A Christmas Railway Mystery Page 22

  Predictably, he got a frosty welcome. When Cudlip opened his front door, he looked at Leeming with a mingled peevishness and contempt. He made an effort to control himself before he spoke.

  ‘Good afternoon, Sergeant,’ he said, coldly.

  ‘How are you, Mr Cudlip?’

  ‘I was having a pleasant day until you interrupted me.’

  ‘I’m sorry to spoil it but there are a few questions I’d like to ask.’

  ‘In that case, you’d better step inside.’

  Standing back reluctantly, he let his visitor in then followed him into the living room. It was small, well furnished and impeccably clean. Beside the single armchair was a table on which a book was lying.

  ‘What are you reading?’ asked Leeming.

  ‘It’s A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. I always read it at this time of year. It reminds me that even bad people can have some good inside them.’

  ‘That’s not been my experience, sir. The people I deal with are usually bad people with an abiding love of evil inside them.’

  ‘Is that how you see me?’

  ‘Of course not,’ said Leeming. ‘I see you for what you are – a man who does his job efficiently and organises his life very carefully. That’s what’s on the surface, anyhow. What’s underneath is what arouses my curiosity.’

  ‘And what do you think is underneath, Sergeant?’

  ‘I think that you’re a very lonely man.’

  ‘If you like reading, as I do, you’re never alone.’

  ‘Do you spurn human company?’

  ‘Most of the time, I do.’

  ‘Then let’s talk about a time when you didn’t,’ said Leeming. ‘Where were you on the night of the murder?’

  Cudlip sighed. ‘We’ve been through this rigmarole before.’

  ‘It’s different this time.’

  ‘Then the answer is that I was here, on my own, minding my own business.’

  ‘I have two witnesses who’d challenge that claim, sir.’

  ‘They’re barefaced liars!’

  ‘I choose to believe them,’ said Leeming, calmly. ‘That’s unusual, I agree. People in that occupation rarely tell the truth to a policeman but, on this occasion, one of them did.’ Cudlip’s face whitened instantly. ‘I’ll name no names.’ The other man turned away and tried to collect himself. ‘I have to say that I was very surprised,’ continued Leeming. ‘After years of experience, I can often pick out the men who go to places like that. I didn’t single you out, Mr Cudlip.’

  ‘It was a mistake,’ said the other, swinging round. ‘I’d never been there before and I don’t intend to cross that threshold ever again.’

  ‘You won’t be allowed to cross it. We both know why.’

  ‘It was … an aberration I prefer to forget.’

  ‘Mrs Knight and her daughter can’t forget it that easily. You terrified them.’

  ‘I was drunk.’

  ‘I thought you told Inspector Colbeck that you’d stopped drinking.’

  ‘I have … occasional lapses.’

  ‘Don’t you think it’s an odd coincidence that you had one of your lapses on the very night that Frank Rodman was murdered?’ Getting no reply, Leeming pressed on. ‘When I first became a policeman, there was an old sergeant who gave me some good advice. If I was ever called to a burglary or some other crime, he said, the first places I should go to were the local brothels. You’d be amazed how many criminals like to celebrate their success by jumping straight into bed with a woman. The married ones have wives, of course, but the others need to pay for their pleasure – just like you. As a matter of fact,’ he recalled, fondly, ‘some of my first arrests were made in brothels. Villains are less likely to make a run for it with their trousers off.’

  Cudlip sounded contrite. ‘I’m ashamed of what happened, Sergeant.’

  ‘Ashamed of going to that particular house – or ashamed of what you did before you went?’

  ‘I was drunk, I tell you.’

  ‘Yes, but why did you feel the need for alcohol? Did you have an urge to celebrate? Is that what happened? You were so elated by the thrill of committing a murder that you needed a drink or two to celebrate before going off to a brothel.’

  ‘No!’ howled Cudlip.

  ‘Then why did you behave like an animal?’

