‘I felt certain it was him,’ he said. ‘It would have given me such pleasure to arrest that buffoon.’
Colbeck was more philosophical. ‘We exposed him as the author of those wounding letters,’ he said, ‘even though we had no evidence beyond the words of his children. That will have shaken him up. I think that our interview with Sergeant Hepworth may have done the whole village a good turn.’
‘But it’s left us chasing shadows, Inspector.’
‘We made a mistake, that’s all. We’ve been looking for a man who killed Mrs Tarleton in order to get revenge against her husband. What we really needed to search for was someone who had a motive to kill the colonel’s wife. Yes,’ he added as Leeming was about to speak, ‘I know that she was, by common report, such a harmless and likeable woman but even the nicest human beings can sometimes excite hatred.’
‘We’ve lost three suspects in a row,’ complained Leeming.
‘And we may lose a few more before we’re done, Victor.’
‘Superintendent Tallis will have some harsh words when he sees how little we’ve achieved.’
‘That’s unjust,’ said Colbeck. ‘We helped to put a stone cross up in the churchyard. We arrested the man who pulled it over in the first place and who had an additional crime to his name. We extracted a confession from Hepworth with regard to those letters he wrote, and we’ve sent him out of here a reformed man. I don’t think that’s a bad record for a Sunday.’
‘We still haven’t caught the man we’re after, sir.’
‘Then we must look at the other potential suspects.’
‘There are none,’ said Leeming.
‘What about the list that Mr Reader gave us?’ asked Colbeck, taking it from his pocket and laying it on the table. ‘Since his wife went to the trouble of drawing it up for us, we ought to use it.’ He tapped the piece of paper. ‘Everyone on here knew that Mrs Tarleton would be walking to Northallerton that day. The chances are that the killer’s name is right under our noses.’
‘Well, it certainly isn’t Mrs Reader herself, yet her name is at the top of the list. In fact,’ Leeming went on, ‘I’d cross off the names of all the women on that list.’
‘Some women are capable of firing a shotgun, Victor.’
The sergeant gasped. ‘You think the killer was female?’
‘I think that we should rule nothing out.’
‘I still fancy that Adam Tarleton is involved somehow. Why don’t we go and talk to him again?’
‘There’s no point,’ said Colbeck, getting up. ‘Besides, it would be wrong to disturb a house of sorrow. It was very brave of Mrs Doel to attend church this morning but I could see that it was a strain for her. She and the rest of the family should be left alone.’
Leeming rose to his feet, ‘Very well, sir.’
Picking up the list, Colbeck took a last look at it before slipping it into his pocket. He then opened the door and went out. Seconds after he did so, Mrs Withers entered the bar. She was panting hard and her face was lined with anxiety. When she saw Colbeck, she lurched gratefully towards him.
‘Could I speak to you in private, please?’ she begged.
‘Yes, of course,’ he replied. ‘Step in here, Mrs Withers.’
As she went past him into the empty room, he could see that she was in a state of considerable distress. He gestured to Leeming who gave an understanding nod. Colbeck went into the room after her and helped her to a chair. Beneath her black hat, he noticed the perspiration on her brow.
‘Get your breath back first,’ he advised.
‘I ran part of the way,’ she gasped.
‘Then it must be important. The sergeant is getting something for you so there’s no hurry now. You can relax.’
‘I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do that again, Inspector.’
She produced a handkerchief and dabbed at her face. Her shoulders were heaving and there was a look of desperation in her eyes. Leeming had ordered a glass of brandy in the bar. When it was handed to him, Colbeck closed the door and crossed over to his visitor.
‘Take a sip of this, Mrs Withers,’ he said. ‘It may help.’
‘I need something,’ she admitted.
‘It’s brandy. Drink it slowly.’
She took a first sip and it seemed to steady her nerves. Though her panting slowly eased, she was afraid to meet Colbeck’s eyes. He sat opposite her and waited. After a second nip of brandy, she found the courage to speak.
‘Mrs Tarleton trusted me,’ she began. ‘She said that she’d never manage without me.’
‘That’s praise, indeed.’
‘It’s how I came to know about the bureau, you see.’
