The Stationmaster's farewell irc-9 Read online

  Leeming rolled his eyes. ‘There’s always friction when he’s around.’ He choked on his toast as he saw Tallis enter the room. Colbeck patted him on the back to help him clear his throat. ‘Talk of the devil! Here he is.’

  They manufactured a smile apiece to greet Tallis. Annoyed that they’d started without him, he sat in the vacant seat at the table.

  ‘Why didn’t one of you call me?’ he demanded.

  ‘We felt that you needed your sleep, sir,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘I’m always up at the crack of dawn in London.’

  ‘Country air can be very soporific.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ asked Leeming.

  ‘It encourages you to sleep, Victor.’

  ‘I never need any encouragement to do that, sir.’

  ‘I’m here now,’ said Tallis, ‘that’s the main thing. We can discuss our plans for the day.’ He broke off when the waiter arrived to take his order. As soon as the man withdrew, Tallis became businesslike. ‘We need to split up so that we can maximise our effectiveness.’

  ‘Are you going back to London, then?’ asked Leeming, hopefully.

  ‘Not until this case is solved. Now, you were talking about an interview with Michael Heygate, were you not, Inspector?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘Leave him to me. I’ll set off for Dawlish this morning.’

  ‘Take note of the pumping stations,’ said Leeming.

  Tallis glared. ‘If you mention the atmospheric railway once more, Leeming,’ he warned, ‘I won’t be responsible for my actions.’

  ‘In theory, it’s such an interesting concept.’

  ‘In practice, you can be such an imbecile at times.’

  Leeming was hurt. ‘That’s a bit harsh, sir.’

  ‘It’s also untrue,’ said Colbeck, touching his arm. ‘The sergeant and I will stay here. I need to have a talk with Mr Woodford and Victor is going for a walk.’

  ‘Am I, Inspector — where to?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking over what the stationmaster told Miss Hope. The old shed in which he found that owl was only a quarter of an hour’s walk away. It may be possible to locate it. Walk for fifteen minutes in every direction and keep your eyes peeled.’ He could see that Tallis was nursing doubts. ‘Mr Heygate must have had a lamp with him when he went out that night and one is missing from the station. If the sergeant could possibly find that, we’d have a valuable clue.’

  ‘I remain to be convinced,’ said Tallis.

  ‘It’s an avenue worth exploring. We have to press on as hard as we can, sir, especially in view of the latest threat from Bishop Phillpotts.’

  ‘What’s the wretched fellow been up to now?’

  ‘He’s talking about bringing in soldiers from Topsham.’

  ‘That will muddy the waters completely,’ complained Tallis. ‘Nobody has more respect for the army than I do but there’s a time and place for them. We can’t do our jobs properly if we keep bumping into a battalion of soldiers.’

  ‘The bishop felt that they could assist in the search for this man, Browne.’

  ‘He should leave crime detection to those trained to do it. Browne is our prime suspect but I’m not persuaded that he definitely committed the murder. I need more evidence and I won’t get that with the army tramping through the streets of Exeter. That’s the best way to frighten Browne off,’ said Tallis, ‘and we need to keep him in the city to have any chance of catching the rogue.’

  ‘Superintendent Steel has ensured that he’ll stay a while,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘Really — how has he done that?’

  ‘He’s arrested a woman who has allegedly been harbouring Browne. A police informant saw them together and will swear as much in court. The superintendent believes that the arrest will flush Browne out of hiding to attempt a rescue.’

  ‘That sounds promising,’ said Tallis. ‘My regret is that it comes from the initiative of the local police and not from either of you.’ He looked meaningfully from one to the other. ‘An informant is involved, you say? Will he be a credible witness in court?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Colbeck. ‘We’re told he’s very reliable.’

  He was floating face down when they found him. They had to use a pole to haul him to the side of the canal. Two burly policemen dragged him ashore and stood back as water cascaded off him. Though his trousers were sodden, they could see ugly bloodstains down one leg. As the superintendent looked on, one of the policemen turned the corpse over. Steel needed only a cursory glance to identify him.

  ‘It’s Finbar Mulleady,’ he said.

