’ said Lydia. ‘I wasn’t certain that you’d really want me to come here with my tale of woe. Because I didn’t give my name, I knew I’d at least get to see you. Curiosity would have brought you out.’

‘It did. I was puzzled.’

They were in the drawing room, awaiting the summons to dine. Lydia was relieved and reassured. In coming to the house, she’d not only found someone who’d accompany her to Nottingham, she’d made a real friend. Something else struck her. Alone with Madeleine, she was able to act and feel her own age. Looking back, she saw that life with Beatrice Myler had put unlived years on her. Lydia had dressed, thought and behaved as an older woman. Maturity had been a comforting shell into which she’d willingly climbed. Now, however, the comfort came from
being with someone who made her feel younger and more alive.

‘I didn’t realise that the police employed women,’ she said.

‘They don’t,’ said Madeleine, ‘and you must never tell anyone that I came to see you. Scotland Yard would never dream of letting women become detectives. I’ve only been involved because my husband believes that I have something to offer that neither he nor Sergeant Leeming possesses.’

‘It’s true. I could never have talked as openly to the sergeant as I have to you.’

‘I take that as a compliment.’

‘I trusted you, Madeleine.’

‘Then I hope I can repay that trust,’ said Madeleine. ‘On one issue, I’m afraid, I have to disappoint you. I won’t be able to go to your home. I’m happy to accompany you to Nottingham to lend some moral support but, if I’m introduced to your family as Inspector Colbeck’s wife, it could well compromise the whole investigation.’

‘I don’t wish to get you or the inspector into any trouble.’

‘Thank you, Lydia.’

‘Would your husband lose his job as a result?’

‘Oh, I don’t think they’d be foolish enough to dismiss him altogether. He’s far too valuable a detective to cast aside. But there would be a lot of embarrassment and he might even be demoted.’

‘I don’t want that to happen,’ said Lydia, worriedly.

‘Neither do I. As it happens, I have been in a position to help with certain investigations in the past but that fact has had to be suppressed. Superintendent Tallis takes a dim
view of women altogether,’ said Madeleine. ‘If he knew that my husband had actually dared to call on my services, the superintendent would roast him alive.’

Edward Tallis surprised them both. Instead of descending on them in a fit of wrath, he’d come, in the spirit of enquiry, to find out exactly what was going on. His manner was calm and his tongue lacking its usual asperity. Colbeck and Leeming could not remember the last time he’d been in such a quiescent mood. Neither of them realised that, in coming to Derby, he’d been escaping from London and from the scorn of the commissioner. At the bookstall in King’s Cross railway station, Tallis had taken the trouble to buy a copy of the offending edition of
Punch
and he’d chuckled at the way his superior had been pilloried, his amusement edged with relief that he hadn’t been the target this time.

Instead of being unable to touch his food, Leeming ate heartily and left the senior officers to do most of the talking. All three of them found the lamb and mint sauce to their taste. Tallis dabbed at his mouth with a napkin to remove the specks of gravy from his moustache.

‘How would you summarise this case, Colbeck?’

‘I’d do so in two words, sir.’

‘And what might they be?’

‘Confusion and error,’ muttered Leeming.

Colbeck smiled. ‘We’ve encountered both since we’ve been here,’ he agreed, ‘but I had two different words in mind – coal and silk.’

‘Explain,’ said Tallis.

‘The products define the battle for the chairmanship of the Midland Railway, sir. Mr Quayle made his fortune out
of coal while Mr Haygarth lives in luxury on the profits of his silk mills. Coal is hard while silk is soft. In some ways,’ argued Colbeck, ‘they help to characterise the two men. We never knew Mr Quayle but we met his elder son who’s been likened to him in every way.’ He turned to Leeming. ‘How would you describe Stanley Quayle?’

‘Cold and hard.’

‘Just like a piece of coal. What about Mr Haygarth?’

‘Smooth and snake-like.’

‘Just like a bolster of silk.’

‘I’m trying hard to follow your reasoning,’ complained Tallis.

‘It’s quite simple, sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘The one has ousted the other. From what we can gather, Mr Quayle was a natural leader, respected, strong-willed and resilient in the face of the many difficulties that have afflicted this railway company. He’s been supplanted by a more subtle, guileful and sinister rival.’

‘Are you saying that Mr Haygarth is behind the murder?’

‘He’s the one who stands to gain most out of it, sir.’

‘Then why insist on calling on you to lead the investigation?’

‘He wants to gain kudos by appearing to make every effort to solve this crime while confident that a solution is beyond me.’

‘I still think that Hockaday had a part in it,’ asserted Leeming. ‘He’s not clever enough to set the whole thing up by himself but he’d be a willing helper if there was money in it. That brings us back to the person best placed to employ the cobbler to do his dirty work for him – Superintendent Wigg.’

‘That’s a ludicrous suggestion,’ said Tallis.

‘We’ve met corrupt policemen before, sir.’

‘You hardly need to tell me that, Leeming. I’ve had to dismiss too many of them. Inspector Alban Kee was an example. I’ll have no fraudsters or bribe-takers under my command. Now, I’ve never met this Superintendent Wigg,’ he went on, ‘but I find it hard to believe that anyone in his position would condone – let alone, incite – murder. Haygarth stands to gain from the death but Wigg was bound to lose. He’d merely be replacing one person he loathed by another. What’s the point of that?’

‘The superintendent’s brother is a pharmacist, sir,’ Leeming reminded him.

‘That’s an irrelevance.’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Then you must learn to focus your mind, Sergeant.’

Tallis went on to give a searching analysis of the evidence so far gathered and showed that he’d been listening very carefully. While conceding that Haygarth had to be a major suspect, his instinct was that a much younger man was involved.

