Edward Marston - The excursion train

When she opened the door to him, he discovered that Kathleen Brennan was a woman in her twenties with a raw beauty that was set off by her long red hair and a pair of startling green eyes. Even in her working dress, she looked shapely. She put her hands on her hips.

'Yes?' she asked with a soft Irish lilt.

'Miss Kathleen Brennan?'

'Mrs Brennan.'

'I beg your pardon. My name is Detective Sergeant Leeming,' he told her, showing her his warrant card, 'and I'd like to ask you a few questions, if I may.'

'Why?'

'It's in connection with the murder of Joseph Dykes. May I come in for a moment, please?'

'We can talk here,' she said, folding her arms.

'As you wish, Mrs Brennan. You signed a petition, I believe.'

'That's right.'

'Do you mind telling me why?'

'Because I knew that Nathan Hawkshaw was innocent.'

'How?'

'I just did,' she said as if insulted by the question. 'I met him a lot in Ashford. He was a nice man. Nathan was no killer.'

'Were you at that fair in Lenham, by any chance?'

'Yes, I was.'

'And did you witness the argument between the two men?'

'We all did,' she replied. 'It took place in the middle of the square. They might have come to blows if Gregory hadn't stopped them.'

'Gregory Newman?'

'He was Nathan's best friend. He pulled him away and tried to talk sense into him. Gregory told him to go home.'

'But he came back, didn't he?'

'So they say.'

'And he was seen very close to where the murder took place.'

'I know nothing of that, Sergeant,' she said, brusquely. 'But I still believe that they hanged the wrong man.'

'Have you any idea who the killer might be?'

'None at all.'

'But you were shocked when Hawkshaw was found guilty?'

'Yes, I was.'

'Did you go to the execution?'

'Why are you asking me that?' she challenged. 'And why did you come here in the first place? That case is over and done with.'

'If only it were, Mrs Brennan,' said Leeming, 'but it's had so many tragic consequences. That's why Inspector Colbeck and I are looking into it again. Your name came to our attention.'

'I can't help you,' she said, curtly.

'I get the feeling that you don't want to help me.'

Leeming met her gaze. Kathleen Brennan's manner verged on the hostile and he could not understand what provocation he had given her. Without quite knowing why, he was unsettled by her. There was something about the woman that made him feel, if not threatened, then a trifle disturbed. Leeming was glad that they were conversing in the open air and not in the privacy of her cottage.

'You haven't told me if you attended the execution.'

'And I'm not going to.'

'Are you ashamed that you went?'

'I didn't say that I did.'

'But you felt sorry for Nathan Hawkshaw?'

'We all did – that's why Gregory got the petition together.'

'Was he the person who asked you to sign?'

'No,' she said, 'it was Nathan's wife.'

'Did you simply put your name on that list out of friendship?'

Anger showed in her face. 'No, I didn't! You've got no call to ask me that, Sergeant. I did what I believed was right and so did the others. We wanted to save Nathan.'

'Yet you had no actual proof that he was innocent.'

Kathleen Brennan's eyes glinted and she breathed hard through her nose. Leeming could see that his questions had inflamed her. She stepped forward and pulled the door shut behind her.

'I've got to go to work,' she said.

'Then I won't stop you, Mrs Brennan. Thank you for your help.'

'Nathan Hawkshaw was a good man, Sergeant.'

'That's what everyone says.'

'Try listening to them.'

She walked abruptly past him and headed across the field towards the farmhouse on the ridge. Leeming was nonplussed, unsure whether his visit had been pointless or whether he had stumbled on something of interest and significance. As he trudged back to the station, he wondered why Kathleen Brennan had made him so uneasy. It was only when, after a lengthy wait, he caught the return train to Ashford that he realised exactly what it was.

There was an additional surprise for him. As the train chugged merrily along the line, he looked absent-mindedly through the window and saw something that made him sit up and stare. A young woman was riding a horse along the road at a steady canter, her red hair blowing in the wind. The person who had told him that she had to go to work was now riding with some urgency towards Ashford.

Inspector Colbeck was so intrigued by what he had learnt from his meeting with emily Hawkshaw that he took himself to a wooden bench near St Mary's Church and sat down to think. The square tower soared above him and he looked up at it with misgiving, certain that, if the girl really had committed suicide, then the full truth about the murder of Jospeh Dykes would never be known. Emily was young, immature and in a fragile state but he could not excuse her on those grounds. In the light of what he had discovered, he simply had to talk to her again.

Winifred Hawkshaw was unhappy with the idea. When he returned to the shop after long cogitation, she became very protective.

'Emily needs to be left alone,' she claimed. 'It's the only way that she'll ever get over this.'

'I disagree, Mrs Hawkshaw,' said Colbeck. 'As long as she feels such a sense of guilt, there's always the possibility that she'll attempt to take her own life again – and I may not be on hand next time.'

'My daughter has nothing to feel guilty about, Inspector.'

'Is that what she's told you?'

'No,' admitted Winifred. 'She's told me precious little.'

'That in itself is an indication of guilt. If she's unable to confide in the person closest to her, what kind of secret is she hiding? Whatever it is, it won't let her rest. I simply must see her again,' insisted Colbeck, 'and this time, you must leave us alone together.'

'I couldn't do that.'

'I won't get the truth out of her with her mother there.'

'Why not?'

'Because I believe that it concerns you.'

Winifred Hawkshaw was discomfited. It took time to persuade her to summon her daughter but she eventually acceded to his request. There was an even longer delay as she argued with Emily then more or less forced her daughter to come downstairs. The girl was sullen and withdrawn when she came into the room. She refused to sit down.

'Very well,' said Colbeck, settling into a chair, 'you can stand up. I think that you know why I've come back again, don't you?'

'No.'

'I want the full story, Emily. And let me assure you of one thing. Whatever you tell me is in strictest confidence. I'm not going to pass it on to anyone – not even to your mother. She's the one person who must never know, isn't she? At least, that's what you think now.'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'I think you do, Emily. Did your father commit that murder?'

'No!' she retorted.

'Would you swear to that?'

'On the Bible.'

'But would you confess why you're so certain about it?' asked Colbeck, lowering his voice. 'No, you wouldn't, would you? Because you had a chance to do just that at the trial.' Emily's cheeks were drained of what little colour they possessed. 'The reason you know that he could not possibly have killed Joseph Dykes is that you were with your father at the time.'

'That's not true!' she cried.

'Except that you never saw him as your real father, did you? He was kind to you. He protected you from Adam. He was your friend.' The girl let out a gasp of horror at being found out. 'You loved him as a friend, didn't you, Emily? There's no question that he loved you. Nathan Hawkshaw went to the gallows rather than betray you.'

'Stop!' she implored.

'It has to come out, Emily,' he told her, getting up to stand beside the girl. 'The truth is a poison that must be sucked out of you before it kills you. I'm not here to judge you or to tell you that what you did was wrong. All I want to do is to find the man who did kill Joseph Dykes then went on to murder two other people. Did your mother tell you what happened yesterday evening?'