‘Was it a social call?’
‘He claimed that he was just checking up on her but she had the feeling that he was simply keen to see her again.’
‘That’s not surprising. Lydia is a handsome young woman.’
‘She’s going to be spending Christmas with us, Robert.’
‘Then she’ll be very welcome – so would Hinton, of course,’ he added with a grin, ‘but I daresay that he has other commitments. Besides, we shouldn’t try to play Cupid. I learnt a long time ago not to interfere in other people’s private lives.’
She kissed him again. ‘I’m glad that you interfered in mine.’
‘That’s very gratifying, Mrs Colbeck.’ Her face puckered with concern. ‘What’s the trouble?’
‘I’m just terribly afraid that you won’t be home for Christmas. But when I catch myself thinking that, I’m ashamed at being so selfish. I have a lovely home and family,’ she said. ‘I should be thinking of that poor woman in Swindon whose husband was murdered. Her situation must be unbearable. What sort of Christmas will she and her children have? It will be such an ordeal for her.’
Though he’d had many calls to make that day, the Rev. Howard Law made sure that he spent a lot of time with Betty Rodman. He called at the house just as Fred Alford was leaving, suggesting to him that he delayed sending his wife to be with her friend. Alone with Betty, he listened patiently to her concerns even though she was simply saying the same things in different ways. He waited for his moment then broached a topic that had been on his mind since the murder.
‘Do you feel able to join us in church on Sunday?’
She was flustered. ‘I never even thought of it.’
‘The reason I ask is that I intend to mention Frank in my sermon. Everyone will expect me to say something because of his associations with St Mark’s. If you did feel able to come, you’d feel the warmth and compassion of the whole community. People care about you, Betty.’
She was uncertain. ‘I’ll think about it.’
‘I’ll be happy to arrange transport for you to and from the service.’
‘If I did come, I’d go with Fred and Liza but I wouldn’t take the children.’
‘That’s very wise. It would be overwhelming for them. Whenever you feel ready, I’ll speak to the boys about what’s happened. They must be asking.’
‘I’ve told them that their father had a bad accident, that’s all.’
‘They deserve to know the truth.’
‘Then I’d be grateful if you told them.’
‘I will.’
He went on to describe the plans he and his wife had made for the family when they had to leave the house. She was amazed at how much trouble they were taking on her behalf, removing all immediate financial worries and guaranteeing them bed and board at the parsonage for as long as they wished. Betty felt able to ask a question that had always haunted her.
‘Did Frank ever come to see you?’
‘He came to choir practices regularly.’
‘That’s not what I meant. Did he ever … ask for your help?’
He gave a straight answer. ‘Yes, he did.’
‘What did he say?’
He pursed his lips. ‘Your husband had his demons,’ he began, ‘and they caused him a lot of heartache. Frank knew only too well that he had a loving wife and family yet he kept letting you all down. He couldn’t understand why he was driven to do things like getting drunk and fighting that he afterwards regretted.’ He looked at her quizzically. ‘What was the best day of the week in your marriage?’
‘Oh, it was Sunday,’ she replied. ‘There’s no question of that.’
‘It was his day of repentance. He always stayed sober.’
‘He’d play all afternoon with the boys.’
‘It’s what fathers do, Betty.’
‘He didn’t pay much attention to them during the week. They couldn’t understand it. Other boys used to tease them at school about Frank’s reputation as a drunk. They came home crying sometimes.’
‘It must have been very hard on you.’
‘I had to get used to it.’
‘Those days are over, Betty,’ he said, gently. ‘You’ll be leading a different kind of life from now on; you’ll get support from all of us. It isn’t only Fred and his wife who love you. We all do.’
‘Thank you.’ She looked him in the eye. ‘Who killed my husband?’
‘We don’t yet know.’
‘Was it because he hated Frank?’ she asked, forcing the words out. ‘Or did I have something to do with it?’
‘What a strange thought to have! You’re completely innocent.’