‘Gerard Burns is the most likely killer,’ he concluded.

‘I thought that until I met him,’ said Colbeck.

‘What changed your mind?’

‘I tried to look at him from the point of view of his employers, sir. He was well paid and given an important job by Mr Quayle. Burns clearly did it very well. It was only when he strayed away from it that the trouble started.’

‘He suffered physical injury on Quayle’s orders. An urge for revenge must still burn inside him.’

‘It does, Superintendent, and he won’t gainsay that.
But think of the man who indirectly pays his wages now. Every servant and gardener at Melbourne Hall would have been subjected to rigorous scrutiny before they were taken on. Rare as his visits to Derbyshire are, the prime minister would not want potential killers among his staff. In essence,’ said Colbeck, ‘Burns is an excellent gardener so committed to his trade that he doesn’t have the time or the inclination to avenge an old slight.’

‘It was much more than a slight,’ said Tallis. ‘My money is on him.’

‘We know that Burns was in Derby on the night of the murder,’ added Leeming. ‘Why won’t he tell you where he went?’

‘Perhaps I should have a word with him.’

‘No, no, sir,’ said Colbeck, hastily, ‘that would be unwise. If Gerard Burns
is
our man – and I’m not convinced of that – we should leave him alone and let him think he’s got away with it. If he really is the killer, we’ll amass the evidence that will put a noose around his neck. However, I still think him innocent.’

‘You prefer to see him in terms of his work,’ said Tallis, ‘and choose to forget the scandal he caused at the Quayle household. In my opinion, that’s a more accurate reflection of his character. He’s sly, deceitful and a practised libertine.’

‘What he was drawn into was a genuine romance, sir.’

‘Burns has no moral compass.’

‘Miss Quayle doesn’t believe that, sir,’ recalled Leeming. ‘She loved him for his good qualities. I told you how well she spoke of him.’

‘The fellow was bent on deflowering her.’

An awkward pause ensured. When he realised that he was
talking about a gardener, Tallis was embarrassed that he’d chosen that particular word. Colbeck and Leeming traded a glance but said nothing, all too conscious that romance had passed the superintendent by. Tallis neither understood nor approved of relations between the two sexes. If the subject came up, therefore, it was better to let him rehearse his prejudices without challenging them.

‘Where do we go from here?’ he asked.

‘There’s a rather tempting dessert menu in front of you,’ Colbeck pointed out.

‘I’m asking whom you will question tomorrow.’

‘Well, I’m going to see that pharmacist in Belper,’ said Leeming.

‘Save yourself the trouble. Colbeck?’

‘I plan to visit the Quayle family again, sir.’

‘Good,’ said Tallis. ‘I’ll come with you.’

Colbeck sighed. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t impose on you, sir.’

‘Never spurn the assistance of your superior. Besides, a second opinion is always wise.’ He stroked his moustache. ‘Now pass that menu and I’ll see if it contains anything to tempt my palate.’

Jed Hockaday was a different man in uniform. He looked bigger, broader and more upright. His swagger became more pronounced. Having finished work at his shop, he’d closed it up, eaten a frugal meal then stepped out into the streets of Spondon as a police constable. His footsteps took him in the direction of the railway station. Long before he reached it, he heard the train that he was supposed to meet arriving with its customary pandemonium. The cobbler soon saw a uniformed figure leaving the station
amid a knot of other passengers. He waited until Elijah Wigg reached him.

‘I expected you on the station platform,’ said Wigg.

‘I’m sorry, sir. I was late closing up.’

‘Punctuality matters. It’s a mark of respect.’

‘It won’t happen again, Superintendent.’

Wigg fell in beside him and they walked back towards the village.

‘What do you have to report?’

‘They’ve found nothing.’

‘Are they still burrowing away?’

‘Yes,’ said Hockaday, ‘but it won’t do them any good.’

‘I hope that’s the case, Constable.’

‘It is, sir. What I don’t see with my own eyes, other people tell me about. They’ve both been here – Inspector Colbeck and the sergeant – but they don’t know where to look.’

‘That’s good to hear.’

‘The real nuisance is that reporter from the
Mercury
.’

‘Do you mean Conway?’

‘That’s him,’ said Hockaday with a malevolent smile. ‘He’s too clever for his own good. Ever since it happened, he’s been here like a bloodhound in search of a scent. And he’s more likely to find one than the detectives.’

‘Has Conway been bothering you?’

‘Yes, sir – do you know him?’

‘I make it my business to know all the staff on the
Mercury
. Most of them are well-intentioned bumblers but Conway sticks out. Young men with ambitions are always dangerous.’

‘He and Sergeant Leeming are becoming good friends.’

‘I’m not sure I like the sound of that,’ said Wigg, caressing
both of his side whiskers simultaneously. ‘We don’t want them to get too close.’

‘No,’ said the other, ‘Conway is enough of a nuisance as it is.’

‘I’ll see what I can do. Perhaps I’ll have a word with the editor and see if he can move Conway away from Spondon.’

‘I tried to frighten him off, Superintendent.’

‘Did it work?’

‘That’s the trouble. I’m not sure.’

They were almost late for their train. As the cab was about to set off, Madeleine Colbeck remembered something she’d forgotten and rushed back into the house. During the long minutes her friend was away, Lydia Quayle was fretting, afraid that their train would go without them and that they’d be forced to wait for a later one. As it was, Madeleine came out with a flurry of apologies, clambered into the cab and asked the driver to take them to King’s Cross. In spite of heavy traffic, they got there with plenty of time to spare. Since they shared a first-class compartment with other travellers, the two women found it impossible to have a proper conversation. It was only when their companions got off at Bedford that they were able to talk properly.