‘Mr Tarleton might have deliberately sent us astray.’
‘Why should he do that?’
‘To get us out of the way so that he could make his escape.’
‘I’ve told you,’ said Colbeck. ‘He was not party to the murder. Had he been so, he’d have turned tail the moment that he realised that we knew he’d been in touch with Bruntcliffe.’
‘He must be involved in the murder somehow,’ argued Leeming. ‘What’s that Latin tag you’re always quoting at me?’
‘Cui bono? Who stands to benefit?’
‘The answer is Adam Tarleton. He’ll certainly benefit.’
‘So will his sister but I’m not accusing Mrs Doel of killing their mother, am I? Forget them for the moment. The person of real interest to us is Bruntcliffe.’
As if on cue, a horseman suddenly emerged from the stable ahead of them, kicking his mount into a gallop and heading off in the opposite direction. Colbeck didn’t hesitate. Flicking the reins and digging in his heels, he set his own horse off at full speed. Leeming was terrified to coax a faster pace out of the mare so he settled for following the others at a gentle canter. Bruntcliffe was over a hundred yards ahead of the pursuing Colbeck, stinging the horse with his whip to keep it running at full pelt. Every so often, he tossed a worried glance over his shoulder. Colbeck was slowly gaining on him, riding hell for leather and ignoring the fact that his hat had blown off. In his experience, flight was usually a confession of guilt. If Bruntcliffe had been innocent, he would have stayed at the cottage to be interviewed by the detectives. That thought made Colbeck even more resolute. He recalled the appalling state of Miriam Tarleton’s body when it was unearthed in the woods. The man responsible for her death simply had to be caught, tried and hanged.
As Colbeck surged on with his frock coat flapping in the wind, Leeming was almost half a mile behind him. The gap between quarry and hunter slowly and inexorably closed. When it was down to forty yards, Bruntcliffe became desperate. Unable to outrun the pursuit, he opted for a different method of escape, wheeling his horse in a tight circle so that he headed straight at Colbeck. The inspector could see what the intention was. Bruntcliffe wanted to knock him from the saddle, take his horse by the reins and ride off with both animals. Slowing his mount with a sharp tug, Colbeck reacted instinctively. As the other man came at him with his whip raised, Colbeck slipped his feet from the stirrups and raised an arm to ward off the blow. The moment that Bruntcliffe struck, he was knocked from the saddle as Colbeck lunged across at him and tackled him around the waist. The two of them fell to the ground with a thud and rolled over on the grass, leaving the horses to run on without riders.
Both were dazed by the impact but Colbeck was the first to recover. Staggering to his feet, he took his captive by the collar and hauled him upright. Bruntcliffe was ready to fight. As his head cleared, he swung a fist drunkenly but it was easily parried. By way of retaliation, Colbeck punched him hard in the stomach then caught him with an uppercut on the chin. The resistance was over. Dazed by the blow, Bruntcliffe slumped to the ground. It gave Colbeck the time to examine the grass stains on his coat and trousers. As he hit the other man from the saddle, he’d also torn a sleeve open. That was irritating to a dandy like him. He was grateful that he’d collected a change of apparel during his short visit to London.
Bruntcliffe rubbed his bruised chin and looked up at him.
‘How did you know that it was me?’ he asked, sullenly.
‘You gave yourself away by bolting like that.’
‘What else was I supposed to do? Wait to be arrested? Adam told me that two detectives had come from London. When I saw the pair of you coming towards the cottage, I guessed who you might be.’
‘I am Inspector Colbeck,’ said the other, offering a hand and pulling him to his feet. ‘Michael Bruntcliffe, I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Miriam Tarleton.’
Bruntcliffe was staggered. ‘What did you say?’
‘I think you heard me clearly, sir.’
‘I had nothing whatsoever to do with the murder. I’ve never even met Adam’s mother. Why should I want to kill her?’
‘It was in order to get your revenge on the colonel.’
‘Ah,’ said Bruntcliffe, sourly, ‘that’s a different matter.’
‘Is that why you were running away?’ asked Colbeck, thinking about the incident in the churchyard. ‘You pulled down that cross last night, didn’t you?’
