Edward Marston - Timetable of Death

‘Oh?’

‘He was here first thing this morning, holding a vigil here then walking over to look into the open grave.’

‘Does he have an obsession with death?’

‘I didn’t ask him. I was just grateful when he was chased away.’

‘Who chased him?’

‘I was speaking figuratively. Bert Knowles drove past on his cart. When he saw Hockaday beside the first grave he’d dug for Mrs Peet, he yelled out a warning to leave it alone. I won’t give you his exact words,’ said Sadler, meekly, ‘because they were rather ripe. What they amounted to is this. If Hockaday so much as touched the earth piled up beside the grave, Bert threatened to bury him alive.’

When the cab dropped them off outside the house, Leeming paid the fare then turned to look up at it. It was an attractive terraced property with a small garden in front of it. He and Madeleine opened the gate and went through it to the front door. A ring on the doorbell brought a maidservant who opened the door and looked from one to the other with a pleasant smile.

‘May I help you?’ she said.

‘Does a Miss Beatrice Myler live here?’ asked Madeleine.

‘Yes, she does.’

‘May we speak with her, please?’

‘I’ll handle this, Dora,’ said a voice from behind her and the servant immediately moved away. The newcomer appraised the callers. ‘I’m Beatrice Myler. Can I help you in any way?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ said Madeleine, hopes vanquished by the sight of a middle-aged woman.

‘I told you it was the wrong house,’ said Leeming.

‘We do apologise for disturbing you, Miss Myler. We thought you might be someone else, you see.’

‘But obviously you’re not Miss Lydia Quayle.’

‘No,’ said Beatrice, defensively. ‘You’ll have to look elsewhere.’

‘You share the same interest in Italy with her,’ explained Madeleine. ‘That’s how the mistake arose. You and Miss Quayle are obviously kindred spirits.’

Beatrice was keen to send them on their way but Lydia suddenly appeared.

‘Did I hear my name?’ She looked at the visitors. ‘I’m Lydia Quayle.’

‘Oh,’ said Leeming. ‘We were led to believe that-’

‘We’ve found you at last,’ said Madeleine, interrupting him and ignoring the fact that Beatrice had lied to them. ‘May we have a word with you, please?’

‘If you wish,’ said Lydia, guardedly. ‘Please come in.’

She stood aside to let them enter the house. Beatrice was less welcoming. As they went through the door, Madeleine could feel that the older woman resented their arrival. It had aroused her protective instinct.

Colbeck had found the conversation with Lucas Quayle illuminating. He now had far more insight into the mechanics of the family. Having secured the address where Lydia was living, he went to Derby railway station and sent a telegraph that would eventually reach Leeming at Scotland Yard. When he stepped out of the office, he saw Donald Haygarth standing on the platform. In a remarkably short space of time, Haygarth was behaving as if already appointed to the post of chairman of the Midland Railway. A distinct air of ownership surrounded him.

‘Good day to you, sir,’ said Colbeck.

‘Hello, Inspector,’ replied the other. ‘What brings you here?’

‘I’ve been making use of your telegraph station. Thank you for putting Mr Cope at my disposal, by the way. He’s been very helpful.’

‘Cope is both knowledgeable and loyal, two qualities I happen to admire.’

‘He told me that he rides here from Kedleston every day.’

‘Yes, he’s much more robust than he looks.’

‘How did he get on with Mr Quayle?’

‘He treats every member of the board in the same way,’ said Haygarth, smoothly, ‘and was on excellent terms with Vivian Quayle. Men like Cope are true servants of this company.’

‘That confirms my impression.’

‘Do you have anything to report, Inspector?’

‘We continue to make progress, sir.’

‘But you’re nowhere near making an arrest yet, I fancy.’

‘There’s a lot more evidence to collect before we can do that,’ said Colbeck. ‘What happens when a train comes into the station?’

‘Apart from the ear-splitting noise, there’s a lot of smoke and steam.’

‘It’s the same with a murder investigation, sir. At the start, everything is covered with smoke and steam. It takes time for it to clear. We’re starting to make out the shape of the carriages and even the outline of the locomotive. What we can’t yet see is the killer on the footplate.’

‘Will he have had a fireman to help him?’

‘It’s possible, Mr Haygarth, or he may be on his own.’

‘What have you been doing since I last saw you?’

‘The most significant development was a breach in the wall of silence around the Quayle family. Stanley Quayle was virtually unapproachable.’

‘How did you get through to them?’

‘I didn’t,’ replied Colbeck. ‘In fact, they got through to me. To be more precise, I had a visit from Lucas Quayle. He was vastly more informative than his elder brother.’

‘Did he tell you anything that advanced the investigation?’

‘I think so. He put flesh and bone on a number of nebulous characters. I have a much clearer image of the family now. He also had something interesting to say about Gerard Burns.’

‘He still sounds the most likely killer to me.’

‘If you have any evidence to support that view, sir, I’d be happy to see it.’

Haygarth was peevish. ‘You said yourself that he had to be considered as a suspect.’

‘He’s only one of a number, sir.’

‘Who are the others?’

‘I’m not at liberty to tell you at the moment.’

‘But you do have people in mind?’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Colbeck. ‘We have a list of possible names.’

‘What about Sergeant Leeming? Has he turned up anything of interest in Spondon?’

‘The sergeant always uncovers useful information. But he’s not in the village at the moment. I sent him back to London.’

‘What on earth is he doing there?’

‘He’s following a line of inquiry, sir. I suppose that I should have asked him to speak to you,’ Colbeck went on before the other man could question him further. ‘If he wanted information about Spondon, you could have given it to him. After all, you were born there.’

‘That’s beside the point.’

Hiding his irritation, he glanced down the line at the approaching train.

‘Superintendent Wigg didn’t seem to think so.’

‘The superintendent can be a troublemaker at times. It’s one of the reasons I didn’t want him to handle this case. He has too many axes to grind.’

‘How long did you live in Spondon?’

‘We moved when I was only a boy.’

‘But you were baptised in the local church, I take it.’

‘Yes, I was.’

‘And you know the geography of the village.’

‘I’ve probably forgotten most of it, Inspector. I haven’t been near Spondon for decades. My time is divided between making sure that my silk mills are operating at maximum efficiency and keeping the Midland Railway under surveillance.’

‘That’s a taxing demand on any man.’

‘I’ve learnt to bear responsibility lightly.’

‘Then you deserve congratulation, sir.’

‘It’s something that Vivian Quayle was unable to do,’ said Haygarth as the train got ever closer. ‘When he got involved with this company, he handed over the control of his coal mines to his elder son. I like to keep my hand on the tiller. I’ve given my sons managerial positions but retained overall control of the mills. Unlike Quayle, I’m able to wear more than one hat at a time.’