The Stationmaster's Farewell

by Edward Marston

  ‘What are they saying, Inspector?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m not sure, Miss Impey.’

  ‘How ever did the doctor get Agnes to talk?’

  ‘It’s a secret I’d like to learn.’

  ‘We’ve been in here for ages. How much longer must we wait?’

  Dr Swift answered the question by opening the door and inviting them in. Frances immediately went to embrace her sister who was now on her feet. While she still looked far from well, Mrs Rossiter had more colour in her cheeks and some animation in her eyes. Frances led her sister into the kitchen to question her in private. Colbeck was quick to exploit their absence.

  ‘What’s your diagnosis, Doctor?’ he asked.

  ‘Mrs Rossiter has had a profound shock,’ replied the other, solemnly. ‘It’s destroyed some of the certainties in her life.’

  ‘You achieved a miracle in getting her to talk.’

  ‘Once she got started, the problem was to stop her.’

  ‘Did you ask her about the incident at the cathedral?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Swift, ‘and she wasn’t in the least repentant. In fact, she said she’d do exactly the same if she were given the chance. That was worrying. Her mind has been unbalanced by the loss of a dear friend. I’ve seen it happen before many times. She’s exhibiting far more than natural grief at the death of a loved one.’

  ‘Yet she and the stationmaster were not close,’ said Colbeck. ‘They merely worked together. They were never bosom friends.’

  ‘Mrs Rossiter believes that they were, Inspector, and therein lies the problem. She’s in the grip of an obsession.’

  ‘Is it possible to break that obsession?’

  ‘I can prescribe medication that might help to calm her down but there’s no cure for a mania. That’s what we have here. Though I began my career as a general practitioner,’ he went on, ‘my main interest is in psychiatry and I spend much of my time at the County Asylum. That’s the work that really interests me. I’ve treated several manic patients. Some have recovered enough to warrant release while others remain in the custody of the medical staff indefinitely.’

  Colbeck glanced towards the kitchen and lowered his voice so that he wouldn’t be overheard by the two women. He could imagine how shattering a blow it would be for Frances Impey if her sister were taken away from her. Colbeck was not at all sure that she could cope with the stigma of having her sister confined because of a mental disorder. For both their sakes, he hoped that this last resort would somehow be avoidable. Yet he had to accept the doctor’s expert opinion.

  ‘Does Mrs Rossiter belong in a lunatic asylum?’ he asked.

  ‘Let me put it this way,’ said Swift, adjusting his cravat. ‘That extraordinary outburst in the cathedral was prompted by her obsession. It has left her with a hatred of religion and what she perceives as its specious benefits. She feels utterly betrayed by God, hence her act of defiance. If the lady has another hysterical episode of that order,’ he stressed, ‘I’d have no hesitation in signing the certificate to commit her to the County Asylum.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  When he met them over luncheon, Tallis was not impressed with the way that his detectives had spent the morning. Expecting signs of visible progress, he was very disappointed. He did not mince his words.

  ‘Let me get this straight,’ he said, glaring first at Colbeck then at Leeming, ‘the sum total of your endeavours is as follows. The inspector wasted his time with a mad old lady while you, Sergeant, seem to have gone to Dawlish for the sole purpose of discovering how the atmospheric railway worked.’

  ‘That’s unfair, sir,’ said Leeming, hotly. ‘I only mentioned that in passing. My interview with Mr and Mrs Heygate did yield a result.’

  ‘I fail to see it.’

  ‘The pair of them must definitely be considered as suspects.’

  ‘You knew that before you went to their home.’

  ‘I had to confirm our suspicions,’ argued Leeming. ‘They fell out with the stationmaster because he’d refused to advance them money for the second time. There was no sense of gratitude for the loan he’d already given them. Without that, they’d never have been able to set up in business in the first place.’

  ‘Resentment does not make them killers.’

