A Christmas Railway Mystery Page 28

  He stared down at the two names and noticed a telling detail. Though he hailed from Derby, one of them, Nathan Ringer, had recently been released from Maidstone Prison. If he’d stayed in the area, he’d most certainly have been able to read the local press. Having spent his sentence plotting his revenge against Tallis, he might suddenly have found that the man was coming within reach at long last and seized the chance to strike.

  Closing the ledger, Grosvenor got to his feet with the conviction that he’d discovered the right culprit this time. Nathan Ringer had been released after a long sentence. He’d had years of toil, misery and isolation to keep his anger bubbling away under the surface. Evidently, it had now been given full vent.

  Having arrested, charged and taken Edgar Fellowes to the police station in the Old Town, the detectives waited until he’d been safely locked away then went straight to Inspector Piercey’s house. Annoyed at first to be roused from his bed, Piercey was delighted to hear that the case had been solved and to receive the evidence on which he could arrest Simeon Cudlip. In order to do that, he’d have to close down Claire Knight’s brothel yet again but, having done it before, he knew that it would soon reappear elsewhere. Like Colbeck, he believed that even prostitutes deserved the protection of the law and should not have to submit to sexual violence from crazed clients. Since the detectives were anxious to leave the town, it meant that the inspector was back in charge once more and that pleased him more than anything.

  On the train back to London, Colbeck and Leeming were able to put one case aside for the time being and concentrate on the disappearance of Edward Tallis.

  ‘Where is he?’ asked the sergeant.

  ‘I don’t know where he is, Victor, but I know where he should be and that’s among his army friends, receiving their congratulations and reminiscing about old times. From what I hear,’ said Colbeck, ‘reunions of this kind are virtual feasts. Wine and spirits flow very freely.’

  ‘I’d settle for a pint of beer and a meat pie, sir.’

  ‘You’ll have to wait.’

  ‘What if Mouldy Grosvenor has already found him?’

  ‘Then I’ll be the first to shake his hand. Yet somehow I fancy that he’s had no success so far,’ said Colbeck. ‘Had he rescued the superintendent, he’d have sent me a telegraph instantly to boast about his achievement.’

  ‘Are we going to Scotland Yard first?’

  ‘There’s no point. The search is being controlled from Canterbury.’

  ‘Mouldy may not be very pleased to see us.’

  ‘We’re not going directly to him.’

  ‘Then where are we heading?’

  ‘We’ll take a train to Ashford,’ said Colbeck, ‘then take the branch line to Hastings. That will enable us to get off at Hythe.’

  ‘Why are we going there?’ asked Leeming.

  ‘It’s where the barracks are situated. Members of his old regiment have been helping in the search so they’ll know if there’s been any development.’

  ‘But it will probably be midnight by the time we get there, sir.’

  Colbeck laughed. ‘This is a reunion dinner, Victor,’ he said. ‘They’ll be drinking until dawn.’

  In the event, it was impossible for Captain Wardlow to stay awake. With his walking stick still in his hand, he faded off into a light sleep and, miraculously, stayed upright in the chair this time. All that Hinton had to do was to fight off fatigue so that he could keep a close eye on him. Darkness had brought the hunt to a stop but neither man dared to leave what had become the temporary headquarters of the search. The only refreshments on offer were cups of tea and slices of rock-hard cheese. As he looked at his sleeping companion, Hinton was glad that he’d defied his childhood ambition of becoming a soldier and joined the police instead. In spite of what the captain had said about Tallis’s exemplary record in the army, Hinton would have hated serving under him. Whenever he’d aroused his wrath, he could always retire to the pub at the end of his shift and moan to the other constables. In the army, he’d never have been off duty and would certainly not have the relative freedom he currently enjoyed.

  Though he knew that his mind should be focussed entirely on the search, his thoughts kept drifting to Lydia Quayle. Since she’d come into his life, she’d brought a pleasure he’d never enjoyed before. There was an unspoken affection between them that made even the briefest of meetings with her occasions of joy. Hinton wished that he could engineer such encounters without appearing to be too forward but he lacked the skill to do so. There was also the barrier of social inequality. Lydia inhabited a wholly different world and he could never hope to enter it. At the same time, she’d given him what he felt were clear indications that she wanted their friendship to develop. Exactly how that would happen, however, he was at a loss to understand.

  Warm thoughts of Lydia made him feel pleasantly drowsy and he longed to fall asleep and meet her once again in his dreams. But the sound of raised voices jerked him fully awake. He stood up as Grosvenor came into the room but Captain Wardlow remained asleep. Grosvenor wanted a full audience for his announcement so he shook the old man unceremoniously by the shoulder.

