‘Turned out he dismissed Talbot for thieving. Threatened him with the police if he didn’t return what he’d stolen. Looks as if Talbot couldn’t hold a job well.’
The superintendent stroked his chin. ‘It’s interesting, but I don’t see that it has much bearing on this.’
‘He was nicking silver. He could have known Willie Calder then, sir,’ Conway said.
Maybe he had. But everyone who knew the truth was dead. And it was history, and didn’t have any bearing on the killing that he could see.
‘Good work,’ he said. The man had followed the trail. He was eager. ‘See what you can find that’s more recent.’
The young man blushed. ‘Yes, sir.’ He hesitated. ‘I’m sorry about Mr Kendall. I didn’t know him, but …’
‘We’ll miss him. All the force will.’
NINETEEN
‘Tom,’ she began, arms around him, gently stroking his hair.
As soon as he’d come through the door he held her. He needed the warmth, the life of another person. Harper had taken his time, staying at Millgarth until dusk had fallen, then walking home.
He’d cut through the Leylands, wandering along Noble Street where he’d grown up. At one time he’d known who lived in every house. Now they were filled with families from Russia and other countries he couldn’t even name. The ones who’d been here before had moved or died. In their place were people looking for the chance to live, for their children to grow. Times changed.
He didn’t need to explain to Annabelle. That was why he loved her. Simply being here, with her and Mary, made his life easier. Harper pulled away from his wife and cracked the bedroom door open to watch his daughter sleeping, standing long enough to have the sense of her breathing and know she was safe.
In the kitchen, Annabelle pulled a plate from the oven. ‘I kept it warm for you.’
He ate without even noticing the food. It was something to put in his mouth and chew.
‘How’s Mrs Kendall?’ she asked when he’d finished.
‘Relieved, I think,’ he answered after a moment.
‘It’s better than pain,’ she said.
‘Yes.’ He remembered the man coming into Millgarth, terrified as he tried to breathe. Or old and fragile in his own parlour. Yes, he thought, perhaps this was for the best.
Everything had happened so suddenly, as if everything he’d known of Kendall was a house of cards that tumbled. It was like one of those films they’d seen the other night, moving from health through illness to death in a few blinks of the eye.
‘You know, the problem isn’t the people we care about dying,’ Annabelle said. She took hold of his hand, squeezing it gently as she looked into his eyes.
‘Isn’t it?’ he asked in surprise.
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s the rest of us, everyone left behind. The dead have gone, they don’t know anything. We’re here with the holes in our lives. I’ve been thinking about it since Maguire died.’
He realized she was right. They were the ones who remained to count up the memories and feel the sorrow.
A funeral wreath hung on the door of the station. At the front desk, Tollman had found a framed photograph of Kendall in his superintendent’s uniform and placed it on the counter.
‘The service will be next week sir,’ the sergeant said. ‘Small do. Family. Burying him at St George’s Fields.’
Harper nodded and walked through to his office. Ash sat at his desk, nib scratching on the paper as he wrote up a report.
‘Tell me you’ve found something.’
‘I think I have, sir.’ For a second he could feel his spirits rising, then the inspector continued, ‘It’s not about Henry White or Willie Calder, though.’
‘Go on.’
‘The acid, sir. I really believe we’re getting close. Last night I visited one of those families that left the Baptist church.’ Harper waited. ‘They have a little girl, same age as our Martha was when we took her in.’ His mouth creased into a smile. ‘When I asked why they didn’t go to services or send the lass to Sunday school any more, they went quiet.’
‘What do you mean? They didn’t want to say?’
‘Exactly, sir. I pushed them a bit but they didn’t want to talk. On top of what Mr Reed learned, it’s making me wonder.’
‘There were two families, weren’t there?’ He seemed to recall that.
‘That’s right. I’m off to see the other one tonight.’ Ash raised an eyebrow. ‘I left a message for Mr Reed. I thought he might fancy coming along.’
‘I bet he would.’ Maybe they’d be able to solve this bloody case, at least.