  ‘It could do, sir.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Colbeck, coming to his rescue. ‘What Victor learnt was that they had a strong motive to murder Joel Heygate. They’d not only wreak their revenge, they’d inherit more than enough from him to buy their way out of their financial difficulties. And there are unanswered questions to consider,’ he went on. ‘Why did Mr and Mrs Heygate come to Exeter a day earlier than they need have done? Why did they leave their children at home when the celebrations were aimed at the youth of the city? I’m sure that Victor would never have dreamt of depriving his children of such a treat.’

  ‘I certainly wouldn’t,’ said Leeming. ‘They love bonfires.’

  ‘Finally, where did they stay on the fateful night?’

  ‘They must have lodged with friends,’ said Tallis, dismissively.

  ‘Then why didn’t they say so?’

  ‘Who knows?’

  ‘I’d be surprised if they had any friends,’ said Leeming. ‘They’re an unlovable couple, sir. In fact, I think that’s another reason why their shop failed. I can’t believe that customers enjoyed dealing with them.’

  ‘In that case,’ decided Tallis, ‘they must have stayed at an inn.’

  ‘When they’re so short of money?’

  ‘Damn it, man! They must have stayed somewhere.’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ Colbeck put in. ‘It’s conceivable that they committed the murder on the night before Guy Fawkes Day, concealed the body under the bonfire then took the train back to Dawlish.’

  ‘The sergeant should have pressed them for details.’

  ‘That would have given the game away, Superintendent,’ said Leeming. ‘They’d have realised that they were suspects and clammed up completely.’

  ‘Perhaps I should have a word with them.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think that would be a good idea,’ said Colbeck, firmly.

  He sat back so that the waiter could remove his plate. Letting Tallis loose on their suspects was something that Colbeck was determined to avoid. Both he and Leeming were searching for ways to get rid of the superintendent altogether. With the best of intentions, Tallis nevertheless managed to impede an investigation. When he’d once joined them in Yorkshire to take charge of a case involving suicide and murder, he’d been hopelessly ineffective and unwittingly obstructive. It was only when Tallis had returned to London that they’d been able to move the investigation forward.

  ‘Let’s turn to you,’ said Tallis, eyeing Colbeck. ‘Why did you spend a whole morning at the home of a raving lunatic?’

  ‘That’s an unkind description of the lady, sir.’

  ‘What else would you call her? When someone runs amok in a cathedral, then she’s clearly of unsound mind and should be locked away.’

  ‘Mrs Rossiter is an important person in this investigation,’ insisted Colbeck. ‘She worked alongside Mr Heygate for many years and was able to supply some useful information. Common decency compels us to assist her in her hour of need. Mr Quinnell accepted that she’d been a good servant of the railway company and offered to pay for any medical attention.’

  ‘The fact remains that you learnt nothing of value this morning.’

  ‘Yes I did, sir. I learnt that Mrs Rossiter and her sister live in straitened circumstances and I discovered that Dr Swift has an excellent tailor.’

  ‘You’re being flippant.’

  ‘I came to understand the lady’s position more clearly,’ said Colbeck, ‘and, as a result, extend her much more sympathy than you are able to summon up at present. Doesn’t it tell us something about the stationmaster’s character that he could inspire such devotion in a woman?’

  ‘She was the victim of romantic folly.’

 
‘We’ve all been guilty of that at some time in our lives,’ volunteered Leeming.

  ‘Oh no, we haven’t,’ growled Tallis, reaching for his glass. ‘Passion of that nature is always dangerous. It can distort the mind – as in this case.’ After taking a sip of his wine, he announced his decision. ‘Michael Heygate and his wife must be looked at more closely,’ he said. ‘We can soon establish if they stayed at an inn here on that particular night. I’ll get the local police to make enquiries. We might as well get them to do something.’

  ‘That’s unjust, sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘Superintendent Steel and his men have been willing and cooperative. You must take their limitations into account. It’s not easy policing a city over which the bishop holds such sway.’

  Tallis gave a nod of assent. ‘The man is a confounded nuisance.’

  ‘Then why did you take his complaints so seriously?’ asked Leeming.

  ‘Yes,’ said Colbeck, ‘why didn’t you simply send a reply to the effect that you had every confidence in us? That would have saved you a long journey and you’d have been spared a bruising interview with Bishop Phillpotts.’

