The Stationmaster's farewell irc-9

by Edward Marston

  ‘The sergeant doesn’t want to hear about your private life, Father,’ said Madeleine.

  ‘Perhaps not,’ agreed Leeming, ‘but I would like your opinion on something else, Mr Andrews. What’s your view of the atmospheric railway?’

  Andrews snorted. ‘It was a disaster!’

  ‘The inspector thinks it was a clever idea.’

  ‘That’s all it was, Sergeant — an idea. It should never have been put into practice. It cost a lot of money and ended in failure.’

  ‘Don’t listen to my father,’ said Madeleine, good-humouredly. ‘He doesn’t approve of anything that wasn’t used on the LNWR.’

  ‘It’s the finest railway company in the world.’

  ‘Mr Brunel would disagree.’

  ‘Brunel is an idiot. He lost a small fortune on the experiment of the atmospheric railway. That’s no way to power a train.’

  ‘All the same,’ said Leeming, ‘I’d love to have seen how it was done.’

  ‘Then you should have been here when it was tried on the line between Exeter and Newton Abbot. It was abandoned after less than a year.’ He cackled in triumph. ‘It ran out of air!’

  ‘Let’s come back to the case,’ said Madeleine, anxious to steer her father away from his ritual sneering at Brunel. ‘Miss Hope told us that she was a good friend of the stationmaster.’

  ‘That’s correct,’ said Leeming. ‘In some ways, she was his best friend. He trusted her far more than anyone else.’

  ‘Then his death must have been an appalling blow to her.’

  ‘It was, Miss Andrews. Luckily, she’s been strong enough to cope with it. She’s controlled her grief and got on with her job. The same can’t be said of Mrs Rossiter, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Who is she?’

  ‘She was the manageress of the refreshment room,’ said Leeming, ‘but not any more. They had to cart her off to the Devon County Asylum.’

  It was only a stroll along the corridors of the institution but it seemed to do Agnes Rossiter some good. Canon Smalley accompanied her, pointing out some of the paintings on the way. When he took her into one of the workrooms, she saw dozens of women seated at tables as they sewed garments. None of them looked up at the visitors. Smalley escorted her back to her room.

  ‘When will I go home?’ asked Mrs Rossiter.

  ‘This is your home for the time being.’

  ‘My sister will pine for me.’

  ‘I know,’ said Smalley, gently, ‘and we hope you’ll be able to see her before too long. But you’re not ready to leave our care yet. Dr Swift will decide when he can sanction your release.’

  Mrs Rossiter gave a nod of acceptance. Sitting on the chair, she was lost in thought. Smalley took his leave. When he came out of the room, it was locked by the nurse waiting outside. After paying a visit to a number of other patients, Smalley then returned to his office to collect a book. With the volume tucked under his arm, he went off to the room occupied by Esther Leete. The door was locked and he had to wait to be let in by the nurse inside. Esther was not being restrained but she was under permanent surveillance. She was very subdued and showed no aggression when he sat on the chair opposite her. After talking to her for a while, he gave her the book so that she could feel it in her hands.

  ‘It’s full of illustrations,’ he said to the nurse. ‘I find that they often help to stimulate the patients.’

  When he opened the book for her, Esther stared dully at a painting of Christ on the cross. As the pages were turned over, she took no notice of the other illustrations either. Then Smalley turned another page and the woman immediately sprang into life. Grabbing the book, she jumped up and hugged it to her chest. When the nurse tried to take the book from her, Esther fought back.

  ‘Let her be,’ advised Smalley. ‘She can keep the book.’

  ‘I think you’d better leave her alone,’ said the nurse.

  ‘I’ll call back this evening. She may have calmed down by then.’

  Canon Smalley let himself out and heard the door being locked behind him. Esther Leete puzzled him. Her reaction to an illustration in the book had been so fierce and unexpected. What she’d seen was a painting of the Madonna and Child.

  Colbeck was able to spend only a few minutes alone with Madeleine at the Acland Tavern. He was full of apologies for having to leave almost immediately.

  ‘I understand, Robert,’ she said. ‘It’s my fault for arriving out of the blue without warning.’

