Edward Marston - Timetable of Death

Responding to a nod from Colbeck, the doctor covered the body up again.

‘Can I ask you a question, Dr Hadlow?’ said Leeming. ‘You were involved when Enoch Stone was killed, weren’t you?’

‘Do we have to drag that case up again?’ protested Wigg.

‘You told us that the investigation was ongoing, Superintendent.’

‘Yes, but you’re not here to meddle in it. One murder is enough to keep you occupied, I fancy. Please confine yourself to that.’

‘We’re bound to wonder if there’s any link between the two killings.’

‘None at all,’ said Wigg. ‘Don’t you agree, Doctor Hadlow?’

‘On the face of it,’ replied the other, ‘I’d have to endorse your opinion. Stone was the victim of a brutal assault while Mr Quayle seems to have escaped violence. Then, of course, their stations in life were far apart. One came from humble stock while the other was extremely wealthy, if his attire is anything to judge by. I see no connection between the two crimes, Sergeant.’

‘Except the obvious one,’ added Colbeck. ‘Both men were killed in Spondon. Was that a bizarre coincidence?’

‘I don’t know, Inspector.’

‘I do,’ said Wigg, firmly. ‘Yes, it was a coincidence, so can we please forget Enoch Stone and concentrate our efforts on finding out who killed Mr Quayle?’

After plying the doctor with some more questions, Colbeck signalled to Leeming that it was time to leave and the two of them stepped out into the street. Since the superintendent stayed in the house for a few minutes, they were able to have a private conversation at long last.

‘What’s your feeling, Inspector?’

‘Wigg is an encumbrance.’

‘It’s a pity that he wasn’t found in that grave.’

‘Now, now, Victor, let’s not be vindictive.’

‘That’s what he is, sir. He reminds me of Superintendent Tallis.’

‘Oh, no,’ said Colbeck with a laugh. ‘You’re comparing a molehill to a mountain. Wigg doesn’t have the intelligence or the ruthlessness to replace our beloved superintendent.’

‘What’s our next step, sir?’

‘I think that we should take a walk around Spondon and get to know the geography of the village. I noticed some public houses on our way here. Keep a sharp eye out for any others.’

‘Why is that?’

‘It’s because you will have to choose between them.’

‘I don’t follow, sir.’

‘This crime was committed in Spondon but I’ll wager anything that its roots are a long way from here. Finding those roots is my job. That’s why I’ll use the hotel in Derby as my base. You, meanwhile, will be staying here in a local hostelry while you search for any clues and talk to potential witnesses.’

Leeming’s face fell. ‘Are you leaving me alone in this godforsaken wilderness?’

‘It strikes me as a rather nice place to live.’

‘Then why don’t you stay here?’

‘I’ll be dealing with the family of the deceased and looking more closely into Mr Quayle’s relationship with the Midland Railway. Don’t worry, Victor. I’m not cutting you adrift. We’ll spend the first night at the Royal Hotel then you can come here tomorrow morning. Spondon is only a few miles away from Derby.’

‘What exactly must I do here?’

‘Your first task will be to attend the funeral of Mrs Peet. The vicar did tell us that a lot of people were expected. Study them carefully,’ advised Colbeck. ‘The killer might well be among them.’

‘This is the reward notice, Mr Haygarth,’ Cope said, handing it over. ‘I’ve arranged for copies to be put up in Spondon itself and all over Derby.’

‘We must go further afield than that.’

‘We will do.’

‘A supply must be sent to Nottingham.’

‘That’s already in hand.’

‘This is good,’ said Donald Haygarth, examining the notice. ‘It’s clear and precise. A reward of two hundred pounds should be enough to encourage anyone with relevant information to come forward.’

‘I hope so, sir.’

Maurice Cope was a short, stringy, thin-faced man in his late thirties with a self-effacing manner and an eagerness to please. He’d worked at the head office of the Midland Railway since its formation and watched the internal battles on its board of directors attentively so that he could align himself with the more influential members. Impressed by Haygarth’s character and determination, he’d campaigned in secret on his behalf and was gratified that he was now working for the future chairman. There were, however, clouds on the horizon.

‘I should warn you that there have been rumblings,’ he said.

‘About what, may I ask?’

‘They’re about the size of the reward for a start, sir. Some people have complained that it’s far too high and that there should have been a board meeting in order to authorise it.’

‘Nonsense!’ exclaimed Haygarth with a dismissive gesture. ‘In a crisis such as we face, immediate action was called for. That’s why I took it upon myself to summon Inspector Colbeck and have these reward notices printed. If we’d had to wait days until members of the board could be brought together for discussion, we’d have lost all momentum.’

‘I agree, Mr Haygarth.’

‘ Someone had to step into the breach.’

‘You were the ideal person,’ said Cope, ingratiatingly, ‘and we are fortunate to have you. Inevitably, however, there has been criticism of the way that you took control of the situation.’

‘Mr Quayle and I were the only candidates for the chairmanship. When he was murdered it was only natural that I should assume the office.’

‘Thank goodness you did, sir.’

‘I wish that all my colleagues saw it that way.’

‘I’m sure that they’ll come to do so in time.’

They were in the headquarters of the Midland Railway, the place from which its complex network of services was controlled. Years earlier, Haygarth, the owner of some lucrative silk mills, had been persuaded to invest some of his substantial wealth in the company. In return, he was given a seat on the board of directors and immediately began to gather like-minded people around him. Intelligent, ambitious and politically adroit, he’d waited until a vacancy had occurred for the chairmanship then put himself forward. He’d been needled when the general preference seemed to be for Vivian Quayle.

‘Mr Quayle had many virtues,’ he said, ‘and I’ll be the first to admit that. He was industrious, far-sighted and wholly committed to the expansion of the Midland Railway. As a man, I admired him. As a future chairman, on the other hand, I had the gravest of reservations about him. In the present circumstances, those reservations are now quite irrelevant. We must bring his killer to justice and we must console his family in every way possible. In posting a large reward and in bringing the Railway Detective here, we are sending out a message that any enemies of this company will be swiftly hunted down.’

‘Your prompt action is to be commended, Mr Haygarth.’

‘I’ve given statements to the press and much of what I said will be included in the obituaries of Mr Quayle. He will be deservedly mourned. As for my critics,’ he went on, waving the poster in the air, ‘you may tell them that the costs of printing and distribution will not fall on the company. Along with the reward money, I will gladly pay them out of my own pocket.’

‘That’s extraordinarily generous of you, sir.’

‘I want my colleagues to know the sort of man that I am.’

‘They’ll be impressed. But there’s just one question I’d like to ask.’

‘What’s that?’

‘If the crime is solved by Inspector Colbeck, will he get the full reward of two hundred pounds?’