‘It was only because that venomous old bastard put it there.’
‘Didn’t you think of the offence it would cause?’
‘What about the offence the colonel caused me?’ rejoined Bruntcliffe. ‘Do you know what it’s like being locked up in prison for something that was simply a joke?’
‘You deserved the sentence you got,’ said Colbeck. ‘Painting out public signs could put people in danger. If they can’t read a warning, they can’t exercise caution.’ He grabbed him by the throat and pulled him close. ‘What else did you do to get your revenge on the colonel?’
‘I did nothing at all.’
‘I think you did, Mr Bruntcliffe. I think you sent him some of those evil letters he received. You wanted to goad and taunt him. You wanted to make him suffer, didn’t you?’ He tightened his grip until the other man spluttered. ‘Didn’t you?’
‘Yes,’ admitted Bruntcliffe, baring his teeth. ‘That’s exactly what I did. I wanted to torment him.’
‘Those letters helped to push him towards suicide.’
‘Then I’m glad I sent some of them.’
‘Let’s see if you still feel the same when we take you to court.’
‘I confess that I sent the letters and pulled down that cross, Inspector,’ said Bruntcliffe with gabbled sincerity, ‘but I swear, in the name of God, that I didn’t murder Adam’s mother. On the day that it happened, I wasn’t even in the county. I was in Lincoln. That’s the truth.’
He broke off as Leeming arrived, riding one horse and towing another by the rein. He had also collected Colbeck’s hat and handed it to him as he dismounted.
‘Thank you, Victor,’ said Colbeck, releasing his prisoner.
‘I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep up with you, sir.’
‘I managed without you this time. I’ve got a use for those handcuffs now,’ he went on, turning to Bruntcliffe. ‘This is Sergeant Leeming and he’d like you to hold out your wrists.’
Glowering at both of them, Bruntcliffe obeyed. Leeming snapped the handcuffs into place then gave a triumphant grin.
‘We’ve finally solved the murder,’ he said, happily, ‘and stopped Mr Tallis descending on us tomorrow.’
‘Don’t celebrate too soon,’ warned Colbeck. ‘This gentleman has admitted freely that he committed certain crimes but murder is not one of them. I’m inclined to believe him.’
Leeming was shaken. ‘But he was seen getting his blood money from Adam Tarleton.’
‘What blood money?’ demanded Bruntcliffe.
‘You were out riding with him. When you got close to his house, he handed over your payment. We have a witness.’
‘Then he must be half-blind. The only time I had money from Adam was when I came out of prison, and he was repaying a loan I’d made to him in the past. He’s a good friend and the only one to stand by me when I was locked up.’
‘So what did he give you that day?’ asked Leeming.
‘He gave me something better than money,’ replied Bruntcliffe with a smirk. ‘He gave me a letter of introduction to the lady who owns the cottage where I spent the last two nights. Adam told me that I’d be sure of a warm welcome there and I’ve no complaints. It was where he used to stay when he came back to Yorkshire without telling his mother or his stepfather.’ He pointed in the direction of the cottage. ‘Ask the lady, if you don’t believe me.’
‘We will, sir,’ said Colbeck.
‘One thing I must stress. She didn’t know she was harbouring a petty criminal. She’s completely innocent.’
‘I question that,’ said Leeming, shocked by what he’d heard. ‘If the lady can permit herself to be passed so easily from one man to another, then her innocence is in grave doubt.’
‘We’ll talk to her before we leave,’ decided Colbeck. ‘Meanwhile, there’s another job for you to do, Victor. Since you have such a talent for rounding up loose horses, perhaps you’d be so good as to catch that one.’
He indicated the horse that he’d been riding earlier. Having shed Colbeck, the animal had run on for a couple of minutes before jumping over a dry stone wall and slowing to a halt. It was now cropping the grass unconcernedly in the middle of a flock of sheep. Leeming studied them with misgiving.
‘Well, go on,’ urged Colbeck. ‘They won’t harm you. I’ve yet to hear of anyone being savaged by a wild ewe.’
About to move off, Leeming was stopped by a sudden thought.
‘There’s something that worries me, Inspector,’ he said.