‘I wonder.’
‘You’re above reproach, Betty,’ he said, not understanding what she was trying to say. ‘As for naming the killer, all I can tell you is Inspector Colbeck will soon solve the mystery. He’s working very hard to do so.’
Colbeck didn’t stand on ceremony. When he got to Scotland Yard late that evening, he knocked on the superintendent’s door and went straight into the office. Grosvenor was behind the desk, smoking a cigar. He had the guilty look of a naughty child caught eating a cream cake on the sly.
‘What the devil are you doing here?’ he demanded.
‘Superintendent Tallis asked me to keep an eye on his cigars,’ said Colbeck, sarcastically. ‘You’re taking too great an advantage of his absence.’
‘I bought this box of cigars with my own money.’
‘You may ape his fondness for smoking but you still can’t compare with him. I came back to London because I didn’t have faith in your ability to take charge of a manhunt. The fact that you’re still here is proof of that. You should be down in Canterbury, directing the operation.’
‘Don’t tell me how to do my job.’
‘Somebody needs to, sir.’
‘Damn your impertinence!’
‘What steps have you taken?’ asked Colbeck. ‘If you don’t tell me, I’ll march straight to the commissioner’s office. He needs to be involved in this discussion.’
‘Don’t do that,’ said the other, worriedly, getting to his feet and stubbing out his cigar in the ashtray. ‘I have everything in hand. Captain Wardlow was here earlier. He was the superintendent’s host and raised the alarm when he realised there was a problem. On his own initiative, he drafted in members of their old regiment into the hunt. I fancy that the superintendent will be touched by that. Soldiers are combing the city for him.’
‘Captain Wardlow is to be congratulated but we remain in charge of the search. It’s your responsibility to take further action.’
‘I’ve already dispatched two detectives to Canterbury.’
‘Who are they?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Yes, it does. I insist on knowing.’
Grosvenor was on the defensive. ‘I sent Legge and Hinton.’
‘They’re both detective constables,’ said Colbeck in disbelief.
‘They’ll be able to marshal the men at their disposal.’
‘Somebody more senior is needed.’
‘Nobody was available. I have every confidence in the two men I chose. Legge is an experienced detective and Hinton has definite promise. I’d ordered him to work with Inspector Vallence but have now redeployed him.’
‘Inspector Vallence is the person you should have redeployed. He’d have some standing in the eyes of the local police and of the soldiers.’
‘I think you’ll find that my decision was the right one,’ said Grosvenor, haughtily. ‘Instead of harassing me, you should be back in Swindon, doing your job properly by arresting Daniel Gill.’
‘It would be a waste of time.’
‘Get back there and do what you were sent you to do.’
‘I’m too concerned by this disappearance,’ said Colbeck with controlled anger. ‘I have great respect for Legge and Hinton but you’ve given them a task that’s far too demanding for them. Higher ranked detectives should have been sent and you know it,
sir.’ His voice hardened. ‘It’s almost as if you don’t want the superintendent to be found.’
Grosvenor glared at him malevolently.
Terence Wardlow was exhausted. Still smarting from the brusque treatment he was given at Scotland Yard, he caught the train back to Canterbury and reflected on the cruel speed with which fortunes could change. After a thoroughly pleasurable visit to the cathedral with Tallis, he’d suddenly found himself reporting his friend as missing, thus setting a manhunt in motion. The longer it went on, the less faith he had that Tallis would be found. Wardlow was suffering. Having gone to London for reassurance, he’d come away feeling rebuffed. To make things worse, his arthritis flared up, making the train journey an exercise in pain and discomfort. When he finally got home that evening, all that he wanted to do was to slump in a chair and call for a large brandy.
An hour later, his wife came in to say that he had a visitor. Hopes rising, he asked for the man to be admitted, only to learn that it was a constable dispatched from Scotland Yard and given his address.
