Points of Danger Page 12

  ‘He can’t compete with the inspector. The stationmaster reckons that Colbeck has got an amazing brain and Ned Grigson is a good judge.’ He sipped his tea noisily. ‘Do you think they will solve the murder?’

  ‘I hope so, Eric, because one thing is certain. If they don’t, nobody else will. I thought that we could handle this case on our own but it’s turning out to be far too complicated for us. We don’t have the experience or enough men.’

  ‘All our hopes rest with Colbeck and Leeming.’

  Victor Leeming tapped on the door and was invited to enter the room with a voice that sounded eerily hospitable. Tallis was seated behind the desk, pulling on a cigar before sending fresh wreaths of smoke up into the air. His visitor had difficulty at first making him out in the fug.

  ‘Who are you?’ asked Tallis.

  ‘It’s Sergeant Leeming, sir.’

  ‘What, in heaven’s name, are you doing here, man? You should be in Norwich with Colbeck.’

  ‘The inspector wanted you to see his latest report, sir, so I brought it in person.’ He placed it on the desk. ‘It’s very detailed. He told me to wait until you’d read it and given your reaction.’

  ‘How reliable is it?’

  ‘The inspector’s reports are always strictly factual, sir.’

  ‘But he has a cunning way of juggling the facts to obscure his lack of progress in an investigation. I hope that’s not the case here.’

  ‘He’d never think of doing such a thing,’ asserted Leeming.

  ‘Let me see.’

  Placing his cigar in the ashtray, Tallis picked up the report and held it close to his face. He seemed to be reading it at first then it became clear to Leeming that the superintendent’s eyes were trained on the same line. They never moved. Holding five pages in his hand, he only looked at the first one. There was a long, embarrassing pause. Leeming waited until his patience eventually ran out. He leant forward to touch the other man’s shoulder with a gentle hand.

  ‘Is anything wrong, sir?’ he asked. There was no reply. ‘Would you like me to read it to you?’

  Tallis looked up. ‘Who are you and why are you here?’

  ‘I’m Sergeant Leeming and I’ve just brought that report.’

  ‘Then stop staring at me as if you’ve seen a ghost.’

  But that was exactly what Leeming was doing, looking sadly at the spectre of Edward Tallis. This was not the irascible man who’d terrorised him throughout his career as a detective. It was nothing but a sad, pale, lifeless substitute. Instead of scouring each line of the report, he couldn’t read a single word. It was painful to watch. Uncertain what he should do, Leeming backed slowly away and made for the door. He was about to leave when he was stopped by an urgent plea.

  ‘Don’t mention this to anyone, will you?’ said Tallis, hoarsely. ‘I get a little dizzy now and then, that’s all. I’m fully recovered now. You can tell Colbeck that I found his report crisp, concise and informative.’

  ‘I will, sir.’

  ‘Give him my regards.’

  ‘Goodbye, sir.’

  Leeming left the office with tears in his eyes.

  Andrew Swarbrick was too well prepared. It was as if he’d sat down and made a list of all the questions likely to be put to him and worked out his answers. Colbeck was irritated by his smugness. In the end, he abandoned his line of questioning and became more personal.

  ‘Why did you come here?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m the man of the house now.’

  ‘But you turned your back on this place in disgust.’

  ‘I had good cause.’

  ‘That’s a matter of opinion, sir. I would have thought that your duty to your father would have made you show more tolerance.’

  ‘I am not tolerating that interloper up there,’ snapped the other, pointing to the ceiling. ‘She inveigled herself into my father’s life and came close to destroying our family.’

  ‘I really can’t believe that,’ said Colbeck. ‘Having met her, I’d never describe her as the wicked stepmother you seem to think she is.’

  ‘That’s because you don’t know how manipulative she can be.’

  ‘Mrs Freed told me how gentle and undemanding she is.’

  ‘That woman always thinks the best of people but even she was surprised by the speed with which my father remarried.’

  ‘I hear that it was not exactly a lavish wedding.’

  ‘It was a disgraceful affair, inspector.’

  ‘But I understood that you refused to attend it.’