  ‘I couldn’t help myself.’

  ‘And why was that, sir?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Is that the way you always treat a woman?’

  ‘Euphemia has no complaints as a rule.’

  ‘I thought you’d only ever been there once.’

  ‘Well, yes … I mean … you’re just trying to confuse me.’

  ‘No,’ said Leeming, confronting him, ‘I’m trying to do the opposite. I’m trying to make everything crystal clear but I need your help to do that. So please don’t insult me by inventing any more lame excuses. I’m beginning to think that I may be standing face-to-face with the man who killed Mr Rodman.’ He took him firmly by the shoulders. ‘Am I right, Mr Cudlip?’

  Betty Rodman was still upset by the anonymous letter that had popped through her letter box that morning. It had left her wondering if there were other shocks still to come. When Fred Alford replaced his wife at the house in the afternoon, Betty taxed him with keeping her in ignorance.

  ‘You must have known, Fred.’

  ‘Yes, I did,’ he admitted.

  ‘Then why didn’t you tell me about them?’

  ‘You were in enough pain as it was, Betty.’

  ‘I thought I could rely on you to be honest with me.’

  ‘I was honest,’ said Alford, worried by her accusatory tone. ‘All sorts of rumours were flying about. Most of them were probably complete nonsense. Would you have wanted me to tell you about them and cause you even more grief?’

  ‘You let me down.’

  She lowered her head. They were seated opposite each other. The baby was in the crib and the two boys were playing together upstairs. Alford was delighted to have the chance to spend time with her and he’d expected her to lean on him for advice. Instead, she was treating him as if he’d betrayed her and that was wounding. He’d always considered himself part of the family. Rodman had spent leisure time with him and his two sons treated Alford as a kind of uncle. The real bonus was the fact that Betty turned to him in times of trouble. Unknown to Rodman – or to Liza, for that matter – Alford had occasionally given her money in an emergency. It had earned him Betty’s thanks and deepened their friendship. All of a sudden, that friendship was in danger.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, touching her arm, ‘You know how I feel about you.’

  ‘I thought I did.’

  ‘Betty, I was trying to protect you.’

  ‘I was bound to find out sooner or later.’

  ‘Yes, I agree, but I don’t know that you’d have been able to cope with the full truth at the start. One of the railway policemen told me that it had been a frenzied attack. It made my blood curdle when I heard that. I didn’t dare tell Liza, let alone you. I suppose that I hoped someone else would do it – someone like the vicar or that Inspector Colbeck. It would come better from them. They’ve talked to people in your situation before. I haven’t. I’d struggle to find the right words.’

  ‘I’d simply have liked to hear the truth.’

  ‘No matter how unpleasant it was?’

  ‘Yes, even then. I feel as if there’s been a conspiracy against me. I’m the one person who ought to know everything but people have ganged up against me and told me as little as possible. That includes you, Fred.’

  ‘I’d never deliberately hurt you, Betty.’

  ‘Well, you did.’

  There was a bruised silence. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Betty was lost in her own thoughts while Alford was struggling to find a way to appease her. When she looked up, she changed the subject completely.

  ‘Are you going to the concert tonight?’

  ‘I’d rat
her be here with you.’

  ‘If you don’t mind, I’d prefer Liza’s company.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said, stung by the rebuff. ‘I’m sorry you feel like that.’

  ‘Go to the concert instead. You love music.’

  ‘You used to love it as well, Betty. You never missed it when Frank was singing as solo. He was happiest when he could open his lungs and let out that glorious voice of his. I’m going to miss that.’

  ‘I’ll miss far more than his voice.’ Head to one side, she studied him for a moment. ‘What would you have done, Fred?’

  ‘I don’t follow.’

  ‘If you’d been there when Frank was attacked, what would you have done?’

  ‘I’ve have gone to help him, of course.’

  ‘And what would you have done to the other man?’