‘What bureau is that, Mrs Withers?’ he asked.
‘It was in her bedroom. She used it to write letters and to store things in. When it first arrived, she showed me that it had a secret compartment. You’d never guess that there was one there.’
‘Actually, I might,’ said Colbeck. ‘My father was a cabinetmaker and so was my grandfather. They showed me all the tricks of the trade. But do go on,’ he said. ‘What was in this secret compartment?’
‘Mrs Tarleton told me she kept her keys in there – the keys to the wardrobe, the chest of drawers and various other places.’
‘That sounds like a sensible idea.’
‘I had no need to look into the compartment until today…’ Her voice cracked and she used the handkerchief to stem some tears. He put the glass to her lips and she took another sip. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I just wasn’t prepared for such a shock. I still haven’t got used to it.’ She took a deep breath. ‘It all started when Mrs Reader went upstairs. I saw her go into the bedroom and nobody was allowed in there when Mrs Tarleton was alive. When I went in after her, she was standing beside the bureau. Mrs Reader said that she’d been told she could have a keepsake from the jewellery box but that was on the other side of the room. I gave it to her and told her to take it downstairs so that she could choose something while Mrs Doel was there.’
‘That seems reasonable.’
‘It worried me, Inspector,’ she said. ‘It worried me that she was going to open the bureau. I wondered if she knew about that secret compartment and was after the keys. So, after she’d gone…’ The tears had to be kept at bay again. ‘Oh, I know that I shouldn’t have done what I did. It wasn’t my place to do it but I felt that Mrs Tarleton’s privacy was being invaded. I felt responsible.’
‘You were right to do so,’ he told her, trying to spare her the ordeal of giving a full explanation. ‘I think that you wisely decided to check that the keys were still in the secret compartment. Is that what happened?’ She nodded. ‘And were they there?’
She nodded again then dissolved into tears of shame. He got up to put a consoling arm around her and to coax her into taking another sip of brandy. When she’d finally dried her eyes, he spoke again.
‘You found something else in there, didn’t you?’
‘I wish to God that I hadn’t!’ she cried. ‘If I had my time over again, I’d never go near that bureau. I shouldn’t have found out what I did, Inspector. I shouldn’t know.’
She opened her bag and took out a bundle of letters written on pink stationery. Handing the bundle to Colbeck, she lowered her head in embarrassment. Colbeck undid the ribbon and opened the first letter. Like all the others, it had been written in a graceful hand by Agnes Reader. He read it through without comment then looked at each of the others in turn. He tied the ribbon around the bundle once again.
‘May I keep hold of these, please?’ he asked.
‘Oh, yes!’ she said. ‘I never want to see them again.’
‘I can understand that, Mrs Withers, but you mustn’t blame yourself. In finding these, you’ve done Mrs Tarleton a great service because you’ve provided me with a clue that will almost certainly lead to the arrest of her killer.’
‘I’ve never heard of such a thing, Inspector. I keep thinking of the poor colonel. Do you believe that he could hav
e known?’
‘I hope that he didn’t,’ said Colbeck, softly. ‘Have you told anyone else about this?’
‘I’d be too ashamed to do that, sir.’
‘Please keep it to yourself for the time being. When you’ve finished that brandy, I’ll get Sergeant Leeming to see you back to the house.’ She was still profoundly disturbed by her discovery and in need of reassurance. ‘You did the right thing, Mrs Withers. One day, you’ll come to appreciate that.’
Agnes Reader was so overcome with sadness when they returned home that she took to her bed. Unable to sleep, she lay there brooding for a few hours. When her husband looked in on her, she was still wide awake. He was attentive.
‘Is there anything I can get you, my dear?’
‘No, thank you.’
‘Shall I have a pot of tea sent up?’
‘I’d just like to be left alone, Bertram,’ she said.
‘Then you shall be,’ he told her, backing away. The doorbell rang down below. ‘We’re not expecting anyone, are we?’
‘No…and whoever it is, I don’t want to see them.’
‘You won’t be disturbed, Agnes, I promise.’
Reader left the room and padded downstairs. He was taken aback to see the maid showing Colbeck into the drawing room. After dismissing her with a wave, he went in to meet his visitor.
