‘He might have seen one of the posters.’
‘They were put up after the Advertiser came out. The anonymous letter in question was the first to arrive, immediately after the newspapers had been delivered. My guess is that the man dashed it off as soon as he saw how much money was on offer.’
‘That’s logical,’ said Leeming, approvingly. ‘And I daresay Mr Morris was able to tell you the names of everyone who has a copy of the paper delivered to him.’
‘Exactly – all that I had to do was to go through his list of subscribers and let him explain who each of them was. According to Morris, only four people could be deemed to be responsible. It’s my job to find out which one it was.’
‘Inspector Colbeck will be very grateful to you.’
‘Please pass on my regards to him.’
‘I daresay that he’d like to thank you in person, Inspector. In fact, he may well have another task for you.’
‘Then I’ll accept it gladly. We must catch the killer.’
‘We must also punish those who are trying to mislead us,’ said Leeming. ‘We can’t concentrate on the search if we keep getting letters designed to hamper us.’
Piercey lowered his voice. ‘Have we … made any headway yet?’
‘We continue to amass evidence.’
‘But you must have picked out suspects by now.’
‘Certain people have aroused our interest.’
‘Might I know who they are?’
‘I’m not at liberty to tell you.’
‘But I’m involved in the investigation, Sergeant.’
‘We’ve learnt never to release names too soon,’ Leeming told him. ‘It’s a strict policy. Evidence must be overwhelming before we strike.’
‘Can’t you even give me a hint?’
‘I’m afraid not, sir. You’ll have to ask Inspector Colbeck.’
After speaking to two of the suspects, Colbeck spent an improving hour with Stinson, assuring him that they were confident of success and checking on the employment records of the five people he and Leeming had identified as potential culprits. He then returned to their temporary office and wrote their names on a sheet of paper, listing everything that they’d found out about the men and searching, in each case, for motive, means and opportunity. It had occurred to him at the very start that more than one person might have been involved in the murder but, as he studied the accumulated details of the five men, he couldn’t see how any two of them could possibly have colluded with each other. Rodman had therefore, in all likelihood, been killed by a single individual with a plan to remove the man’s head and to leave him tied up in a strange position that might, or might not, have religious implications. Of the suspects, only Simeon Cudlip was a self-declared atheist. Had the clerk created the grotesque scene of horror and humiliation that was found in the Erecting Shop? What had he achieved by doing so?
Hector Samway and Daniel Gill both had enough hatred of the victim to drive them on to murder and the butcher’s assistant would have ready access to a cleaver for decapitation. It was, however, difficult to see how he’d compelled Rodman to enter the Works in the dead of night. Earlier on, Leeming had been inclined to install Gareth Llewellyn as their prime suspect and Colbeck had opposed the idea. Given what he’d learnt from Rachel Griffiths, however, the inspector had begun to change his mind, recalling that the Welshman had deserted his countrymen in the Glue Pot in order to go to the Queen’s Tap, the pub where Rodman was still allowed to drink. There seemed to be no other explanation as to why Llewellyn had left a place that reputedly sold the best beer in the village. He wanted to be close to Rodman, ready to pounce.
Fred Alford was the most puzzling suspect and there were moments when Colbeck felt that he shouldn’t even be considered alongside the other four men. On the face of it, Alford was a happily married man with a family and had no apparent reason for wanting to slaughter a close friend. If he still cared for Betty Rodman as much as had been claimed, why would he subject her to the unspeakable agony of losing her husband in such a cruel way? It might make her turn to him for help but her dependence on him was all that he stood to gain. As long as his own wife was alive, Betty was hopelessly beyond his reach. Even if Liza Alford died – by natural or other means – would her husband really want to take on responsibility for a woman with three children when he already had four children of his own to feed? Fred Alford seemed like the ideal friend to have in a crisis. And yet there was something about the man that made Colbeck doubt his innocence. He wished that he knew what it was.