  Frances Impey was close to despair. Dr Swift had broken the news as gently as he could but it had still had the impact of a cannonball. Her sister had a mental disorder. If it expressed itself in violence again, it might be necessary to send her to Devon County Asylum. The very thought of the place made Frances shudder. Built in nearby Exminster over ten years earlier, it was a tall, forbidding, uncompromising brick edifice with six radiating arms and the appearance of a prison for those of unsound mind. A number of horror stories had leaked out of the asylum and they’d scared Frances stiff. Even though he’d assured her that the rumours were arrant nonsense, Dr Swift was unable to allay her fears. If her sister went into the place, Frances was afraid that she might never come out again and that she herself would therefore be left to bear the stigma alone.

  There had been an improvement and it was something to which she could cling. Agnes Rossiter looked better. Thanks to a sedative prescribed by the doctor, she’d slept well and awoken in a more amenable mood. Frances was able to have a proper conversation with her. Over breakfast, her sister seemed quite normal. Ignoring advice to the contrary, Mrs Rossiter insisted on wearing mourning dress once more but she’d apparently stopped brooding on the stationmaster’s death. At one point, she even talked about going back to work.

  ‘I’m not sure that that will be possible, Agnes.’

  ‘Why not, may I ask?’

  ‘Dr Swift said that you were not ready yet.’

  Mrs Rossiter frowned. ‘Was he that gentleman who called yesterday?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Frances. ‘He was here with Inspector Colbeck.’

  ‘I remember now. They were both so well dressed. I like smartness in a man.’ She smiled proudly. ‘Joel was very smart.’

  ‘Finish your breakfast, dear. It’s so good to see you eating again.’

  ‘Have I been a burden to you, Frances?’

  ‘No, no — you’re my sister.’

  ‘I’d hate to be a burden to anybody. I’ve always been so independent.’

  Frances kissed her. ‘You’re no trouble at all, Agnes.’

  When the meal was over, Frances cleared away the plates and did the washing-up in the sink. Such had been the improvement in her sister’s behaviour that she dared to hope for a complete recovery. She was drying her hands on a towel when Mrs Rossiter came into the kitchen wearing her hat, coat and gloves.

  ‘What on earth are you doing?’ she cried.

  ‘I’m going out, Frances.’

  ‘But the doctor said that you were to stay indoors.’

  ‘He can’t stop me going for a walk,’ asserted Mrs Rossiter. ‘I need some fresh air and exercise. I can’t stay here all day.’

  Frances took off her apron. ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘I’d like that.’

  ‘Where shall we go?’

  ‘I want to see Joel.’

  ‘But he’s dead. His body will be at the undertaker’s by now.’

  ‘That’s where I want to go,’ said Mrs Rossiter, simply. ‘It’s my right. I need to pay my respects. I have to see him for one last time. Don’t you understand?’

  Colbeck arrived at the station as the Plymouth train was departing. Having consulted the timetable, he knew that there would be a gap of twenty minutes before Lawrence Woodford would be called upon to despatch another train to its destination. He took the stationmaster into the refreshment room,
chose a table in the corner and ordered two cups of tea.

  ‘How are you finding your new role, Mr Woodford?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, it’s not entirely new,’ replied the other. ‘I deputised for Joel when his wife and daughter died, so I learnt the ropes then.’

  ‘You’ve shown remarkable flair.’

  ‘It’s kind of you to say so, Inspector.’

  ‘Do you live nearby?’

  ‘We have a house not far from the cathedral.’

  ‘And what does Mrs Woodford think of what is, in essence, your promotion?’

  ‘My wife is very proud of me. Her regret, of course, is that I’ve only become stationmaster temporarily because Joel was battered to death by a thug.. We’d much rather that he’d been spared such a grisly fate.’

  ‘How much did you see of him on a daily basis?’

  ‘Not a great deal,’ said Woodford. ‘I was locked away in my office most of the day while Joel was on patrol out here. But we exchanged friendly banter when we had the chance.’