The day dragged. A long meeting with the chief constable about the way MacDonald and his shotgun could hold a police station hostage. For the better part of an hour Harper made suggestions and the chief turned down every single one of them. In the end they’d achieved nothing and he left, fuming inside at the waste of time.
Then the divisional meeting, all the superintendents together. Kendall’s funeral wasn’t an official affair, but he’d guessed correctly; there would be a memorial service with every available officer in attendance. That had to be planned, people delegated to take care of all the details.
By the time he stood on the Town Hall steps and looked up at the pale spring sky, it was almost four o’clock. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
A roast beef sandwich and a cup of hot sweet tea from the cart on Butts Court, off behind the Green Dragon. Then back to the grind, the mountain of paper that would be waiting. New rules, regulations, committees. He sighed at the thought.
Conway was in the detectives’ room with Sergeant Calder from Hunslet, deep in a discussion that tailed off as he entered.
‘Something new on Talbot?’ Harper asked.
‘I was telling Mark that I got a whisper earlier, sir.’ Calder breathed and beer fumes filled the room. ‘I was down at the Garden Gate public house and one of the lads I often use for information said something. It seems Talbot charged people to take things in to the prisoners at Armley. No one searched him because he was a guard.’ Harper nodded and the man continued. ‘The way I heard it, he got a bit greedy. Started wanting too much for his services, and some people weren’t happy.’
‘So he could have been killed for that?’ Harper considered it. Plausible, beyond a doubt. But inside he didn’t believe a word. The story felt too neat, the timing wrong, just after the murder in the jail. It was too pat. ‘Who told you?’ he asked.
‘My man’s reliable, sir,’ Calder said. ‘I’ve been hunting for someone to back it up. No luck so far.’
‘I’m not so sure about it, but keep trying.’ The superintendent nodded and turned to Conway. ‘What about you?’
The sergeant shrugged. ‘I feel like I’ve spent the day pounding my head against brick walls, sir. I’m sorry.’
‘Sometimes it’s like that.’ He knew the feeling, knew it well. ‘Too often.’ He turned away, asking, ‘Sergeant Calder, can I have a word, please?’
‘Sir?’ the man asked once they were alone.
‘Do you think that rumour about Talbot is true?’
‘Honestly, sir?’ the sergeant asked. ‘It sounded good at first, but not turning anything else up …’ He let the sentence drift away.
‘I understand that you didn’t know about your brother’s illegal business.’
Calder straightened his back and stood a little taller. ‘I told you I didn’t, sir,’ he replied firmly. ‘I’d have turned him in.’
‘Calm down,’ Harper said. ‘No one’s accusing you. But Willie was your brother. I need to know if there’s anyone you can think of who might want to kill him.’
‘Sir, as far as I knew, he was a senior clerk. Nothing more. He had a job, he went to work every day.’ The sergeant kept his eyes straight ahead as he stood to attention, but his voice had softened. ‘I saw him a few times a year, sir, but that’s all. We’ve never been a close family, if you know what I mean. There’s me, two sisters, and Willie. Was, anywa
y,’ he corrected himself.
‘What about your wife? Did she know her sister-in-law well?’
‘She’s dead, sir. I’m a widower.’
‘I’m sorry.’ He ought to learn about the men and avoid stupid mistakes, he thought.
‘It was quite a while ago, sir.’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘I’ve been racking my brain about Willie. I’m a copper, I should be able to spot a wrong ’un by now. But I never noticed a thing.’
‘He’s family. You wouldn’t expect it.’
‘Maybe so,’ Calder agreed with a sigh. ‘Like I say, I didn’t see him too often. But there was nothing flashy about his house. Nothing obvious.’
‘I saw it,’ Harper agreed. ‘Keep thinking. I need whatever help you can give. Right now we’ve found bugger all.’
‘I just never knew my brother well, sir. I’m sorry.’
‘Thank you.’
It didn’t matter which way they moved, it swiftly came to nothing. There had to be an answer somewhere. A path that would lead them neatly from Talbot to Willie Calder and then to Henry White. He knew the connection was there. All they had to do was find it and follow it.
