Edward Marston - Inspector Colbeck's Casebook

‘You didn’t know Harnett.’

‘Did he bother your wife?’

‘No, he didn’t,’ she said, sharply.

‘But he bothered my sister-in-law, Rose,’ said Gilkes. ‘He cornered her one day and I had to rescue her. I gave the little bastard a flea in his ear. Edgar did the same — that’s Rose’s husband.’

‘We’ve met Mr Brennan,’ explained Colbeck. ‘We had the feeling that he would not be sending a wreath to the funeral.’ Gilkes gave a harsh laugh. ‘It’s not a laughing matter, sir. You are, after all, a suspect.’

‘It was nothing to do with me!’ protested Gilkes.

‘I told you that, Inspector,’ said Lizzie, hotly.

‘Nevertheless,’ said Colbeck, ‘we’re bound to take the threat made to Mr Harnett seriously. Your husband is like Mr Brennan. My guess is that neither of them minced their words.’

‘You’re quite right there,’ agreed Gilkes. ‘I told that slimy porter to …’

He was silenced when his wife put a hand on his arm. She took over.

‘I can see how it looks to you, Inspector,’ she said with a conciliatory nod, ‘and I don’t blame you. Tom and Edgar had to speak to Jake Harnett but that’s all they did. Edgar is no killer and I’d swear on my mother’s grave that Tom didn’t murder Harnett. Yes, it’s only fair that they’re suspects, I suppose, but you’ll have to look elsewhere for the person you want.’

‘I accept that,’ said Colbeck, graciously. ‘One last question, if I may. Why did your sister marry a much older man?’

‘Edgar’s first wife died,’ said Gilkes, sadly. ‘She was trampled to death when she tried to stop a runaway horse. She was with child at the time. It was a tragedy.’

‘That’s why my sister did it,’ said Lizzie. ‘She took pity on him.’

May Tranter was a plump, grey-haired woman in her fifties with a local accent. When she heard that her lodger had been murdered, she was so overwhelmed with horror that she collapsed into Leeming’s arms. He eased her into a chair. It was minutes before she was able to speak.

‘What was Mr Harnett like?’ prompted Colbeck.

‘Oh, he was a delight to have around the house,’ she said. ‘We treated him like the son we never had. He always had a smile on his face.’

‘Did he have any enemies, Mrs Tranter?’

‘Dear me! No, he didn’t! Who could dislike Jake?’

‘Someone obviously did,’ murmured Leeming.

‘They teased him at the station but that was only because he was so handsome. I think they were all jealous. Jake was a good, kind, hard-working man. He was always ready to help us. My husband was a platelayer till someone was careless with his pickaxe,’ she told them. ‘He’s never been able to walk proper since. Jake used to do the things that Eric just couldn’t do any more.’

‘He sounds like an ideal lodger,’ said Colbeck.

‘He was, Inspector — in every way.’

‘Was there a young lady in his life?’

‘There must have been. A man with such good looks is bound to make hearts flutter.’ She gave a girlish laugh. ‘I know that mine did. Not in an improper way,’ she added, quickly. ‘I just felt … motherly towards him.’

‘Did he go out often?’

‘Yes, he went for a walk most evenings.’

‘Are you sure that it was only a walk?’

She frowned. ‘It wasn’t my place to pry, Inspector.’

‘What time did he go out yesterday evening?’ asked Leeming.

‘It was quite late, Sergeant. Eric and I were just about to go to bed.’

‘Did he tell you where he was going?’

‘He was off on one of his walks. Jake looked so smart, especially when he was wearing his uniform at work. He always took pains with his appearance.’ She grabbed Colbeck’s shoulder to plead with him. ‘You will catch the man who did this to him, won’t you?’

‘The killer will soon be arrested, Mrs Tranter,’ said Colbeck, confidently. ‘I can guarantee it.’

‘Where are we going?’ asked Leeming as they headed for the railway station.

‘We’re going to retrace Harnett’s footsteps.’

‘Are we off to the coal stage, then?’

‘No,’ said Colbeck, ‘because that isn’t where he went.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Put yourself in his position, Victor. You’re a young man on his way to an assignation. When you’re wearing your best clothes, you’d never go anywhere near dirt and dust. I’ve been to the coal stage,’ Colbeck reminded him, ‘and it is markedly deficient in romance. It would cool any man’s ardour.’

‘So where did Harnett go?’

‘It was somewhere not too far away, I suspect.’

‘Ah,’ said Leeming, reading his mind. ‘I realise what you mean now, sir. Harnett arranged a rendezvous with a young lady but her husband found out about it and came in her stead — or he simply followed her. Whichever way it happened, he killed Harnett and carried his body to that truck.’

‘That’s why it can’t have been too far away.’

‘Why not leave the body where it fell?’

‘I think that someone resented that handsome face and that smart suit. They wanted to besmirch the immaculate porter. Squeezing him into a small tub was a final humiliation for him.’

When they reached the coal stage, Colbeck looked in all directions. His gaze settled on a stand of trees nearby. They’d offer protection from the wind and a degree of privacy. Leeming, meanwhile, was studying the bunker.

‘Does the fireman have to shovel all that coal into the tubs?’

‘Yes, Victor, it’s dirty work. Would it interest you?’

‘No job on the railways interests me, sir.’

Colbeck laughed. ‘Not even being a detective?’

He walked towards the trees with Leeming at his heels. They split up to look for clues that might indicate a struggle had taken place. Colbeck searched for the place most suitable for an assignation. He found it at the very heart of the copse. It was a clearing overhung with branches that made it feel enclosed and secretive. Colbeck was certain that he’d found Jake Harnett’s lair. Working systematically, he went from tree to tree, examining the ground beside each of them with care. It was slow, painstaking work but he was rewarded with the thrill of discovery.

‘Victor!’ he called out.

‘I’m coming,’ said the other, blundering through the undergrowth and into the clearing. Seeing what Colbeck held up, he was disappointed. ‘It’s only a piece of cloth.’

‘Oh, I think it may turn out to be a useful clue.’

Leeming was baffled. ‘Why are you grinning like that?’

They were not the only visitors to Greenacres Farm. Edgar and Rose Brennan had got there before them. They were in the parlour with Tom Gilkes. At the sight of the two detectives, the farmers became combative. Brennan took a step towards them.

‘How many times must I tell you?’ he demanded. ‘I did not kill Harnett.’

‘Neither did I,’ said Gilkes, arms akimbo.

‘Stop pestering us, Inspector.’

‘Jake Harnett was a menace to women. He deserved what he got.’

Leeming wagged a finger. ‘That’s a very cruel thing to say.’

‘Don’t ask for an apology,’ warned Brennan.

‘What about you, Mrs Brennan?’ asked Colbeck, turning to her. ‘Do you take the same view as your husband and your brother-in-law?’

‘No, I don’t,’ she whispered, lowering her head.

‘Yes, you do, Rose,’ scolded her husband.

‘You were the one he pestered most,’ said Gilkes.

Rose looked up. ‘What happened to him was … very wrong.’

She burst into tears. Revealingly, it was Tom Gilkes who put a consoling arm around her. Edgar Brennan looked distantly embarrassed. Colbeck felt that he would take his wife to task when they were alone together. Leeming was eyeing the two men, trying to work out which of them had put an end to the porter’s life. Colbeck’s interest, however, had shifted to an entirely new suspect.