‘I’m sorry to trouble you, Captain Wardlow,’ said Alan Hinton, politely, ‘but Superintendent Grosvenor told me to make contact with you to see if you’d remembered any details that you didn’t pass on when you came to Scotland Yard. My colleague, detective Constable Legge, has gone to introduce himself to the local constabulary and to the soldiers involved in the hunt.’
‘Grosvenor should be here himself,’ protested Wardlow.
‘He sent us in his stead.’
‘No disrespect to you, young man, but this kind of response would never happen in the army. In the face of a crisis, I would never send a callow recruit to what was clearly an incident requiring an officer.’
‘I can only do my best, sir.’
‘At least you’ve been kind enough to consult me. Once I’d informed the superintendent about the urgency of the situation, he more or less hustled me out of his office. Is he always so high-handed?’
Hinton was diplomatic. ‘It’s not for me to say, sir.’
‘I will complain in the strongest terms to Major Tallis.’
‘We have to find him first and I believe that you may hold the clue to our doing that. If he really was abducted, it’s unlikely to have been an opportunist crime. He’d have been watched and followed. It was only when he was on his own that his captors stepped in – that’s what I assume, anyway.’
‘It’s what I’m certain must have happened,’ said Wardlow.
‘Then how did they know he’d be in the city in the first place?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘He came here to attend a reunion at his old regiment,’ said Hinton, ‘and you were kind enough to invite him to stay here with you.’
‘That’s right. This damned hip of mine decided to be benevolent for once, allowing me to hobble around without too much discomfort. I therefore contacted the barracks to say that I would be attending the reunion dinner, after all. I then promptly issued an invitation to Major Tallis to stay here ahead of the event.’
‘You wrote a letter to the regiment – is that correct?’
‘Yes.’
‘So the person who opened it would have been aware that Superintendent Tallis would be staying here last night.’
‘Naturally.’
‘And who would that person be?’
‘It’s Captain Ardingley, who is organising the dinner.’
‘Do you know him?’
‘Of course, I do. He’s a first-rate soldier and an excellent fellow. As soon as I reported Major Tallis’s disappearance to him, he arranged for his men to join in the search. Even in the dark, they’re still at it.’
‘That may be the answer,’ said Hinton, pondering. ‘I’d like to meet Captain Ardingley in person.’
‘Then you’ll have to go to the barracks in Hythe.’
‘I’ll do that at once.’
‘Why this urgent need to see him?’
‘The captain was clearly not the only person aware of your change of plan. Someone else learnt that the superintendent would be under your roof. In fact, he may well have kept your house under surveillance.’
Wardlow started. ‘Good God!’ he exclaimed. ‘That’s monstrous.’
‘Who else would have been able to read your letter?’ asked Hinton. ‘That’s what I need to find out in Hythe.’
‘I feel so guilty. In inviting my dear friend here, I unwittingly made him a target. And the worst of it is – the possibility must be faced – that someone in our old regiment might be party to the abduction. It’s terrifying.’
Having groped his way around for hours in the dark, Tallis paused for a rest, gripping the side of a stall. He was about to doze off when he heard the sound of approaching hooves. It made him rally and feel his way to the door. A horse came to a halt nearby.
‘Let me out!’ he yelled.
‘You’re still alive, then?’ shouted a man’s voice.
‘Who, in God’s name, are you?’
‘You’ll find out. Goodnight. Sleep well.’
The horse was ridden away to the accompaniment of derisive laughter.
Robert Colbeck had brought the plan of the Works home so that he could study it once again. When it was spread out on the table, he pointed out the place where the mutilated body was discovered. Madeleine was interested in every detail. Having looked at the arrangement of the different shops and sheds in the complex, she asked about the realistic chances of an early arrest.
‘I simply can’t give you a date, my love.’
‘What does your instinct tell you?’
‘For once, I’m not relying entirely on instinct.’
‘But that’s Inspector Colbeck’s secret weapon.’