Afternoon began to fade into evening, the sky reddening off to the west. Sometimes it was hard to tell with the pall of smoke hanging over Leeds. But the relentless tick of the clock on the wall marked the hours.
Finally, Harper gave up. It had been a frustrating day, but so many were like that, always had been. Most crimes were solved quickly, in less than a day. But so many were simple affairs, built on passion or anger, or committed by people so stupid they were easy to catch.
It was the ones like this that caught in the craw.
He scarcely noticed the tram journey, couldn’t recall whose faces he greeted in the bar. Harper was simply glad to open the door and be in his own parlour. Before he could remove his coat, Mary had dashed across to wrap her arms around his leg, and he hoisted her up into his arms.
This was what made it all worthwhile. His daughter, his wife. This was why he could accept all the failures and mistakes at work.
‘What have you been doing today?’ he asked as he carried her through to the kitchen, past the political books and the draft of a speech on the table.
‘I hope you’re hungry,’ Annabelle called. ‘I made more of the cottage pie than I thought.’
He smiled.
‘Are you ready?’ Ash asked. They stood at the end of a street in Burmantofts, decent through terraces with front gardens the size of postage stamps. Most had plants neatly growing, everything carefully weeded, tended with pride.
Reed took the last couple of puffs on his cigarette and ground it out under his boot. He was wearing a coat over his fire brigade uniform. In his belly he could feel the bubbling, the way it had always been, all the way back to the army when he was preparing for action. The anticipation.
Side by side, they strolled down the street and knocked on the door of number forty-one. The sky had darkened, night was close. He could hear the voices and laughter suddenly stop inside.
‘Mr Cecil Lester?’ The man nodded, looking from one face to the other. ‘I’m Inspector Ash with Leeds City Police. This is Inspector Reed. Would you mind if we came in for a quick word? It won’t take long.’
‘All right. Just give me a minute.’ It was both question and statement. The man closed the door on the latch. A few words, then hurried footsteps.
Ash took off running.
They’d been had. Christ, Reed thought. The oldest trick in the world and they’d fallen for it. Both of them. They should have known better. Lester had darted out of the back door, through the yard and into the ginnel. And here he was, standing on the front step like a bloody spare part.
He brought his fist down on the wood. ‘Mrs Lester,’ he shouted. ‘Police.’
She was a timid woman, perched on the edge of her chair and constantly turning her head towards the back door, as if her husband might return at any moment.
The children were upstairs; he could hear them. The soft murmur of voices, footsteps moving around and trying to be quiet.
‘How old are they?’ Reed raised his eyes towards the ceiling.
‘Ten, eight, seven, six.’ The words came out as a mumbled rush.
‘We have four,’ he told her. ‘All working now, except the youngest. He’s staying in school a year or two longer.’ Reed smiled. ‘He’s the one with the brains.’
A quick tap on the door and Ash entered, shaking his head, his face grim. He took a seat to the side, ready to listen.
‘Why did your husband run off, Mrs Lester?’ Reed asked.
‘I’ve no idea,’ she replied. But it was a lie; they all knew the truth. She kept her eyes down, not looking at them.
‘Has he done something bad?’
The silence hung, bleak and heavy.
‘Does it have something to do with your daughter?’ Ash asked, his voice so soft it seemed as if they might have imagined it. The woman took a deep breath and nodded.
Reed sat. The other man seemed to strike an immediate connection with her; better to let him work and hear some answers.
It came out slowly, hesitantly. The family had moved to Leeds from Barnsley. They’d always been chapelgoers and started attending services as soon as they settled in the house. The little ones began going to the Sunday school. Jack Crabtree taught the class. Everyone knew the Crabtrees, they took part in all the church events. People liked them. People trusted them.
At first they didn’t believe the things Sarah said. She was only eight, after all. Girls imagined things at that age. She could have had the devil in her. Her father took his belt to her to drive out the evil. But Mrs Lester noticed the change, the way the girl became quiet, crying often. That was impossible to ignore. So was the blood on her drawers.