‘Good afternoon, Inspector,’ he said.
‘I’m sorry to intrude on you again, Mr Reader,’ said Colbeck, ‘but I really need to speak to Mrs Reader.’
‘She’s not available at the moment, I’m afraid.’
‘Then I’ll have to wait until she is available, however long it takes. Perhaps you could convey that message to her.’
‘My wife is asleep.’
‘I’ll still be here when she wakes up.’
Colbeck was polite but purposeful. The banker could see that he wouldn’t leave the house until he’d spoken to Agnes.
‘May I know what this is all about, Inspector?’ he asked.
‘That’s a decision only your wife can make.’
‘I don’t like mysteries.’
‘I love them, sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘Solving them always gives me a sense of deep satisfaction.’
‘Couldn’t this wait until tomorrow?’
‘No, Mr Reader. It needs to be resolved before the inquest.’
The banker stared at him and there was a silent battle of wills. Determined not to bother his wife, Reader was at the same time curious to know why Colbeck was there. For his part, the inspector was inscrutable. His non-committal smile gave nothing away, except the fact that he intended to stay indefinitely. In the end, Reader weakened and edged towards the door.
‘I’ll see if my wife has woken up yet,’ he said.
‘Thank you, sir. I’d be most grateful.’
Reader went out and was absent for a long time. Colbeck was able to take a good look at the room. Its paintings and ornaments had dazzled Leeming but Colbeck was more interested in the furniture. Coming from a family of cabinetmakers, he had an eye for superior craftsmanship. He was admiring a Jacobean court cupboard when Reader finally reappeared with his wife. Agnes was composed.
‘I believe you wish to speak to me,’ she said.
‘That’s right, Mrs Reader. It’s on a private matter. You may or may not wish your husband to remain.’
‘My wife has no secrets from me, Inspector,’ said Reader.
Agnes studied the visitor’s face. ‘In this instance,’ she said, sensing what might have brought Colbeck there, ‘I think I would like you to leave us, Bertram.’ He was clearly hurt. ‘I’ll tell you everything that passes between us.’
‘If that’s what you wish, my dear, that’s how it will be. But I won’t be far away. Should you need me,’ he went on, tossing a glance at Colbeck, ‘you only have to call.’
Crossing to the double doors on the other side of the room, he opened them wide and stepped through into the library. Colbeck waited until he heard the doors click shut once more. Agnes pointed to the sofa and he sat down. Eyes never leaving his face, she chose an armchair. She looked calm and poised.
‘Certain letters have come into my possession,’ he said, quietly.
‘You had no right to read them,’ she protested. ‘That was a private correspondence.’
‘It also happens to be evidence in a murder investigation, Mrs Reader. That being the case, I had every right to examine them.’
‘It was that bitch of a housekeeper, wasn’t it?’
‘That’s immaterial,’ said Colbeck. ‘The fact is that I read the letters and they were able to fill in a number of blank spaces for me. When I heard that Mrs Tarleton used to visit Edinburgh to see her cousin, I assumed that she stayed at the cousin’s home. That was not always so, was it? On at least three occasions, you and she shared a room at a particular hotel.’
‘There’s no need to repeat it,’ she snapped. ‘And if you expect me to feel guilty about it, you’ll be disappointed. Miriam and I had a very special friendship. Talking about it the way you do only serves to cheapen it.’
‘I make no moral judgement, Mrs Reader, and I think you’ll find that you can rely on my discretion. I came here for two reasons. First, I wanted to see if you’d resort to denial.’
‘That would be an insult to both of us, Inspector. Why deny something that was so beautiful?’
‘I respect that.’
‘You said that there were two reasons.’
‘The second one is perhaps more important. Who else knew about your friendship with Mrs Tarleton?’
She was firm. ‘Nobody knew,’ she said. ‘We were extremely careful. The colonel was too bound up in his own affairs and my husband allows me complete freedom.’
‘Presumably, Mrs Tarleton wrote you letters?’
‘You’re not going to see those, Inspector.’
‘I don’t wish to do so.’
‘They’re very precious to me. Nobody else will ever see them.’