  ‘I didn’t realise at the time that the fellow would be so unpleasant and domineering,’ said Tallis. ‘I’ve stayed here because my leadership is needed.’

  ‘It’s also needed in London, sir. In fact, the need there is far greater. A case like this comes along once in a blue moon in Exeter, whereas the capital is plagued by serious crime. That’s where you should be.’ Colbeck nudged Leeming. ‘Don’t you agree, Victor?’

  ‘I do,’ said Leeming, enthusiastically. ‘Why not leave everything to us, Superintendent? We can manage on our own. Go back to Scotland Yard.’

  ‘Don’t you dare tell me what to do!’ said Tallis, flaring up. ‘As for managing on your own, how can you question a suspect properly when all that you do is discuss the atmospheric railway with him?’

  ‘I was interested to know how it worked.’

  ‘I’m more interested to know how you work, Leeming.’

  ‘I’ll make a point of speaking to Michael Heygate myself,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘You should have done that in the first place,’ snarled Tallis, ‘instead of bothering with a woman who’s obviously taken leave of her senses. So far, you have three suspects. The police are still combing Exeter to find the most likely one and the other suspect is acting as stationmaster. In fact,’ he continued, ‘I met Mr Woodford this morning and I have to say that he did not strike me as a potential killer.’

  ‘I’m not sure that he’d have the strength or the nerve,’ said Leeming.

  ‘Neither do I,’ agreed Colbeck. ‘I can’t see him battering anyone to death. But I think that Mr Woodford is more than capable of hiring someone else to do the deed.’

  Dorcas Hope’s career as a manageress was brief. As soon as it was evident that Agnes Rossiter would be away for some time, the former manager of the refreshment room at Newton Abbot station was brought out of retirement. Dorcas was relegated once more to the role of assistant. Timothy Vesey was a short, compact man in his sixties with a gnarled face and a slight stutter. He was much less talkative and self-important than Mrs Rossiter and Dorcas liked him. They worked well together. Woodford made sure that there were no problems. As he stepped into the room for the fourth time that day, he called out to Vesey while keeping his eyes on Dorcas, who was bending over a table as she wiped it clean.

  ‘Is everything under control in here?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ replied Vesey.

  ‘The next train is due in eight minutes.’

  ‘It will find us in a state of complete r-r-readiness, Mr Woodford.’

  ‘I expect no less.’

  ‘Is there any news about Mrs Rossiter?’ wondered Dorcas.

  ‘There’s none that I’m aware of, Miss Hope.’

  ‘I heard a rumour that she’d run wild in the cathedral.’

  ‘Don’t listen to tittle-tattle,’ advised Woodford. ‘It’s always wrong.’

  ‘They say the police had to take her away.’

  He drew himself up. ‘What did I just tell you?’ he warned. ‘I won’t have my staff passing on idle gossip. Mrs Rossiter is unable to perform her duties here. That’s all you need to know.’

  Dorcas was cowed. ‘Yes, Mr Woodford.’

  ‘Perhaps you’d care to step outside for a minute.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I won’t even mention the rumour again.’

  ‘I’d like to speak to you on another matter,’ he said, opening the door and taking her on to the platform. ‘There was no need for Mr Vesey to hear this.’ He stood very close to Dorcas. ‘What did Inspector Colbeck say to you?’

  ‘He asked me a few questions, that was all.’

  ‘What sort of questions?’

  ‘Well,’ she said, ‘he wanted to know everything I could tell him about Mr Heygate. He was very interested to hear that I was looking after Peter. That was thanks to you, Mr Woodford. I don’t think that Mr Quinnell would have let me have the canary if you hadn’t spoken up for me.’

  ‘You were the best person to take charge of Peter.’

  ‘He’s become one of the family. Mother dotes on him.’

  He moved even closer to her. ‘What else did the inspector ask you?’

  ‘He wondered if I knew where Mr Heygate kept his money.’

  ‘Any income from the ticket office and the refreshment room goes straight into the safe at the end of each day. You should know that.’