  ‘It was the nicest thing to happen to me since I came to Exeter.’

  ‘I simply had to see you.’

  ‘You should have come alone,’ he said. ‘You don’t need a chaperone.’

  ‘Father had his own reasons for leaving London. I’m beginning to regret that I brought him with me,’ she said, light-heartedly. ‘He keeps arguing with Sergeant Leeming about the merits of the atmospheric railway.’

  ‘I’ll have to rescue Victor. We have some work to do.’

  ‘Was your visit to Totnes successful?’

  ‘I believe so.’

  ‘Will it make any difference to the case?’

  ‘It will make a great deal of difference. Our main suspect has been exonerated. We’ll have to look elsewhere for the killer.’

  She was dismayed. ‘Does that mean you’ll be here for a lot longer?’

  ‘I’m not sure, Madeleine,’ he said, guardedly. ‘Much will depend on what Victor and I find this evening.’

  ‘What are you hoping to find?’

  He smiled lovingly. ‘We’re searching for an owl.’

  Dorcas Hope had seen little of the stationmaster throughout the day. When she was about to go home, however, he was waiting to waylay her outside the refreshment room. Woodford had reverted to his old authoritarian self.

  ‘If you want to earn my respect, Miss Hope,’ he said, reprovingly, ‘you can stop giving a false impression of me to Inspector Colbeck.’

  ‘But I didn’t do that, Mr Woodford.’

  ‘You told him that I blenched when I heard that the diary had been found.’

  ‘That’s exactly what you did.’

  ‘No, it isn’t.’

  ‘You turned quite pale.’

  ‘I was delighted by the news,’ he said, forcefully. ‘Try to remember that.’

  ‘I can only say what I saw,’ she bleated.

  ‘Leaving that aside, what were you talking to the inspector about earlier? When I walked past the refreshment room, you were poring over a map with him. Why was that?’

  ‘I recalled what “M.V.” stood for, Mr Woodford.’

  ‘What are you talking about, girl?’

  ‘They were the initials in Mr Heygate’s diary,’ she said. ‘He discovered that barn owl near a place called “M.V.” The inspector brought something called an ordnance survey map and I pointed out where it was.’

  ‘Where what was?’ he asked, impatiently.

  ‘It’s the cottage that Mr Heygate talked about.’

  ‘He never said anything to me about a cottage.’

  ‘It was his wife who really loved it,’ said Dorcas. ‘She’d always wanted to live there. Mr Heygate said that he wished he could have bought it for her but could never have afforded it. He pointed it out to me one day.’

  ‘What was the name of the cottage?’

  ‘It’s called Meadow View.’

  Leeming was unhappy about trampling through long grass in the half-dark. When he trod in some horse manure, he was even more discontented and stopped to wipe it off his shoe on a fallen log. It was a cold evening but the clear sky gave just enough light for them to pick their way along. Colbeck had memorised the route from the ordnance survey map. As they passed various landmarks, he realised just how detailed and accurate it had been.

  ‘I walked down this lane before,’ said Leeming, ‘yet I found nothing. And that was in daylight. How can we expect to find anything in the dark?’

  ‘That’s precisely what Mr Heygate did.’

  ‘He had the sens
e to bring a lamp.’

  ‘We don’t want to attract attention.’

  ‘What if Miss Hope is mistaken?’

  ‘She hasn’t let us down so far, Victor. The stationmaster actually showed her the cottage one day. She was able to describe it to me.’

  ‘The diary only said it was near Meadow View. We don’t know which side of the cottage it is.’

  ‘Then we search both,’ said Colbeck, affably. ‘Cheer up, Victor. In a sense, we’re on a treasure hunt.’

  ‘I know, sir. I stepped in some of it.’

  They walked on at a moderate pace and checked every building that passed them in silhouette. Eventually, they came to a large ramshackle shed at the bottom of a garden surrounded by a fence. It was only one of a line of sheds in various gardens, each in differing stages of repair. Leeming had inspected almost all of them on his earlier visit and been unable to find any evidence of an owl having been there. He and Colbeck looked along the line of sheds, wondering where to start. A voice came out of the gloom, then a figure approached the fence.