His deliberations were soon interrupted by the arrival of Victor Leeming. The sergeant passed on the message he’d been given by Inspector Piercey, then described his confrontation with Daniel Gill.
‘He was lying through his teeth, sir.’
‘That’s his normal mode of speech,’ said Colbeck. ‘Gill is unacquainted with the concept of truth.’
‘I felt sorry for his wife. She was so meek and mild.’
‘You were right to apply pressure on her, Victor. It may have seemed unkind at the time but you got the desired result.’
‘When I told Gill I’d spoken to her, his eyes nearly popped out of his head.’
‘We’ve both established that he’s a congenital liar. Is he also a killer?’
‘He could be, sir.’
‘We’d never secure a conviction with “could be”. There are four other men who could be guilty. We need incontestable proof.’
‘I’m beginning think that it was Hector Samway.’
‘What makes you believe that?’
‘He’s strong and aggressive. Losing his wife made him very bitter. It must have rankled with him that Rodman went home to a lovely woman every night while he was sleeping in an empty bed.’
‘We don’t know that it was always empty,’ suggested Colbeck. ‘I remembered something that the railway policeman told you.’
‘Edgar Fellowes? He knows this village inside out.’
‘You said he mentioned that there was a brothel here. There’s no shortage of single men here and a lonely widower like Samway could also be tempted to look for female company even if it meant paying for it.’
Leeming gave a mirthless laugh. ‘The last time I took part in a raid on a brothel, most of the men in there were married. It was disgusting.’
‘We’re not moral guardians, Victor. We’re after a killer. If you think his name could be Hector Samway, you might find it useful to visit the brothel and speak to the local prostitutes. Find out if he was a regular client of theirs and if – this is important – he was there on the night of the murder. And while you’re at it,’ added Colbeck, ‘see if Simeon Cudlip is known to them. I don’t believe that he lives like a monk when he’s off duty.’
‘Neither do I, sir. It will be interesting to see if he was paying for pleasure on the night when Rodman was killed. If he was, he’d have an alibi.’
‘Cudlip would never use it. He has to keep up the pretence of being above that kind of thing. It’s the reason he guards his private life so carefully.’
‘Until we know more, Samway is my man. What about you, sir?’
‘Well, I’ve had second thoughts about Llewellyn.’
Leeming was surprised. ‘You dismissed him completely.’
‘I was too hasty.’
‘I’ve never heard you admit that before. You’re always so careful.’
‘Now that we know a lot more about the Welshman, I see him in a different light. He’s violent, devious and vengeful. He mocked the way that Rodman sang in church and was desperately keen to replace him as a soloist in the concert.’
‘Is that a strong enough motive for murder?’ asked Leeming, dubiously.
‘Ordinarily, I’d say that it wasn’t.’
‘And now?’
‘I’ll reserve my judgement,’ said Colbeck.
He looked down at the names in front of him, convinced that one of them was the man they wanted. All that they had to do was to keep dig
ging into the immediate past of the quintet until they found the evidence they needed.
‘What will you say in your report to Mouldy Grosvenor?’ asked Leeming.
‘I’ll tell him that we’re making slow but steady progress.’
‘If we don’t make an arrest soon, he’ll claim we’re being incompetent.’
‘He’s envious of our reputation, Victor. Ignore his jibes.’
‘That was easy when he was only an inspector like you. He’s the acting superintendent now. That gives him power over us.’
‘Yes, but he’ll have no idea how to exercise it. He wants us to fail so that he can berate us. We must ensure that we don’t give him that opportunity.’
‘I know it’s a strange thing to say,’ admitted Leeming, ‘but I’m starting to miss Superintendent Tallis. At least he never crowed over us and that’s all that Mouldy Grosvenor ever does.’
Without warning, the door was flung open and their superior strode in purposefully before taking up a combative stance.
‘Did I hear my name being mentioned?’ he asked.