  ‘He was talking about Mr Heygate’s own money,’ said Dorcas. ‘When they searched the house, they couldn’t find a penny, yet he must have had some cash to buy food and so on. I think it’s odd that there was nothing at all there.’

  ‘It may be in a hiding place,’ he ventured.

  ‘The search was very thorough, according to the inspector. He gave me a couple of books on how to look after canaries. Mother’s been reading them.’

  ‘Forget canaries,’ said Woodford, impatiently. ‘Did they find anything of real interest in the house?’

  ‘I don’t know. They were simply vexed at what they didn’t find.’

  ‘The money, you mean?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Woodford – and the diary.’

  He became wary. ‘What diary was that?’

  ‘The one I told the inspector about,’ she explained. ‘It was really to do with his birdwatching, you see. Mr Heygate used to keep a note of all the species that he saw and where he’d found them. You can understand why the inspector wished that he’d found the diary. It might have told him where Mr Heygate went that night in order to see that owl.’ Woodford seemed distracted. ‘Did you hear what I said?’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ he said, abruptly. ‘That diary could be important.’

  ‘Yet it wasn’t anywhere in the house.’

  ‘Or if it was, it was carefully hidden.’ He rubbed a hand across his chin and seemed to forget that she was there. After a minute, he noticed her again. ‘Back to work, Miss Hope,’ he ordered. ‘You’re going to be very busy before too long.’

  ‘Yes, Mr Woodford,’ she said, relieved to get away.

  While she went back into the refreshment room, he sauntered down the platform towards the stationmaster’s house. He studied it with fresh interest and was about to get closer when a uniformed policeman came into view. The house was still being guarded. Woodford gave the policeman a friendly wave but his emotions were in turmoil. He suddenly felt under threat.

  When yet another summons came from the bishop’s palace, Superintendent Steel was irritated. He had far too much to do to dance attendance on the bishop. After toying with the idea of ignoring the letter, he elected to obey the request in the end but made a point of arriving late. Predictably, it infuriated the bishop.

  ‘I don’t like to be kept waiting,’ he rasped from his chair in the library.

  ‘I had something more important to do, Bishop.’

  ‘Nothing is more important than what I have to say. I want that woman haule
d before a magistrate at once and sent to prison.’

  ‘I think you’re being unnecessarily vindictive,’ said the other.

  ‘Don’t you realise what she did, man?’

  ‘My officers gave me a full report.’

  ‘She defiled the house of God and, by implication, challenged my authority.’

  ‘When she entered the cathedral,’ said the superintendent, ‘I don’t believe the lady had you in mind at all. It was an impulsive act by a desperate woman.’

  ‘It was also a calculated attack on me,’ declared the bishop, ‘and it comes on the back of a murder that was an orchestrated assault on my position in the city.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Bishop, but I fail to see that.’

  ‘There are far too many things you fail to see, Superintendent. Blindness in a police officer is a grave shortcoming.’

  ‘Lack of compassion in a bishop is an even graver one.’

  Bishop Phillpotts could not believe what he’d just heard. His eyes were aflame, his cheeks scarlet and his whole body shaking. They were alone in the library and he’d been sitting behind his desk. His visitor’s retort made him leap to his feet.

  ‘Do you have the audacity to accuse me of such a fault?’

  ‘It was not an accusation,’ said Steel, striking a conciliatory note. ‘It was an observation. I respectfully submit that your attitude towards Mrs Rossiter falls short of Christian forbearance. The woman is patently unwell. She needs help and understanding.’

  ‘Punishment is what she needs,’ said the bishop. ‘It must be a harsh and visible punishment to deter others. Charges must be brought against her.’

  ‘Inspector Colbeck felt that that would be unkind.’

  ‘He’s not the person who suffered a gross public insult.’

  ‘And neither were you, Bishop,’ said Steel. ‘Mrs Rossiter didn’t know what she was doing. For some reason, she lost all inhibition. We should strive to forgive her for what was clearly uncharacteristic impetuosity.’

  ‘Heavens above, man!’ exclaimed the bishop. ‘She grabbed the crucifix.’

  ‘It was a foolish gesture.’

  ‘It was a denial of the very existence of the Almighty.’