  ‘What’s up?’ said Wardlow, eyes struggling to open. ‘Is there news? Have we found him yet? What’s happened?’

  ‘I know who the villain is,’ asserted Grosvenor.

  ‘You said that once before,’ Hinton reminded him.

  ‘This time, there’s no mistake. The man was recently let out of Maidstone Prison so we can be certain he’s in the county. He knew that the superintendent would be coming here because I found a cutting from the local newspaper with details about the reunion.’

  ‘I sent that cutting to the major,’ said Wardlow, guiltily. ‘To some extent, I’m responsible for what happened. My name was mentioned, you see. Anyone reading the article would assume that Major Tallis would stay with me beforehand.’

  ‘That’s exactly what Nathan Ringer did,’ said Grosvenor.

  ‘How do you know?’ asked Hinton.

  ‘It’s blindingly obvious, man.’

  ‘Not necessarily, sir. Many prisoners are illiterate. They certainly don’t read newspapers. What sort of a person was Ringer?’

  ‘He was an expert forger so he was clearly educated. As well as counterfeit, he was convicted of obtaining money by false pretences from wealthy widows, and there were other crimes that could be laid at his door – hence the long sentence.’

  ‘Why didn’t you pick this individual out earlier?’ said Wardlow.

  ‘It was because he came originally from Derby and had no apparent connection with Kent. Sam Byard, by contrast, was a Kentish man.’

  ‘That depends on which side of the Medway he was born. If he hails from north of the river, like me, he’d be a Man of Kent. To be a Kentish man, he’d have to come from the south side.’

  ‘Let’s not be pedantic, Captain.’

  ‘I’m still not convinced about this new name you’ve plucked out of the air.’

  ‘That’s because you haven’t studied Ringer’s case in the way that I did.’

  ‘Prison can have a profound effect on someone, sir.’ Hinton said to him. ‘It can either break a man’s spirit, as it seems to have done in the case of Sam Byard, or it can send a prisoner out into the world, seething with resentment.’

  ‘Ringer belongs to the latter category.’

  ‘Did his sentence involve hard labour, sir?’

  ‘Yes, it did.’

  ‘That can sour a man for life.’

  ‘Well,’ said Wardlow, grudgingly, ‘you seem to have found the right man at last – and not before time. I suppose I should commend you for that.’

  ‘Byard was a man of limited intelligence and low cunning, the kind of criminal that exists in large numbers in the slums of London. Ringer is from a different class of offender. He’ll want to get even with the people who caught him in the first place.’

  ‘That will be Inspector Colbeck and the superintendent,’ said Hinton. ‘Does
he have designs on the inspector as well?’

  ‘That’s irrelevant, Constable.’

  ‘How do we track this man down?’ asked Wardlow.

  ‘The first move is to visit Maidstone Prison itself. I’ll take on that task,’ said Grosvenor. ‘They’ll know the details of his discharge and may be able to provide an address for him. Having looked after the man for so long, they can also tell me about his behaviour while he was locked away there.’

  ‘Did you learn anything about this fellow’s character during your researches?’

  ‘I learnt one thing, Captain. Nathan Ringer has a mean streak. He’ll want to make the superintendent suffer.’

  Tallis had no concept of time. Was it day or night? How long had he been there? Had Christmas come and gone? There was a more imediate question. How much longer could he survive? His limbs seemed to take it in turns to go into spasm or to lose all feeling. The only relief he could get was by shifting his position and rubbing the dead arm or the twitching leg against the stall. For the rest, it was a case of progressive agony. Just when he thought the pain was at its worst, the intensity would increase even more. He was being stretched on the rack of someone’s malevolence until his joints were pulled irresistibly apart.

  As predicted by Leeming, it was midnight before they finally reached the barracks in Hythe. Because they’d turned up at such an hour, it took them some time to persuade the sentries that they were there on legitimate police business. They were conducted to a room near the officers’ mess where the reunion was taking place. Sounds of jollity and drunken laughter percolated through to them. Celebrations were clearly still in full swing. They had a long wait before Captain Ardingley agreed to see them. Irritated at being dragged away from the reunion dinner, he was curt during the introductions.

  ‘What, in God’s name, do you mean by coming here at this ungodly hour to ask the same question that that young constable put to me?’

  ‘Who was that?’ asked Colbeck. ‘Constable Hinton or Constable Legge?’

  ‘Hinton, I think. I sent him packing.’

  ‘Why was that, Captain?’

  ‘He dared to suggest that private correspondence I’d received had somehow been read by people plotting to kidnap Major Tallis.’