‘What is it?’
‘Well, in the space of a morning we’ve lost our two chief suspects. If neither of them committed the murder, who did?’
Agnes Reader bided her time until they were about to leave. Having chosen the keepsake she’d been offered – a tiny silver brooch in the shape of a thistle – she said that she would replace the jewellery box.
‘No, no,’ said Eve, ‘let Mrs Withers do that.’
‘It won’t take me a second,’ Agnes told her.
She went out into the hall and glided up the stairs as swiftly as she could. Letting herself into Miriam Tarleton’s bedroom, she put the box back on the dressing table and crossed to the writing bureau in the corner. There was no housekeeper to interfere this time. Agnes lowered the lid of the desk and pulled out one of the little drawers. She put a hand into the space. Her fingers felt for a wooden lever and she eventually found it. When she pressed it down, a secret drawer popped out from the side of the bureau in the most unexpected place. Reaching into it, all she could find were several small keys. Relief coursed through her so strongly that she almost swooned.
‘Thank God!’ she murmured.
When they stopped at the cottage, it did not take Colbeck long to establish that its female owner was completely unaware of what Bruntcliffe had been doing in the name of revenge. He bade her farewell. The three men headed back towards Northallerton on horseback. Leeming was thankful that they moved at a more sedate pace and glad that they had a prisoner to show for their efforts. At the same time, he was depressed by the realisation that the killer was still at liberty and that they had very little evidence as to his identity. When they reached the town, they handed Bruntcliffe over to one of the constables and watched him being charged before he was shut away in the lock-up. Back in the saddle, Leeming passed on the fruits of his meditation.
‘It has to be Sergeant Hepworth,’ he concluded.
‘We shall certainly take a closer look at him,’ agreed Colbeck. ‘What better way to conceal your guilt than by joining in the search for a woman whom you actually murdered?’
‘No wonder he offered his services to us, Inspector.’
‘Yes, he wanted to know exactly how the investigation went. That way, he could always stay one step ahead of us.’
‘I think we should arrest him immediately,’ said Leeming.
‘We don’t want to make another mistake, Victor. Let’s be absolutely sure of our facts before we accuse him of anything.’
‘But we know he sent those letters. His son told us.’
‘Sam Hepworth would change his story the moment his father gave him a clip around the ear. No, we must proceed with caution. Hepworth is a railway policeman. He’s familiar with the way that suspects are questioned. We mustn’t show our hand too early.’
‘He’s our killer, sir. I know it.’
‘You felt the same about Adam Tarleton.’
‘What that man did was sinful,’ said Leeming, bristling, ‘and I was revolted that we should learn about it on the Lord’s Day. How could any man hand over a woman like that to a friend? Does he have no moral scruples?’
‘You didn’t speak to the lady in question,’ Colbeck told him, ‘but I did. Let me simply say that Bruntcliffe and Tarleton were, in my opinion, not the only guests to share her bed. Where young men are concerned, she appears to be very compliant.’
‘Then I’m glad I stayed outside.’
On the ride from Northallerton, they took the identical route used by Miriam Tarleton, going past the spot where they believed the murder had taken place. They paused for a while so that Colbeck could reconstruct the ambush in his mind. Dismounting from his horse, he went to inspect the wheel marks made in the ground. After looking in both directions, he climbed back into the saddle.
‘It has to be the place,’ he said. ‘They’d be screened from view at this point. Whoever intercepted her had to be someone she knew, someone whose presence wouldn’t alarm her in any way.’
‘Sergeant Hepworth.’
‘It’s possible.’
‘It’s probable, sir. Who could be less likely to alarm her than a policeman?’
Colbeck grinned. ‘I know a policeman who alarms you, Victor.’
‘I’m not talking about the superintendent. Mrs Tarleton must have known Hepworth. Everybody else does and he’s not a man to hide his light under a bushel. If she met him here,’ argued Leeming, ‘the lady would have been reassured by the sight of that uniform.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘I wonder if he ever takes it off.’
‘I fear that he may sleep in it,’ said Colbeck.
‘Hepworth must have known Mrs Tarleton would be walking that day on this particular route.’