  ‘You look lost, gentlemen,’ said a man. ‘Can I help you?’

  When he got close, they saw that he was a beefy individual in his forties with a craggy face. He gave them a half-smile and spoke with a local accent.

  ‘We’re looking for Meadow View,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘That’s a bit further on, sir,’ said the man, appraising them shrewdly. ‘It will take you less than two minutes to walk there. As you might have guessed, it has a nice view of the meadow. Look out for a horse chestnut tree,’ he continued. ‘It might not be so easy to recognise in this light but it’s the biggest tree you’ll come across.’

  ‘Thank you for your guidance.’

  ‘Is everything all right, Howie?’ called a female voice.

  ‘It’s my wife,’ he explained then raised his voice to answer her. ‘Everything is fine, dear. I’m just giving directions to two gentlemen.’

  ‘Dinner will be ready soon.’

  They could only see the woman in dim outline. As she came forward, she was carrying a lamp in her hand. After taking a close look at the two strangers, she turned around and retreated into the house. Her husband glanced after her.

  ‘May saw you through the bedroom window,’ he told them. ‘She’s got better eyesight than me and spotted your hats. I was sent out to see who you were.’

  ‘We won’t hold you up from your dinner,’ said Colbeck, one hand on the fence. ‘We’re sorry to disturb you. Come on, Victor,’ he went on. ‘We must find Meadow View. Look out for the horse chestnut.’

  ‘I’d rather look out for horse manure,’ said Leeming, grumpily.

  The man laughed and waved them off. When the detectives walked away, he watched them until they vanished into the darkness, then he went back into the house. Colbeck and Leeming, meanwhile, went as far as the designated tree and paused beneath it. The meadow was off to their right. The sergeant was perplexed.

  ‘Why did you say that we were looking for Meadow View?’

  ‘I didn’t want to arouse his suspicions.’

  ‘Do you think it was in that shed that the stationmaster saw the owl?’

  ‘No,’ said Colbeck, ‘not unless he climbed over the fence and trespassed on their garden, and I don’t think he did that. I ran my hand over the fence. It’s built with relatively new timber and reinforced with stout posts.’

  ‘He wants to protect his property. I’d do the same.’

  ‘There’s more to it than that, Victor. It was the wife who interested me.’

  ‘She was just a blob in the dark, sir.’

  ‘Didn’t you notice her lamp? It was unusually large and heavy. That’s why she never lifted it up to her face. I’d have expected her to come out with an oil lamp or even a large candle.’

  Leeming showed real interest at last. ‘Do you think it might have been the missing railway lamp?’

  ‘It’s a possibility worth exploring,’ said Colbeck. ‘Add up what we know. There are two people excessively sensitive about anyone near their property. Both of them immediately came out to confront us so that they could weigh us up. There’s a tall fence that’s been recently constructed, yet the shed is falling to pieces and they’ve made no attempt to repair it. I find that significant. Finally, there’s a lady carrying what may turn out to be a stolen lamp. On the basis of that evidence, I’d say we have cause to investigate.’

  ‘What are we going to do, Inspector?’

  ‘Give them plenty of time to start their meal.’

  They waited a quarter of an hour under the boughs of the tree. Then they walked slowly back to the place where they’d encountered the man. Colbeck took a closer look at the fence and saw that it had cost money and effort. When he indicated to Leeming that they were going to climb the fence, the sergeant was at first alarmed. Chest high, it was a daunting obstacle. In spite of the cold, Colbeck shed his hat, coat and waistcoat before hauling himself to the top of the fence and hooking a leg over it. Rolling out of sight, he reappeared and crooked a finger for Leeming to follow. The sergeant took off his coat and hat and tried to do exactly what the inspector had done but he was neither as lithe nor as fit as Colbeck. It took him three attempts before he finally got a leg over the fence. Colbeck was waiting to steady him as he lowered himself down. They moved across to the shed and peered in.

  ‘I don’t see any owl,’ whispered Leeming.

  ‘Neither do I, Victor, but then I never expected to. This is not the shed to which Heygate referred. The one with the owl is closer to Meadow View.’ He peered into the gloom. ‘But I do see something else.’