  ‘I spoke to some of the few people who did,’ said Swarbrick, scornfully. ‘It was a hurried, uneventful, hole-in-the-corner marriage ceremony because, I believe, my father was secretly ashamed of it.’

  ‘Is that what he told you?’

  ‘Not in so many words.’

  ‘Mrs Freed said that they were extremely happy together.’

  ‘She didn’t know my father as well as I did.’

  ‘But she saw him and his second wife together on many occasions,’ said Colbeck, ‘and so did Mr Freed. He is also very fond of your stepmother.’

  ‘That’s because she knows how to deceive men like him.’

  ‘We’re talking about two different people here, Mr Swarbrick. You’re telling me about someone who is cold, scheming and evil, whereas the person I’ve met is weak, defenceless and devastated by the murder of her husband. One of us is misled,’ said Colbeck. ‘At the very least, I’d have thought you could understand how terrible it must have been for her to be so dangerously close to your father when he was shot.’

  ‘My sympathy is in short supply,’ said Andrew, bluntly.

  ‘Why do you detest your stepmother so much?’

  ‘She tricked my father into marriage.’

  ‘Come now,’ said Colbeck, glancing up at the portrait. ‘Mr Swarbrick doesn’t look to me as if he’d allow anyone to trick him into something against his will. Look at him. The artist has confirmed what everyone has told me about Mr Swarbrick. He was strong, single-minded and decisive. Do you deny that, sir?’

  ‘No, he was all of those things – until he met her.’

  Colbeck changed tack. ‘Mr Freed told me about the visit you made to him yesterday.’

  ‘Why bother about me?’ said Swarbrick, petulantly. ‘I didn’t kill my father. You should be out there hunting for the heartless villain who did.’

  ‘Apparently, he achieved the small miracle of wresting an apology from you. I’ve spent several years dealing with bereaved families, sir, and I’ve never met anyone less inclined to grieve over a murder victim.’

  ‘I’m far too angry to grieve, inspector.’

  ‘When will that anger finally disappear?’

  ‘It will only happen when I’ve attained my twin objectives.’

  ‘And what are they, sir?’

  ‘The first is to harry you into solving this crime so that my father’s death can be avenged on the scaffold.’

  ‘What about the second objective?’

  ‘It will be equally satisfying, inspector,’ said Swarbrick with a malevolent grin. ‘I’m going to throw my stepmother out of our house and family for good.’

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Detective Constable Alan Hinton was difficult to find at first. Leeming had to pick his way through a series of corridors at Scotland Yard before he ran him to earth. The two men adjourned to Colbeck’s office, confident that they wouldn’t be interrupted. Hinton was touched that his plea for help had produced such an immediate effect.

  ‘I never expected you to come in person,’ he said.

  ‘It was either me or the inspector and he’s needed in Norwich to lead the investigation.’

  ‘Have you made any headway?’

  ‘We’re inching forward,’ said Leeming. ‘It’s always slow going in the early stages. I brought a report for the superintendent so that I had an excuse to see for myself what state he was in.’

  ‘How did you find him?’

  ‘It was
very upsetting.’

  Leeming told him about his brief visit to Tallis and admitted that he’d been moved to tears by the experience. In return, Hinton recalled what had happened earlier when he met the superintendent on his way to Scotland Yard.

  ‘He didn’t even know who he was, Sergeant.’

  ‘I don’t know who I am sometimes,’ said Leeming with a grin, ‘but that’s usually because I’ve had too much to drink. That’s one thing we can’t accuse the superintendent of,’ he added, ‘because he’s always stone-cold sober when he’s here.’

  ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘I wish I knew.’

  ‘There’s nobody else I can confide in here. People are either too busy to pay any attention or, if they do listen, they tell me to forget all about it. They say that the superintendent will soon snap out of it.’

  ‘I don’t believe that,’ said Leeming, gloomily.

  ‘What was inspector Colbeck’s view?’

  ‘He thinks that the superintendent needs a complete break.’

  ‘We’d never get him to leave Scotland Yard.’