  Colbeck didn’t believe him for a second. In his opinion, Woodford was not a man who’d indulge in friendly banter with anyone. He was too abrupt and officious and would be much more likely to enforce rules than to make a humorous remark to a colleague. Nor was Colbeck fooled by the man’s claim to be close to his predecessor. Woodford was too well defended to let anyone get too close to him and there was a prickly side to him that would keep others away. Dorcas arrived with the tea on a tray.

  ‘Is there any word of Mrs Rossiter?’ she asked, putting the cups on the table.

  ‘She was seen by a doctor yesterday,’ replied Colbeck. ‘He advised rest.’

  ‘When will she be coming back to work?’

  ‘I can’t answer that, Miss Hope.’

  ‘Don’t bother us now,’ said Woodford with a hostile glance. ‘The Inspector and I are trying to have a conversation.’

  Dorcas backed away. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Woodford. Do excuse me.’

  ‘That young lady works hard,’ observed Colbeck as she moved away.

  ‘She has to be kept in her place.’

  ‘People work best when given encouragement. That’s what I always find.’ He studied Woodford. ‘If you live near the cathedral, you must have been well placed to attend the bonfire celebrations.’

  ‘They had no interest for us and — as we have no children — there was no reason to take part in them. Things get out of hand too easily, Inspector. Drink is taken and tempers flare up. I abhor violence of all kinds,’ said Woodford, ‘even if it’s in fun. My wife and I steer well clear of the cathedral precinct on Guy Fawkes Day.’

  ‘Mr Heygate intended to go, I believe.’

  ‘Joel had a childish streak in him at times.’

  ‘People of all ages enjoy a bonfire,’ said Colbeck. ‘Did your predecessor ever discuss his birdwatching with you?’

  ‘No, Inspector, it’s not something that appeals to me.’

  ‘So you’ve no idea where he went?’

  Woodford scratched his chin. ‘He did once mention the Exminster marshes to me,’ he recalled. ‘Joel said that he’d seen a variety of species there.’

  ‘How far away would that be?’

  ‘Oh, it’s over three miles south of the city.’

  ‘So it couldn’t have been the place he went on the night he was killed He’d hardly walk that distance in the dark. Exminster is an unlikely destination.’

  ‘It most certainly was. Joel went …’ He turned as if about to point in one direction but thought better of it. ‘He must have gone somewhere else’

  ‘Was it a cold night on November 4th?’

  ‘It’s always cold at this time of year.’

  Colbeck put milk into his tea and stirred it. ‘Do you have any hobbies?’ he asked, casually.

  ‘My work doesn’t allow me much leisure time.’

  ‘I have the same problem, Mr Woodford.’

  ‘My wife and I do go for a walk on Sunday after church. It’s become a sort of tradition. The weather has to be really bad to deter us.’

  ‘Regular exercise is good for us. It’s probably the reason you look so healthy.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Woodford, adding milk and sugar to his tea. ‘It’s one thing where I had the advantage over Joel. He put on weight after the tragedy involving his wife and daughter. One can’t blame him for that. Food was his consolation.’

  ‘Did he ever mention a diary to you?’

  ‘Not that I can remember.’

  ‘He seems to have kept one.’

  ‘It’s the first I’ve heard of it,’ said Woodford, checking to making sure that Dorcas didn’t hear him. ‘What was in the diary, Inspector?’

  ‘We don’t know until we find it. But it might be of significant help.’

  ‘Maybe the killer destroyed it for that reason.’

  ‘I doubt if he knew that it even existed.’

  ‘Isn’t it squirrelled away in the house somewhere?’

  ‘We couldn’t find it. Just in case it is there,’ said Colbeck, ‘I asked for a policeman to guard the house. If the killer finds out about the diary, he may well come looking for it. We need to find it first.’

  ‘I wish you well in your search.’ It was Woodford’s turn to sound casual. ‘I take it that Bagsy Browne is the only suspect.’

  ‘Yes, he is,’ said Colbeck, easily. ‘Superintendent Steel is convinced of his guilt. Mr Browne is a man with a fearsome reputation, I gather.’

  ‘I was here the day he caused a rumpus. He fought like an animal until Joel knocked him out. When he came to, he vowed to get even with Joel one day.’ He breathed in sharply. ‘Unfortunately, he kept his promise.’