  ‘I’d have killed him,’ he said with a surge of passion. ‘If Frank was in trouble, I’d have murdered the bastard attacking him.’

  Reunited at their temporary office, the detectives took it in turns to describe their respective visits. Colbeck talked about his conversation with Samway, noting that the man seemed to have company at the house, possibly that of a woman. After telling him about his discovery relating to the coal sack, Leeming recounted the revealing interview with Simeon Cudlip.

  ‘I came very close to arresting him,’ he confessed.

  ‘What stopped you, Victor?’

  ‘It was a warning you once gave me, sir. Suspicion needs to be supported by the kind of evidence that will hold water in court and we don’t have that yet. I’d hate to arrest Cudlip, only to see him released in due course.’

  ‘Do you believe that he really was the killer?’

  ‘I’m seventy per cent certain.’

  ‘Wait until we reach one hundred per cent.’

  ‘That’s why I stopped myself reaching for the handcuffs,’ said Leeming. ‘What about you, sir? Did you get the feeling that Samway was involved in the murder somehow?’

  ‘Yes, I did. At least, I felt that he could have been. He’s patently a man with a lot to hide. Samway wouldn’t even let me inside the house. He kept me shivering on the doorstep.’

  ‘Perhaps he didn’t want you to find out about the woman upstairs.’

  ‘I’m not certain that it was a woman. You must find out for me, Victor.’

  Leeming was taken aback. ‘I can’t tell you who she was.’

  ‘If you pay another visit to that house, you may be able to. Samway is not the most prepossessing character. If he wants a woman, he has to resort to Mrs Knight and her daughter. See which one of them called on him today.’

  ‘I will,’ said Leeming. ‘What about this evening?’

  ‘That’s already fixed. We’re going to the concert.’

  ‘Earlier on, you said that all five suspects will be there as well.’

  ‘They probably will.’

  ‘I doubt that.’

  ‘Llewellyn has to be there because his solo is in the programme.’

  ‘What about Cudlip and Samway? Why should either of them go along?’

  ‘They’d do so from force of habit, I daresay. What else can you do here except go to the pub? The concert is a major event. Everyone looks forward to it. I fully expect Alford to be there with his wife, though he’s going to be put out when he hears the Welshman taking the place of his old friend.’

  ‘What about Daniel Gill?’

  ‘He’ll turn up so that he can find out how the investigation is going. Only a guilty man would come for that reason. I found out something very interesting about Gill. He served his apprenticeship as a locksmith.’

  Leeming slapped the table. ‘So it could have been him who managed to get into the church. Mouldy Grosvenor was right, after all. Gill is our man.’

  Colbeck laughed. ‘Have you deserted Cudlip so easily? A moment ago, you were seventy per cent sure that he was the killer.’

  ‘I’m not so sure now.’

  ‘Then let’s press on hard until we know for certain. I’m dying for a resolution here so that we can get to Canterbury and find out what’s going on.’

  ‘Has there been no telegraph?’

  ‘No,’ said Colbeck, ‘and that’s disturbing. Grosvenor would only contact me if he had success to report and could take credit for it.’

  ‘But you told me he hasn’t even gone to Canterbury.’

  ‘He sent two constables instead – Hinton and Legge. I fear that they’ve been promoted beyond their competence.’

  ‘Mouldy has definitely been promoted beyond his competence.’

  ‘The commissioner hasn’t found him out yet.’

  ‘He soon will. Sir Richard doesn’t suffer fools gladly.’

  ‘It’s ironic, isn’t it? Tallis appointed Grosvenor without realising that he might well be anointing his successor.’

  ‘Is the situation really as dire as that, sir?’

  ‘All I know is that the superintendent is still missing,’ said Colbeck, sadly. ‘I have a horrible feeling that they may be looking in the wrong direction.’

  ‘What do you mean, sir?’