  ‘If he can’t do his job properly, he’ll have to leave it.’

  ‘What are we supposed to do?’

  ‘Well,’ said Leeming, ‘if it gets any worse, it will have to be brought to the attention of the commissioner. In the meantime, the inspector has a suggestion.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Tallis must be persuaded to take a holiday.’

  ‘But where could he go?’ asked Hinton. ‘He doesn’t have a family and there’s nobody here who’d take him in. The superintendent has made a virtue of living alone.’

  ‘I know. It’s very sad.’

  ‘Scotland Yard means everything to him. That’s why he’s devoted his life to it. He spends more time here than anywhere else.’

  ‘It was pathetic,’ recalled Leeming. ‘When he realised that he’d given himself away in front of me, he begged me not to tell anyone.’

  ‘He did the same to me. The truth is that he needs medical help.’

  ‘If his mind is crumbling, we know what that means. He’d have to go into a mental hospital and I wouldn’t wish that on anybody. We saw inside one of those places during an investigation in Devon.’ He pursed his lips. ‘It was grim.’

  ‘What’s the alternative?’ asked Hinton.

  ‘Inspector Colbeck may have the answer. Do you remember that friend of the superintendent’s?’

  ‘Captain Wardlow?’

  ‘Yes, that’s him. They were in the same regiment. The captain is the one person that he actually seems to like. What happened during the abduction in Kent brought them closer together. If the captain knew the state that his friend is in, I’m sure he’d come to his aid.’

  ‘That’s an excellent idea,’ declared Hinton, smiling for the first time that morning. ‘As soon as I come off duty, I’ll take the next train to Canterbury.’

  ‘Captain Wardlow will know what to do,’ said Leeming, ‘and he has a big advantage over you and me. The superintendent would actually listen to him.’

  Seated in his office, Cecil Freed felt beleaguered. Since Colbeck was proving elusive, reporters turned their attention to the chairman of the ECR, popping up when least expected and demanding a statement about the investigation. The company had an unhappy relationship with the press because it had reported its multiple imperfections over the years, mocking its failures with glee. When one of the ECR’s goods trains left the line and scattered vast quantities of coal over the countryside, Freed had even endured the misery of being caricatured in Punch, a magazine that allowed its readers to shake with laughter at the company’s expense. While his distrust of reporters was absolute, the chairman still felt obliged to feed them with some information. Otherwise, he claimed, they would make it up.

  Hearing his secretary enter, he feared that yet another newspaper was trying to corner him. In fact, his visitor turned out to be Colbeck. The overwhelming sense of relief made Freed leap up from his seat and pump the inspector’s hand in gratitude.

  ‘Thank goodness it’s only you,’ he said.

  ‘I’m not sure that I’m flattered by the use of the word “only”, Mr Freed,’ teased the newcomer. ‘It robs me of what little importance I actually have.’

  ‘In my view, you’re the most important person in East Anglia.’

  ‘Let’s not resort to hyperbole, sir.’

  ‘I mean it, inspector. I’m relying on you to solve the murder and take the ECR off the front pages of every newspaper.’

  ‘You can satisfy the second desire on your own account. When you and the other companies merge to form the Great Eastern Railway, the ECR will vanish instantly. It will simply become a footnote in history.’

  ‘Take a seat, inspector. May I offer you refreshment?’

  ‘No, thank you,’ said Colbeck, sitting down.

  ‘Is there any news to report?’

  ‘I’ve just had a long chat with Andrew Swarbrick.’

  ‘In that case, he’ll have done most of the talking.’

  ‘Quite right – was his father quite so assertive?’

  ‘Jarvis liked to hear the sound of his own voice but, since I agreed with almost everything he said, it was a very sweet sound.’

  ‘The son’s voice is singularly lacking in sweetness,’ said Colbeck. ‘In fact, sweetness of any kind is an alien concept to him. He puzzles me. On the face of it, he’s exactly what I’d expect of a banker, but there’s a streak of fury in him that would never be tolerated at a board meeting.’

  ‘Andrew keeps it well concealed at work.’

