Edward Marston - Railway to the Grave

‘Did you see any guilt in his face?’ he asked.

‘I didn’t see a thing with that beard of his, sir. It just about covers everything. He looks like a large dog staring through a bush.’

‘What was your feeling?’

‘He was uneasy,’ said Leeming, ‘and that set me thinking. I wondered if Hepworth had also been sending the colonel some nasty, unwanted mail. Do you think we should challenge him about it?’

‘There’d be no point, Victor. He’d only deny it. Mrs Withers was told to burn the earlier letters so the evidence has gone up in smoke. However,’ Colbeck said, thoughtfully, ‘there may be another way to find out the truth. Let’s bear the egregious fellow in mind, shall we?’

‘I do my best to forget him, sir.’

Leeming recounted his meeting with Kinchin and bewailed the fact that it had not provided the breakthrough for which he’d hoped.

Colbeck listened without interruption and made a mental note of the date when the colonel had abruptly ceased to visit Doncaster. He then went off into a trance for a few minutes. Leeming wondered if anything was wrong with him. Eventually, he tapped the inspector on the arm.

‘Excuse me, sir.’

‘Oh,’ said Colbeck as if waking up. ‘I left you for a while. I’m sorry about that. There was something I was trying to remember.’

‘And did you recall it?’

‘Yes, I did. It made me think that, in retrospect, Mr Kinchin’s visit may not have been as unprofitable as you feared.’

‘He told me nothing of real use, sir.’

‘Yes, he did. You learnt that the colonel loved brass bands.’

‘What use is that?’

‘Well, it’s something the superintendent didn’t know about him and he was the colonel’s close friend. He didn’t tell Mr Tallis because he was aware – as we both are – that the superintendent hates music of all kinds. The only instrument for which he has the slightest time,’ said Colbeck, ‘is a church organ. The prospect of a brass band would probably make him run for cover.’

Leeming laughed. ‘I’d love to see him doing that.’

‘What you confirmed is what we’ve already found out – namely, that the colonel was very guarded.’

‘He seems to have told Mr Kinchin nothing about his home life.’

‘Their only point of contact was a brass band.’

‘It’s a very good one, I’m told,’ said Leeming. ‘Not that it matters. I just felt rather embarrassed at having dragged Mr Kinchin all the way from Doncaster on a fool’s errand.’

‘But it wasn’t a fool’s errand. Without realising it, the gentleman gave us a golden nugget.’

‘Did he?’ Leeming was perplexed. ‘I didn’t see any nugget.’

‘The date, Victor,’ said Colbeck. ‘He gave us a vital date.’

‘That’s news to me, sir.’

‘Wait until tomorrow and all will be explained. If I ask him about it when he’s off duty, so to speak, I can catch him unawares. I may get the truth out of him.’

‘Who are you talking about?’

‘I’m talking about the colonel’s banker – Bertram Reader.’

When she finally came downstairs that morning, Agnes Reader moved unsteadily and held onto the banister for support. She was in full mourning wear and had pulled down her veil to obscure her tears. Her husband was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.

‘How do you feel now, Agnes?’ he asked, taking her hand.

‘I feel a little queasy.’

‘You don’t have to go, you know. I can represent both of us.’

‘I have to be there,’ she insisted. ‘What would the family think if I didn’t turn up at the service?’

‘But it will be such an ordeal for you.’

‘It will be an ordeal for all of us, Bertram.’

He nodded sadly and released her hand. She lifted her veil so that she could see herself properly in the hall mirror. After making a few adjustments to her clothing, she lowered the veil again.

‘I’m not looking forward to this,’ she confessed.

‘Neither am I,’ he said, ‘though I’ll be interested to hear what happened at the rectory last evening. Inspector Colbeck went off to question the rector about that letter.’

‘I still can’t believe that Mrs Skelton wrote it.’

‘The handwriting was identical to that on the card. Thanks to your kindness in providing those flowers, two guilty people have been exposed. Not that we ought to talk about it in public, my dear,’ he warned. ‘The inspector was very firm on that point. People are coming to the church to honour Aubrey and Miriam. We don’t want them distracted by rumours about a poison-pen letter sent from the rectory. That would really blight the whole service.’

‘I won’t say a word,’ she murmured.

‘Then promise me something else as well. If you have a change of heart on the way, it’s never too late to turn back.’

‘That won’t happen, Bertram.’

‘The option is always there,’ he said. ‘My concern is that the service will stir up too many emotions for you.’

‘I’ll pull through somehow.’

‘It will be worse for Eve, of course, because she’s lost two beloved parents. I’d like to say the same of Adam,’ he went on, ‘but we’d look in vain for any genuine sorrow there. The best that we can hope of him is that he turns up and behaves himself.’

‘Adam will surely have been sobered by what happened.’

‘Well, there’s no hint of it so far, Agnes. After he’d been in the town to identify his mother’s body, he called on Clifford Everett and more or less demanded to know what his inheritance would be. As a good lawyer should,’ he said, ‘Clifford told him that he was unable to disclose any details of the wills. He’s bracing himself for another clash with Adam when he attends the service today.’

‘I see.’

Reader opened the front door and let in a breeze that made his wife’s veil dance before her eyes. When he offered his arm, she didn’t take it. Instead she stayed where she was, surveying the outside world with trepidation as if not knowing whether to venture out or not.

He was solicitous. ‘Is something wrong, my dear?’

‘No, no,’ she replied, mustering all her strength. ‘Don’t worry about me, Bertram. I’m fine now.’

Taking his arm, she walked towards the waiting trap.

To make sure that the rector abided by his orders, Colbeck got to the church early with Leeming in tow. They saw a knot of people in the middle of the churchyard and went over to them. The stone cross lay on the ground, its impact so strong that it had bitten deeply into the grass. Colbeck noted the inscription on the plinth.

‘It’s an act of God,’ said one woman. ‘It’s because it was put here by the colonel.’

‘Aye,’ said another, ‘God has sent us a message.’

‘I think that you’ll find that God confines his messages to the inside of the church,’ said Colbeck. ‘This was done by a human being. It was a deliberate act of vandalism.’

‘Clearly, someone doesn’t like the colonel,’ said Leeming. ‘It would have needed a strong man to pull that down, Inspector.’

‘He used a rope. Look – you can see the marks here.’ Colbeck pointed to some nicks in the stone. ‘There must have been two of them.’ He explored the ground nearby and saw hoof prints. ‘I was right, Victor, there were two of them – a man and a horse. This is where the animal stood when it took the strain.’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Leeming, standing beside him. ‘The prints are deeper here where the horse dug in its hooves as it heaved.’

‘This must have been done at night. When I went past here yesterday evening, the cross was upright. I remember seeing it.’

‘At least it wasn’t broken in the fall.’

‘No,’ said Colbeck, ‘but it’s already attracting far too much attention. I don’t want the Tarleton family to see this. Let’s put it back where it belongs.’