  The caterwauling made it impossible for Superintendent Steel to concentrate on his work. He was just about to investigate the ear-splitting noise when the custody sergeant came into his office.

  ‘It’s that woman, sir,’ he said. ‘She won’t shut up till she’s spoken to you.’

  ‘Then I’d better see what she wants.’

  ‘What she wants is a gag over that foul mouth of hers.’

  ‘Yes, she does have a colourful vocabulary.’

  They went downstairs together. When they reached her cell, Adeline Goss was still yelling at the top of her voice. At the sight of Steel, she quietened down. He nodded to the sergeant who unlocked the door of the cell.

  ‘What seems to be the problem?’ asked Steel, confronting her.

  ‘I want to know what’s going on,’ she demanded.

  ‘You’re under arrest, Miss Goss. I’d have thought that was obvious.’

  ‘They said I’d go before a magistrate this morning.’

  ‘And you will do in due course. But there’s been a development.’

  She squinted at him. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Bagsy Browne has disrupted our plans,’ said Steel. ‘You remember him, don’t you?’ She looked blank. ‘Everyone knows you’re his friend. Why deny it?’

  ‘I’ve had nothing to do with anyone of that name.’

  ‘Would you swear that on the Holy Bible?’

  ‘Yes!’ she shouted. ‘Who is this Bagsy Browne?’

  ‘He’s the man you were seen with by a witness, Miss Goss.’

  ‘What bleeding witness?’

  ‘He’s someone who knows you both by sight. His name is Mulleady.’

  ‘Finbar Mulleady!’ she said with derision. ‘Don’t believe a word that drunken Irish scoundrel tells you. The only thing Mulleady ever sees is how much is in his tankard. He’ll tell you any damn thing you want if you buy his beer.’

  ‘As it happens,’ explained Steel, ‘Mulleady’s not in a position to tell us anything at the moment. His dead body was pulled out of the canal this morning.’ She cackled with delight. ‘There’s nothing to laugh about. It’s one more crime to chalk up to the man you’ve never heard about — Bagsy Browne. He obviously got wind of the fact that Mulleady was going to bear witness against the pair of you. That’s two murders w
e’ll hang him for — and you’ll be his accessory to one of them.’

  Adeline was silenced at last. Fear and disbelief seized her. Her mind was racing madly as the cell door was slammed shut in her face and locked.

  Michael Heygate and his wife were surprised when Tallis turned up on their doorstep. Since he was now in charge of the investigation, however, they felt that he’d come to give them a report on its progress. Tallis didn’t disillusion them. He was there to question them without appearing to do so. Invited into the parlour, he sat by the fire and refused the offer of refreshment.

  ‘Sergeant Leeming came to see us yesterday,’ said Heygate.

  ‘So I understand. Like me, he found Dawlish a charming place.’

  ‘It’s not been all that charming for us,’ muttered Lavinia. ‘But our prospects have suddenly improved,’ she added with a whisper of a smile. ‘When the sergeant heard that I came from Starcross, all he wanted to talk about was the-’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ said Tallis, cutting her off. ‘I’m all too aware of that. What I came to tell you is that the net is closing in on the killer.’

  ‘Have you identified him, then?’ asked Heygate.

  ‘We believe so.’

  ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Bernard Browne — though I understand that he’s known as Bagsy.’

  ‘Yes, we’ve met him,’ said Lavinia before she could stop herself. After collecting a stern look from her husband, she gave a nervous laugh. ‘We don’t really know the man, but someone called Bagsy came into the shop once.’

  ‘Oh?’ said Tallis, interested. ‘What did he want?’

  ‘He bought a fishing rod,’ said Heygate, indicating to his wife that she should hold her tongue. ‘It was a long time ago. I’d forgotten all about him.’

  ‘He bought a fishing rod?’ Tallis was astonished. ‘Everything I’ve heard about this villain suggests that he’d be more likely to steal one.’

  ‘He paid us the full price.’

  ‘If he came here, he must have seen your name above the shop.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘Did he connect you with the stationmaster at Exeter St David’s?’