‘I’ve brought your letters with me,’ he said, patting his pocket. ‘You’re welcome to have them back with my assurance that I’m the only person to have read them.’
‘What about Mrs Withers?’
‘She was too shocked to see more than half a page.’
Agnes weighed him up with a shrewd glance, wondering how much she could trust him. She was thankful that he’d come alone and not brought the sergeant with him. Discussing the matter with one man was a trial. To have had the two of them there would have been insufferable. Colbeck had spoken gently and without comment. She felt that he understood her position.
‘Could I please ask you to destroy those letters?’ she asked.
‘I’ll burn them as soon as I leave here.’
‘Thank you, Inspector.’
‘You might like to know that I haven’t shown them to Sergeant Leeming nor confided anything of their contents.’ He looked towards the library. ‘The question now arises as to what you tell your husband when I go.’
‘Leave that to me,’ she said, complacently. ‘I’m used to making up stories for Bertram. He believes everything I tell him.’
‘That’s not true!’ yelled Reader, flinging open the double doors and standing there with a pistol in his hand. ‘I stopped believing you months ago, Agnes.’
‘Bertram!’ she cried, jumping up. ‘Have you been listening?’
‘I heard every word.’
‘Put that pistol down, sir,’ said Colbeck, rising slowly to his feet. ‘We don’t want to have an unfortunate accident.’
‘It won’t be an accident, Inspector. It’s something I should have done long ago.’ A pleading note dominated. ‘I tried so hard, Agnes. I hoped that when Miriam died, we could start afresh and put all this behind us, but that’s never going to happen, is it? Alive or dead, she’ll always be there between us.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, watching the pistol with alarm. ‘You weren’t supposed to know. I wanted to spare you that pain.’
&
nbsp; ‘You gave me more than enough pain as it was,’ he said, waving the weapon at her. ‘Is it too much to ask of a woman I marry that we live as husband and wife? Is it too much to ask of someone for whom I’ve done everything that she’s mine and nobody else’s?’
‘Please, sir,’ said Colbeck, going towards him with an extended hand, ‘let me have the pistol.’
‘Stand back or I’ll shoot,’ warned Reader, turning the weapon on him. Colbeck came to a halt. ‘I had a feeling that you’d catch me in the end. You’re like a dog with a bone. You never stop. Well, now you know the hideous truth.’
‘It isn’t hideous,’ cried Agnes. ‘I was proud of what I did.’
‘How do you think that makes me feel? When I paid a private detective to follow you to Edinburgh, I couldn’t believe what it said in his report. There had to be a mistake. Surely, no wife of mine would ever betray me in that unspeakable fashion.’
Agnes was indignant. ‘You spied on me?’ she said, vehemently. ‘How dare you do something so awful!’ She rocked back on her heels as she finally realised the truth. ‘It was you, wasn’t it? You weren’t in Darlington that day, after all. That was just an excuse. You killed Miriam! You killed the only person I ever truly loved.’
‘Yes,’ he confessed. ‘I did and I enjoyed doing it. I thought that, if I could remove the woman who’d poisoned our marriage, you’d come back to me. But you haven’t and you never will. I made an error,’ he went on, levelling the pistol at her. ‘I shot the wrong woman. Instead of killing Miriam, I should have killed you.’
Colbeck flung himself in front of Agnes and held out his arms to screen her. He could hear her sobbing and feel her shivering against his body. Reader took a step closer so that he was only six feet away.
‘You’ll have to shoot me first, Mr Reader,’ he said.
‘Get out of the way, Inspector!’
‘It won’t be so easy this time, sir. I’m not a docile woman who’ll turn her back on you unsuspectingly so that you can put that sacking over her head. I’m looking you in the eye,’ he continued, ‘and I can see the doubts swirling about in your mind. Even from that distance, you’re not sure of killing me, are you? You’re not a marksman like the colonel or Mr Everett. You’re a banker with no real interest in firearms. Look, your hand is shaking. You could miss altogether, couldn’t you? Have you considered that?’ He offered his hand. ‘Now give the pistol to me, please. It’s all over, Mr Reader. An intelligent man like you must know that. It’s all over.’
Railway to the Grave Page 26