Grosvenor’s sly smile had been replaced by a triumphant smirk.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Edward Tallis was in pain. His head was pounding and the handcuffs that held his arms together behind his back were chafing his wrists. He had no idea where he was or how he came to be there. All that he remembered was a stream of foul language followed by a crushing blow to his skull. Having lain unconscious in an awkward position for some while, he found that every muscle ached. The feel of the straw and the stench of manure told him that he was in some kind of stable. Only a few fingers of light poked through the gaps in the timber to soften the gloom. He rolled over on his back and looked upwards. Ropes and harness dangled above him. Tallis could just make out a trapdoor in the ceiling but he had no means of reaching it. His mind searched frantically for answers. Where was he? Who brought him there? And why had he been kidnapped in the first place?
It was infuriating. The promise of a whole weekend in the company of his old comrades had made his mouth water. He’d been looking forward to the reunion for months. Instead of being able to step back in time to his army days, he was held fast in a fetid prison. Robbed of the pleasures he’d anticipated, he was utterly humiliated.
After clearing his throat, he put back his head and yelled.
‘Is anybody there?’
His voice sounded dull and hoarse. He tried again.
‘Who are you?’
Once again, there was no response. He fell back on a threat.
‘Let me go or you’ll suffer for it. Do you know who I am and what I am?’
He might have been howling in the wilderness. Nobody heard or came. Tallis made an effort to sound more reasonable. Struggling up into a sitting position, he rested his back against a stall.
‘Let’s talk this over, shall we? I think you’ll find you have the wrong man.’
This time he did provoke a reply but it was only the lowing of a disgruntled cow. There was no other sound, no babble of human voices, no noise of traffic rattling over the cobblestones of Canterbury. He surmised that he was in a remote spot in the country, well out of earshot of anyone. They’d stolen his hat, frock coat, watch, wallet and – worst of all – his gold cufflinks with the regimental coat of arms engraved on them. In their place was a set of handcuffs that were causing him sheer agony.
‘Where am I?’ he shouted.
But he didn’t even expect an answer this time.
Martin Grosvenor enjoyed his moment. For the first time ever, he’d managed to secure an advantage over Colbeck, startling him with his sudden appearance and cowing him into at least a semblance of submission. If the inspector was shocked, Leeming was absolutely flabbergasted, staring at the newcomer as if he’d just returned from the dead and taking a few defensive steps backwards. The acting superintendent explained why he’d come to Swindon.
‘I had the idea from my predecessor,’ he said.
‘Superintendent Tallis is your superior, sir,’ Colbeck pointed out, ‘and not your predecessor.’
‘There’s no need to be so pedantic.’
‘You have but a fleeting ownership of his mantle.’
‘And I mean to put it to good use. That’s why I descended unexpectedly on you and the sergeant. It’s something the superintendent used to do with great effect. He told me about the time he took control of a case in Derby.’
‘That’s not quite what happened, sir.’
‘It wasn’t,’ agreed Leeming. ‘Superintendent Tallis simply got in the way. Luckily, he injured himself and had to go back to London. As soon as he did that, we were able to solve the case.’
Grosvenor sniffed. ‘He tells a different story.’
‘He would.’
‘I’ll allow no disrespect of the superintendent.’
‘Which one, sir – you or him?’
‘Both of us,’ snapped Grosvenor.
‘We’re very pleased to see you, sir,’ said Colbeck, adapting quickly to the situation. ‘It will save me the trouble of sending a report. We’re honoured that you should favour us when there are so many other cases clamouring for your attention.’
‘This is the one that interests me, Inspector.’
‘May I ask why?’
‘It’s the one in which I feel I can make the most useful contribution,’ said the other, loftily. ‘At first glance, your last report appeared to be sound enough but I was soon able to see a series of lacunae in it.’
Leeming frowned. ‘What are they?’
‘Gaps, spaces, missing parts,’ said Colbeck.
‘Carefully hidden as they were,’ continued Grosvenor, ‘I spotted them.’