Sarah wouldn’t say. After all the disbelief and the punishment, who could blame her? Slowly, though, her mother wormed it out of her. After the Sunday school class was done, Jack Crabtree was pleasing himself with Sarah and another girl.
‘When did you tell your husband?’ Ash asked.
‘After I’d talked to the mother of the other lass.’ She raised her head defiantly. ‘They needed to know, they had the right. She talked to her husband and they went to the pastor. After that, they left the chapel. I had a word with my Cecil. He went down there, and the pastor turned him away. Said Jack Crabtree would never be like that and our Sarah was making it up. We never went back after that.’
Reed could have cut the atmosphere in the room with a knife.
‘Where did your husband buy the acid, Mrs Lester?’ Ash shifted slightly on his seat, voice still low and calm.
‘At the chemist, I suppose.’ She blinked. ‘I didn’t know until it had all happened.’
‘How did you find out?’
‘I heard about it and asked him.’ She shook her head. ‘He’s never been any good at lying to me.’
‘Why did he go after the boy?’ Reed asked the question almost before realizing he’d spoken.
‘He said that Jack Crabtree had made our Sarah suffer so he was going to do the same to his family. That lass in the shop, he really didn’t mean to hurt her,’ she added, regret filling her voice. ‘Honest, he didn’t.’
‘You know that young Arthur Crabtree didn’t have anything to do with it. He was innocent.’ Ash’s voice was little more than a whisper.
The tears flowed down her cheeks. ‘I didn’t know he was going to do it or I’d have stopped him. I know it’s not the lad’s fault. But the sins of the fathers, that’s what my Cecil thought.’
‘Mrs Lester, do you know where your husband’s gone?’
She shook her head again. ‘I’ve been expecting you lot since I found out. I never asked him what he’d do.’
‘We’ll find him,’ Reed told her. ‘He has to pay for what he’s done. You understand that, don’t you?’
‘I do.’ With those words all the heart drained out of her. ‘Every night I think about th
at lad and that lass. None of it’s their fault. It’s Jack Crabtree. He’s evil, that’s all it is. And he made my Cecil evil with him.’
She was empty. Everything she’d been keeping inside had flowed away and she had nothing more to give them. Reed believed her. She truly had no idea where her husband had gone. The man probably didn’t have a plan. He’d show up, sooner rather than later. The beat bobby would keep an eye on the house and on his work.
Outside, it was full dark. Somehow the night felt empty.
‘Good God, that’s a bleak story,’ Reed said as he lit a cigarette.
‘Always the children who suffer, isn’t it?’ Ash asked. He pulled out his pocket watch. ‘About time to go over to Crabtree’s house and arrest him, if you want to come along.’
‘Arrest him? You’ll never get the evidence.’
‘Maybe I won’t. But happen he might want to admit it all after a little questioning.’
Reed stared at him, remembering the girl that Ash and his wife had adopted a few years before. She’d been sold to some men. Who knew all the things that had happened to her? Ash would batter the truth out of Crabtree, but make sure nothing showed. Or perhaps he wouldn’t need to. He was big enough; perhaps threats would be ample.
At one time, Reed would have relished helping. He knew all the tricks to use, exactly how rough to be. But now he realized that he didn’t have the stomach for it any longer. His life had changed. He’d help with the arrest, then walk away.
‘We’d better go before it’s too late.’
Ash gave a dark smile. ‘We’ll have Cecil Lester before you know it, too. He doesn’t seem like the type who’ll go on the run well.’
‘Crabtree’s admitted it?’ Harper asked.
‘He has, sir.’ Ash’s knuckles were red and swollen; he rubbed them lightly. ‘I had it all written out and he signed it. It wasn’t just Sarah Lester and the other girl. There were quite a few more over the years, apparently.’
And who would ever know all their names, the superintendent wondered? The innocent, the ones who couldn’t defend themselves. Arthur Crabtree, Annie from the bakery, they’d carry the scars on their faces as long as they lived. But the Lester girl and the others, they’d have their wounds, too. Ones they could never talk about, ones that didn’t show on the skin.
On Copper Street Page 18