  It was an old handcart with sacking on it. Colbeck felt his way around it to make sure that it was serviceable. Then he led the sergeant back into the garden. As they walked furtively towards the house, Leeming tripped over something and had to stifle a curse as he fell. His knees were covered in fresh earth. What he hadn’t seen was a small mound. It was next to another mound, overgrown with moss. Colbeck bent down to investigate the parallel mounds. He and Leeming were still crouched down when two figures were conjured out of the darkness. The woman was holding a lamp and the man was pointing a shotgun at them. There was menace in his voice now.

  ‘I had a feeling you might come back,’ said the man, standing over them. ‘Hold the light up, May. Let’s see who these nosy devils are.’

  ‘Put that gun down, sir,’ suggested Colbeck.

  ‘Shut up!’

  ‘You’re right, sir,’ said Leeming as the lamp was held near his face. ‘I think it was stolen from Mr Heygate.’

  ‘Heygate was too inquisitive,’ said the man. ‘If he’d minded his own business, he’d still be alive now. You made the same mistake that he did.’

  Ready to pull the trigger, he aimed the gun at Leeming. Colbeck immediately snatched up a handful of earth and threw it into the man’s face, distracting him completely. The gun went off but it discharged its shot harmlessly into the air. Leeming was galvanised into action. He dived for the man’s ankles and brought him crashing to the ground before hurling himself on top of him. The woman was no mere bystander. She raised the heavy lamp with the intention of smashing it down on Leeming’s skull. Colbeck stopped her just in time, seizing her wrist and twisting it until she was forced to let go of the lamp. It fell to the ground but she was not finished yet. Surprisingly strong, she grappled with him for minutes, kicking, screaming, biting and spitting at him. Evidently, she was very accustomed to a brawl and gave no quarter. Colbeck eventually slammed her against the side of the shed to take the fight out of her, then held her from behind with one hand around her neck and the other applying an arm lock.

  Leeming was engaged in an even more desperate struggle against a man determined to kill him. Having failed to shoot the sergeant, he rolled on top of him and managed to hold him down long enough to get the shotgun across his neck. Pressing down hard on Leeming’s windpipe, he tried to choke him to death. As the pain became more intense, Leeming put every ou
nce of his remaining energy into an upward shove, dislodging his adversary and making him fall backwards. It was the sergeant’s turn to be on top now and the first thing he did was to wrest the shotgun away and fling it out of reach. The two of them traded punches and the advantage swung first one way, then the other. With the woman safely pinioned, Colbeck watched as the man finally shrugged Leeming away and tried to escape.

  He got no further than the fence. Before he could scramble over it, he felt his legs being held securely. Leeming dragged him to the ground and pulled him over each of the two mounds in turn. Every time the man attempted to get up, he was knocked back down again by a well-aimed punch. In the end, drained of energy, he simply collapsed in a heap. Leeming reclaimed the shotgun.

  An owl hooted nearby.

  Dr Morton Swift worked long hours at the asylum. Though he owned a house only a mile away, there were times when he decided to stay at the institution instead of going home. He reserved a large room with an adjoining bathroom for his own use. It was far more comfortable and well appointed than the accommodation used by any of the patients. Much of the space was taken up by a double bed. When he finished work that evening, he adjourned to his private quarters. He was surprised when there was a knock on his door. Anticipating company for the night, he didn’t expect his visitor to come so soon. When he opened the door, he saw that there was no compliant young woman outside. The trio of men comprised Colbeck, Leeming and Steel. The superintendent was holding handcuffs.

  ‘May we come in, sir?’ asked Colbeck, pushing him back into the room and following him in. Leeming and Steel came behind him. ‘We must apologise for this intrusion but we’ve come to place you under arrest.’

  ‘What the devil are you talking about?’ demanded Swift, shaking with rage.

  ‘I thought I was quite explicit.’

  ‘Please leave at once. You have no right to barge in here.’

  ‘We have every right, Dr Swift. Our duty is to enforce the law.’

  ‘We’ve already made two arrests,’ said Leeming, pointedly. ‘Howard and May Gurney are both in custody. They’re friends of yours, I believe. As you can see, they were stupid enough to resist us in the garden.’