‘Then perhaps you’ll be good enough to point them out, sir.’ He indicated the chairs. ‘Why don’t we all sit down and carry on the discussion in comfort?’
When the three of them were seated, Grosvenor delivered his critique of Colbeck’s second report, claiming that it was too unstructured and that it gave him no confidence in the prospect of an early arrest.
‘We’ve only been here two days or so,’ argued Leeming.
Grosvenor was acerbic. ‘I expected you to have made some advances.’
‘What advances did you make in two days when you were in charge of the Seymour case? It took you seven weeks before you worked out who the culprit was.’
‘That’s history. This is the only investigation that matters now and I want a sign of industry from you. Where do things stand at this moment?’
Colbeck was tempted to tell him that his presence had brought their work to a complete standstill but he didn’t want to anger Grosvenor any more than was necessary. He therefore gave him a cogent and comprehensive account of their movements that day and revealed the evidence they’d garnered. To his credit, Grosvenor showed that he’d read very carefully both of the reports sent to Scotland Yard. Indeed, on the strength of the known facts, he was ready to plump for the name of the killer.
‘Daniel Gill ought to be in custody,’ he insisted.
‘I agree,’ said Leeming. ‘That shop where he works is in a terrible state. His uncle ought to be locked up for keeping it so dirty and smelly.’
‘Everything points to Gill as the killer.’
‘Does it?’
‘Who but a butcher would hack off someone’s head?’
‘You’ve obviously forgotten our adventures in Crewe,’ said Colbeck. ‘We found a severed head in a hatbox and it certainly wasn’t put there by a butcher.’
‘That was a different case, man. Don’t confuse the issue.’
‘What was Gill’s motive?’
‘He had a long-standing grudge against Rodman because the latter had kept his job when Gill was ousted.’
‘Several people here have been holding a grudge against Rodman, sir. We’ve whittled the list down to five.’
‘I’ve just whittled it down to one.’
‘Then you can have the pleasure of arresting Mr Gill,�
�� said Colbeck, easily. ‘If you stay here long enough, you may also be forced to release him.’
‘We don’t think it’s him,’ said Leeming, bluntly.
‘When he’s under lock and key,’ argued Grosvenor, ‘he can be interrogated properly. I’d soon get a confession out of him.’
‘It won’t be a confession of murder, sir.’
‘Why not?’
‘Gill has too much to lose. He has a pretty wife and two young children.’
‘So does this fellow called Llewellyn yet the inspector has just told me that the Welshman is the most likely killer.’
‘He simply became a prime suspect, sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘In essence, I still believe that any of the five people we’ve named could be guilty. Gill, Llewellyn, Samway, Cudlip and Alford deserve the same degree of scrutiny.’
Grosvenor was defiant. ‘I’d like to meet Gill.’
‘Take a peg for your nose,’ advised Leeming. ‘That shop has a real pong.’
‘You can accompany me, Colbeck. I’ll show you how to question a suspect until he cracks. You’re far too polite with them.’
‘Perhaps that’s why the inspector has made many more arrests than you, sir,’ said Leeming. ‘And all his arrests led to convictions.’
Reminded of an uncomfortable truth, Grosvenor quivered with fury.
It had not been long before Terence Wardlow realised that something was amiss. His friend should have returned already. Hauling himself to his feet, Wardlow went out to the cloisters and hobbled around them, looking into every room. When there was no sign of Tallis, his first thought was that his friend had been taken ill or had some kind of accident. Had that been the case, he then decided, Tallis would definitely have sent word to him to put his mind at rest. Another possible explanation was that his old friend had simply wandered off somewhere and lost his way. It was something that had happened to more than one of Wardlow’s older acquaintances. Their grasp on reality was slipping badly. Yet that wasn’t a charge that could be levelled against Tallis. He was fit, healthy and remarkably alert. If there’d been any loss of mental power, he’d have been unable to keep such a taxing job.
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