  ‘They’ll go for the obvious explanation, assuming that Tallis is the victim of criminals with a grudge against him. It may well be the case, of course, but I’ve been thinking about another threat from his past. This could relate to his days in the army.’

  ‘But he retired as a soldier over a dozen years ago, sir.’

  ‘Some people have long memories.’

  ‘They’d have struck well before now, wouldn’t they?’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ explained Colbeck. ‘To begin with, they might have had no idea where Major Tallis, as he once was, could be found. If the men who kidnapped him – and there’s no certainty that that did happen – are based in Canterbury, they’d have seen mention of him in the local press. He told us that he was due to receive a prestigious award from his regiment. That might well merit an article about him. His enemies, whoever they may be, would have seized gratefully on that information. Somehow they learnt that he’d be staying with Captain Wardlow beforehand and planned to ambush him.’

  ‘You’ve worked it all out,’ said Leeming, approvingly.

  ‘No, Victor, I’m just groping in the dark. That’s why we must get back to lend our assistance as soon as we can. I want to get at the truth. Edward Tallis is imperilled in some way. I feel that very strongly. The longer it goes on, the less likely it is that he will remain alive.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  When he’d been given this unexpectedly important task, Alan Hinton had tackled it with all the energy he could muster. Unfortunately, nobody had warned him about the pitfalls. He and his colleague, Constable Legge, had been dogged by setbacks from the start. Their knowledge of Kent was limited and neither had any flair for exerting authority. They were therefore at the mercy of the local police and the army, acting on the advice of both of them yet making no progress whatsoever. Hinton had the additional problem of having to cope with Captain Wardlow whose steely determination to rescue his friend brought out the soldier in him. Even when asking a question, he sounded as if he was barking an order on the parade ground.

  ‘Is there nothing at all to report?’ he demanded.

  ‘I’m afraid not, Captain.’

  ‘Are you sure you’ve deployed the men properly?’

  ‘I did what the inspector here suggested,’ replied Hinton, ‘and that was to organise a more thorough search in the vicinity of the cathedral. Policemen or soldiers have knocked on every door within a hundred yards of the precinct in search of someone who may have witnessed the kidnap.’

  ‘Did that produce any results?’

  ‘We found a man who remembered seeing someone who might well have been Major Tallis in the crypt with a friend who had a walking stick.’

  ‘That was me,’ said Wardlow.

  ‘As long as you were together, the superintendent was safe.’

  ‘What else did this man tell you?’

  ‘Noth
ing,’ admitted Hinton. ‘There was just that single sighting of you.’

  ‘Is everyone blind in this city?’

  ‘It’s not their fault, Captain. Nobody visits the cathedral to look at other people. They’ve usually got their heads in a guidebook or are looking up at that magnificent ceiling.’

  ‘Well, they should be more perceptive – and so should you.’

  ‘We’re doing our best, sir.’

  ‘But that’s palpably untrue, Constable. You’re young and willing but that’s all I can say in your favour. When you’re older, you may eventually acquire an aptitude for command. At the moment, however, it’s woefully absent.’

  ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, sir,’ said Hinton, uncomfortably. ‘I’m only obeying orders and doing so to the best of my ability.’

  ‘Well, it’s not good enough. I made that point clear in a telegraph to Scotland Yard. When one needs action, one goes to the very top. On that basis, I approached the commissioner himself.’

  Hinton’s heart sank. He feared repercussions. If he was described by the captain as being inadequate, it would affect his chances of a career in the Detective Department. He might even be put back in uniform, his hopes of working with Colbeck disappearing like so many wisps of smoke. They were back in a room at the police station, seated at a table on which a map of Kent was spread out. The ever-widening search continued but was now hampered by darkness. Hinton’s one initiative had been the visit to the barracks but he’d been met with a dispiriting response from the man charged with organising the reunion. He longed to be back in the crime-ridden streets of London. He was at home there. In an army barracks, he felt, he was on enemy territory.