‘You’re my secret weapon, Madeleine,’ he said, slipping an arm around her. ‘As for Inspector Colbeck, he may not hold that rank for long.’
‘Why not?’
‘I told Grosvenor exactly what I thought about his response to the emergency and I left him fuming. He’s a vindictive man and will want revenge. If we’ve lost one superintendent, he may well be the replacement. In short, you may soon find that you’re married to Sergeant Colbeck.’
‘The commissioner would never allow that.’
‘I’d hope not but Grosvenor can be very persuasive.’
‘Mr Tallis will be found alive, surely?’
‘That’s by no means certain.’
‘But he seems to be the victim of a kidnap.’
‘Then where’s the ransom demand? It should have arrived hours ago.’
Madeleine’s voice was hushed. ‘Do you think he’s been murdered?’
‘I don’t know what to think, my love,’ he admitted. ‘It’s sensible to consider all options and one of them, alas, is that Grosvenor may be promoted. In that event, our work at Scotland Yard is going to be far less effective.’ He clicked his tongue. ‘Oh, I wish that I could supervise the manhunt. Legge and Hinton have no experience of dealing with such a situation. But I’m stuck down in Swindon when I should be in Canterbury.’
‘Could Victor handle the case on his own?’
‘He’d never be allowed to do so, Madeleine. Grosvenor will see to that. He wants to keep me in Wiltshire until I listen to his advice and arrest the suspect that he – in his wisdom – has picked out as the killer.’
‘But he doesn’t know anything about the case.’
‘He’s read my reports. In his mind, that qualifies him as an expert. However, let’s not talk about him. It’s too depressing.’ He looked down at the plan and tapped it with a finger. ‘One of our suspects, a Welshman, works here in the rolling mill. It’s unlikely that he’s ever been inside the Erecting Shop yet that’s where the body was found. The same is true of another suspect. He works as a clerk. As it happens, his office is close to the Erecting Shop, but would he ever venture into it?’
‘It seems unlikely, Robert.’
‘I agree. Mr Cudlip is fastidious about his appearance. He’d certainly keep o
ut of there during the day for fear of soiling his suit. If it wasn’t the scene of the crime,’ he added, ‘I’d recommend that you visit it.’
‘Why?’
‘It would inspire you, Madeleine. You’d love to paint it in operation.’
‘I’m rather preoccupied at the moment,’ she said, looking upward. ‘I may have to wait until Helen is a little older.’ She scrutinised the plan again. ‘To be honest, I’m not so much interested in the Works as in the houses built for the employees.’
‘They’re quite impressive and better than some we’ve seen in other railway towns. Victor is quite taken with them. They’re solid, well built and functional.’
‘That’s why I’d hate to live in any of them. They look like a series of identical boxes enclosed within a much larger box. Everything is so relentlessly symmetrical.’
‘That’s the artist in you speaking out,’ he said, laughing. ‘You hate straight lines. What you love to paint is the dirty, irregular, higgledy-piggledy world of locomotives with its endless variations. The New Town is a study in uniformity. There are few different shapes and sizes.’ As a thought struck him, Colbeck turned to her. ‘Perhaps you’ve picked out something that we missed.’
‘I doubt that.’
‘Well, I’ve been working on the assumption that there’s a religious aspect to the murder but you’ve just touched on an alternative explanation. Living in a place like that must be reassuring for most of the workers because they’ve never known anything better. For someone, however, that regimented existence could be quite oppressive. Yes,’ said Colbeck, warming to his theme, ‘the Railway Village runs like clockwork. Every aspect of people’s lives is controlled by the GWR. That’s a comfort to the vast majority but there must be those who find it stifling.’
‘I’m not sure I follow your reasoning, Robert.’
‘What if this crime has nothing to with religion but is a calculated assault on the Works and the way it forces everyone into a single mode of living and behaviour? Frank Rodman could have been murdered anywhere, yet the killer went out of his way to choose a crucial part of the Works.’
A Christmas Railway Mystery Page 18