  ‘He can’t control it here. As soon as he’s close to his stepmother, the bile starts to gush from him. Why should that be, Mr Freed? You and your wife assured me that Mrs Swarbrick is a charming lady in every way, yet her stepson abhors her.’

  ‘Snobbery comes into it, I fear. He looks down on her. Andrew believes her family is too inferior to be linked to his own.’

  ‘You must have met members of it at the wedding?’

  ‘We met the few who were invited. I’ve never known such a deliberately muted occasion. Jarvis didn’t want any fuss.’

  ‘That seems at variance with his character.’

  ‘It was,’ said Freed. ‘As a rule, he relished major events if he was to be at the centre of them. Hundreds of guests attended his first wedding. We were among them. At the second one, there was far less sense of occasion.’

  ‘Was that Mr Swarbrick’s decision?’

  ‘Oh, yes. There’s no question about that, inspector.’

  ‘What happened when his son stayed away in protest?’

  ‘There was bad blood between Andrew and his father for a while.’

  ‘It still exists between him and his stepmother. You’d expect the murder to bring them closer together, strengthening the bond.’

  ‘It’s driven them further apart than ever,’ said Freed. ‘That’s why my wife feels that she needs to be there on sentry duty. How long she has to do that is anybody’s guess. However,’ he continued, ‘that’s not your concern. All your energies are directed at the investigation.’

  ‘That’s true, sir. My next port of call will be the station. I have to speak to Mr Grigson, the stationmaster. He’s providing me with a list of staff and anyone else familiar with the operation of the station. We’ve been through the names of those currently employed there but I’d like to know more about those who left the ECR in the recent past. This crime was made possible by the switching of some points,’ said Colbeck. ‘The person responsible either works there or has done so.’

  ‘Grigson is very thorough.’

  ‘I’ve already found that out.’

  ‘Have you had much help from the railway police?’

  ‘Yes, sir – Sergeant Duff is cracking the whip over them.’

  The London train was due very shortly and the platform was crowded. Bartram Duff bided his time until he saw the figure of a short, lean, middle-aged man join
the other passengers. Taking something from his pocket, Duff stepped forward to mingle with the crowd. When the newcomer brushed past him, Duff slipped something into his hand. It happened so quickly and deftly that nobody saw a thing. While the railway policeman went back on duty, the man headed back to the exit and disappeared from the station altogether.

  Lydia Quayle arrived at the house to find Madeleine in high spirits. Her friend had not only received an unexpected letter from her husband, she had encouragement from him to accept the commission she was offered. Lydia was pleased for her.

  ‘How could he reply so quickly to your letter when he could only have seen it this morning?’

  ‘Victor Leeming delivered it by hand.’

  Lydia was surprised. ‘He’s back in London?’

  ‘Indirectly,’ said Madeleine, ‘that was Constable Hinton’s doing. His worries about the superintendent prompted Robert to act. He sent the sergeant to Scotland Yard with a report and orders that he should seek out Constable Hinton as a matter of urgency. The two of them discussed the superintendent’s condition.’

  ‘What did they decide?’

  Madeleine told her what she herself had been told. While she felt sorry for the superintendent, Lydia was more interested in what Hinton had said and done. She pressed her friend for every detail. When she heard about the plan to go to Kent, she was very much in favour of it.

  ‘How clever it was of Alan to think of Captain Wardlow.’

  ‘Actually, it was Robert’s idea.’

  ‘But he’s not here to do anything about it, is he? Constable Hinton is and was quick to volunteer. I admire him for that, Madeleine.’

  Her friend smiled. ‘Oh, I think you have many other reasons to admire him, Lydia,’ she said. ‘This is one more to add to the list.’

  ‘I’ll be interested to hear how he gets on in Canterbury.’

  ‘If he brings any news, I’ll ask him to pass it on to you.’

  ‘I don’t want to put him to any trouble.’

  ‘He’ll be thrilled to have an excuse to see you again.’

  Lydia felt excited at the thought of meeting him again but did her best not to show it. She asked if Madeleine was going to tell her father about Colbeck’s advice and her friend produced an unbecoming grimace.