‘Yet his name wasn’t on that list.’
‘What list?’
‘It was the one that Mr Reader gave us when he brought that card from the rector’s wife. It was compiled by Mrs Reader and contained the names of all those who were definitely aware of the routine followed by the colonel’s wife. Hepworth wasn’t on the list.’
‘That’s irrelevant. He’s a watcher, sir. If she’d been his target, he’d have kept her under observation for some time.’
‘Yes,’ conceded Colbeck, ‘I can imagine him doing that.’
They continued on their way to the village. Having returned the hired horses, they went back to the Black Bull. Colbeck first washed off the dirt he’d picked up during the fight then he changed his apparel. He asked the landlord where his least favourite customer lived and they were directed to a cottage on the outer fringe of South Otterington. It was a small, low residence for a tall, bulky man and they understood why there was no room for Sam Hepworth to play with his soldiers. They knocked on the door but there was no response. When Leeming peered through a dusty window, half-hidden by ivy, he could see nobody inside. Colbeck led the way around the side of the cottage and they saw that someone was at home, after all. A red-faced girl with a mop of brown curls was pegging out some washing on a line. There was an air of morose resentment about her as if the chore were a punishment inflicted by an unkind parent. Even though she saw them over the fence, she carried on with her job.
‘Are you Ginny Hepworth?’ asked Colbeck.
‘Could be,’ she returned, cheekily.
‘We know for a fact you are,’ said Leeming, annoyed by her rudeness. ‘We met your brother in the churchyard this morning.’
‘Our Sam’s always there.’
‘We’d really like to talk to your father.’
‘Our Dad’s not ’ere.’
‘Do you know where he is, Ginny?’
‘Out with our Mam, like – they goes walkin’ of a Sunday.’
‘And they’ve left you to do all the work, I see,’ said Colbeck. ‘That was very unfair of them. This should be a day of rest. When will they be back?’
‘No idea.’
‘Do you know who we are?’
‘Whole village knows.’
‘Then perhaps you’d tell your father that we’d like to speak to him at the Blac
k Bull. You might also tell him,’ said Colbeck, adding the information by way of bait, ‘that we’ve made an arrest.’
‘I see,’ she said, pegging the last item on the line before folding her arms. ‘Who you got, then?’
‘We’ll tell your father.’
‘You used to work at the big house, didn’t you?’ said Leeming.
‘Aye – I were treated bad.’
‘How did you get on with the colonel?’
‘Colonel were the worst.’
‘So you didn’t like him?’
‘No, I were thrown out.’
‘But your father spoke up for you. He told us so.’
‘Aye, that’s right. Our Dad told colonel off, like.’
‘And he probably wrote to him, didn’t he?’ Her eyelids narrowed with suspicion. ‘Like any good father, he’d have wanted to defend his daughter. I’ll wager that he sent a letter of complaint. I admire him for doing so. From what he said, it seems to me that you were dealt with very shabbily.’
‘I were – by the colonel and Mrs Withers, at any rate.’
‘Did your father get a reply to his letters?’
‘No, he didn’t.’
‘How many did he send, Ginny?’
‘Three.’ She brought a hand to her mouth but it was far too late to stop the word popping out. Her cheeks went crimson. ‘It were not my fault. I did as I were told.’
‘We’re not blaming you for anything,’ Colbeck reassured her. ‘And there’s no need to mention this to your father. It’s not something we’re bothered about. It’s just that he’s given us some help so he deserves to know that we’ve got a man in custody.’
Ginny relaxed. ‘When will ’e be ’anged?’
‘Oh, there’s a long way to go before any execution.’
‘Our Dad took me to Northallerton once to see a man being ’anged there. There were a big crowd, like. We all cheered.’
‘Your father should have known better,’ said Leeming. ‘It’s not suitable entertainment for a girl of your age. In fact, it shouldn’t be entertainment at all. Did your brother go as well?’
‘Our Sam stayed ’ere.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’
‘Right,’ said Colbeck, ‘we won’t hold you up, Ginny. Just pass on the message, please, and say nothing about those letters. Now that the colonel is dead, they’re meaningless.’
Railway to the Grave Page 24
