Edward Marston - Inspector Colbeck's Casebook

‘Where’s Mrs Gilkes?’ he asked.

‘She’s feeding the chickens,’ said Gilkes. ‘Why do you need to bother her?’

‘I just want to confirm something she said earlier, sir.’

‘Haven’t you asked her enough questions?’

‘I won’t keep her long.’ As Gilkes moved towards the door, Colbeck raised a hand. ‘Don’t bother, sir. I’ll find her.’

He went out, leaving Victor Leeming to face the hostile glares of the men.

Lizzie Gilkes had just finished feeding the chickens when Colbeck strode towards her. There was truculence in her tone.

‘What are you doing here, Inspector?’

‘I came to discuss your husband’s sleeping habits.’

‘I’m busy. I can’t talk now.’

‘And there’s another reason I came,’ said Colbeck, holding up the piece of cloth. ‘I came to return this. It came off the dress you were wearing last night.’

She bridled. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘I’m talking about the rendezvous you had with Jake Harnett in that stand of trees near the coal stage. It’s where I found the piece of cloth that he must have torn off your dress as you stabbed him in the chest.’ Her face blanched. ‘You were far too cool when we spoke earlier, Mrs Gilkes. You’d rehearsed what to say. But I saw you wielding that stick when you rounded up the cows. You’re a strong and determined woman. You could easily drag the body of a slight man like Harnett to the coal stage from that clearing.’

‘I was asleep all night behind my husband,’ she said, voice rising.

‘ He was asleep but you were awake. When you were certain that he’d slumber for hours, you slipped out and made for the station. It’s only ten minutes away. The sergeant and I timed the walk. You met Harnett, killed him, put the body in that truck, covered it with coal then came back here — all in well under half an hour.’

Lizzie backed slowly away towards the barn. Colbeck followed her.

‘You and Mr Harnett were close friends, weren’t you?’

‘No,’ she snarled. ‘I despised him.’

‘Then why did you agree to an assignation?’

‘I didn’t, Inspector. Jake wasn’t expecting me. He never looked twice at me when Rose was around.’ She was rancorous. ‘I’ve had to put up with years of seeing my sister get all the praise and attention. I’m the plain one, she’s the beauty. Jake took it too far.’

‘Mrs Brennan was fond of him, wasn’t she?’

‘She liked him a lot more than she liked that oaf of a husband. Rose let him write to her. When she replied, she begged me to deliver the letter. Can you imagine how painful that was for me?’ she wailed. ‘I was just a go-between. It was all I was good for and Jake rubbed it in. So I lied to him.’

‘Yes,’ said Colbeck, recreating the scene, ‘you told him that your sister would meet him last night but you went there instead. In the dark, he couldn’t tell the difference between you — until it was too late.’

‘I was doing it to save Rose,’ she said with passion. ‘Edgar would have beaten her black and blue if he’d realised what she was up to.’

‘That’s arrant nonsense. Don’t pretend that you thought of anyone else but yourself. You were jealous, Mrs Gilkes, jealous of your sister to the point where you couldn’t bear to see her enjoying a romance with a man nearer her age.’ He moved towards her. ‘Because you wanted Jake Harnett, you made sure that your sister would never have him.’ He beckoned her. ‘I shall have to place you under arrest.’

Lizzie was like a hunted animal, looking for a means of escape. Snatching up a hayfork leaning against the barn, she jabbed it at him. He stepped out of reach.

‘You’re ready to fight for your life,’ said Colbeck with feigned admiration. ‘I take my hat off to you, Mrs Gilkes.’

As he whisked the top hat from his head, he flung it in her face and distracted her long enough to duck under the fork and grapple with her. Colbeck twisted her wrist until she dropped her weapon then he tried to overpower her. But years of manual work had toughened her and she fought back hard, yelling obscenities and trying to bite him. It was no time for gentlemanly politeness. Lifting her bodily in one swift move, Colbeck carried her to the horse trough and dropped her into the water with a splash. Before she could begin to get out, he had the handcuffs on her.

When they caught the train back to Paddington, Lizzie Gilkes had been left in custody and her family had been left in a state of utter confusion. Victor Leeming was amazed that a woman had committed the murder and equally astounded at the way Colbeck had dropped her in the horse trough.

‘It’s not the sort of thing I’d expect you to do, sir,’ he said.

‘It worked, Victor. That’s all that matters.’

‘You should have called for me to help you.’

‘I managed on my own,’ said Colbeck. ‘Lizzie Gilkes was a desperate woman with a fire blazing inside her. I put it out by wetting the coal.’

Light rain was falling as the train clanked into Berkhamsted station and came to a halt in a cloud of smoke and steam. Anxious to set off again, the locomotive seemed to be throbbing with irritation. No passengers alighted from any of the carriages but two sturdy figures stepped out of the brake van and waited until the guard passed them an object that was only inches in depth but a yard in height and some four feet wide. It was wrapped up well. Although it was quite heavy, one man carried it without much difficulty. His companion walked beside him.

When they left the station, they saw the carriage waiting for them as arranged. A short, stout, middle-aged man with his hat pulled down over his face was standing beside the vehicle, beckoning them over. The couriers went across to him and eased their precious cargo into the carriage. The short man climbed in after it and shut the door behind him.

One of the couriers banged hard on the door.

‘Our orders are to see it delivered,’ he protested.

‘You’ve just done that,’ said the passenger, brusquely.

‘We must hand it over to Lord Stennard in person.’

‘Your work is finished.’

To emphasise the point, he produced a revolver and aimed it at each man in turn. They backed away in alarm. The driver cracked the whip and the two horses surged into action. Before the couriers could even move, the carriage gathered speed and disappeared around a bend. Somewhere behind them, the train was also on the move, belching smoke and spitting steam as it left the station in its wake. The couriers looked at each other in dismay. There would be awkward questions to answer.

Just when Colbeck thought that he knew everything there was to know about Edward Tallis, the superintendent surprised him by revealing himself as an unlikely art lover. Seated behind his desk, Tallis told the inspector about the daring theft.

‘We must get that painting back,’ he insisted.

‘I didn’t realise that you were one of Turner’s admirers, sir.’

‘What I admire is British genius and Turner certainly had his share of that. I’ve no time for the fanciful daubing of foreign painters — especially those purveyors of French decadence — but I do enjoy looking at the work of our home-grown artists.’

‘I appreciate good art from whatever country it comes,’ said Colbeck.

‘Then you need to be both more discriminating and more patriotic. However,’ Tallis went on, ‘we are wasting valuable time. Lord Stennard wants that stolen painting retrieved as soon as possible. Question the couriers.’

‘Do you have an address for them, sir?’

‘They’re right here at Scotland Yard.’