  ‘That was enterprising of him in my view. But we come with a very different question. Before I put it to you, can you please confirm that Superintendent Tallis, as we know him, is still missing?’

  ‘Unhappily, he is, Inspector.’

  ‘Then let me tell you what’s brought us here.’

  ‘It’s uncanny,’ said Leeming, staring at the captain. ‘Did you realise how much you resemble him? When you first walked in, I thought for a moment you were Edward Tallis.’

  ‘The resemblance is very faint,’ said Ardingley, dismissively.

  ‘Did you serve with him?’

  ‘Yes, I did and I was proud to do. The major was an inspiring soldier.’

  ‘We, too, have profited from his inspiration,’ said Colbeck. ‘I’m glad to find something at last on which we can agree. The army moulded him and this regiment has remained an important part of his life.’

  Ardingley slowly mellowed. Looking resplendent in his dress uniform, he listened intently as Colbeck explained his reasoning. Because Tallis would only have been in Kent in order to attend the reunion, he believed that the kidnap might have some link with the regiment.

  ‘That’s a foul calumny!’ said Ardingley, roused once more.

  ‘I’m not saying for a moment that anyone here is in any way involved,’ said Colbeck, ‘merely that the roots of this crime may lie in the major’s military past.’

  ‘I don’t follow, Inspector.’

  ‘If you served with him for many years, you’ll have known Major Tallis well.’

  ‘I revered the man.’

  Leeming was about to say that the captain even made an effort to look like Tallis but he thought better of it and held his peace. Colbeck developed his theory at length and gradually won Ardingley over.

  ‘It’s fortunate that you were brought to my office,’ said the captain, smiling.

  ‘Why is that, sir?’ asked Leeming.

  ‘I know where the drink is hidden.’

  Ardingley unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk and took out three glasses and a bottle of brandy. Having poured a generous measure into every glass, he passed one each to his visitors then raised his in a toast.

  ‘Let’s drink to the safe return of Major Tallis!’

  Colbeck and Leeming echoed the toast then took a grateful sip of their drinks.

  ‘I owe you an apology, Inspector,’ said Ardingley, waving them to chairs and sitting down himself. ‘It was only when you were talking just now that I remembered where I’d heard your name before. You led the investigation into that tragic business of Aubrey Tarleton’s suicide. He’d been the colonel of this regiment when I joined the army and we were sad to see him retire to Yorkshire. Then came the news of his death,’ he added, shaking his head. ‘Major Tallis wrote to me at the time to heap praise on the way that a certain Inspector Colbeck had handled the investigation.’

  ‘He didn’t heap praise on us,’ grumbled Leeming.

  ‘Solving the mystery behind the suicide was a reward in itself,’ said Colbeck. ‘It was a case that was very dear to the superintendent’s heart.’

  ‘It was dear to all our hearts,’ said Ardingley.

  Tarleton’s suicide had come as a great shock to those who knew him. He’d walked along a railway track in the path of an oncoming train and was killed instantly, Tallis’s emotional reaction had been a hindrance to the inquiry and it was only when Colbeck and Leeming were left alone that they were able to take the investigation to its conclusion.

  ‘To return to the present situation,’ said Colbeck, ‘it was tempting to believe that Superintendent Tallis was abducted by a criminal he was instrumental in catching and convicting.’

  ‘That’s the theory on which the search has been operating,’ said Ardingley. ‘His replacement, a fellow named Grosvenor, claimed to have discovered the culprit and went off to arrest him.’

  ‘Can you recall who it was, sir?’

  ‘Byard – that was it. Sam Byard.’

  ‘I remember the case well. He robbed people on trains. The superintendent and I arrested him and his accomplice.’

  ‘Well, I heard from one of the soldiers deputed to help in the manhunt that Byard was not the man behind the major’s kidnap. It was another failure for Scotland Yard. I have to say that I’ve not been impressed by the men sent to take charge of this case – though I excuse Constable Hinton. You were right about him, Inspector. At least he sought a connection between the army and the crime.’

  ‘What we need from you, Captain, is the name of a military Sam Byard.’

  ‘Soldiers don’t rob people on trains.’

  ‘Perhaps not,’ said Colbeck, ‘but they do get into trouble and take umbrage at the way they’ve been treated by their superior officers. Can you think of any person who might have been severely disciplined by Major Tallis, as he was at the time, and who nursed a grievance thereafter?’

  ‘I’m not sure that I can,’ admitted Ardingley. ‘The major was known as a fair-minded man. It explained his popularity with the lower ranks. Let me think for a few moments.’ He put his glass aside. ‘As you’ll appreciate, my brain is rather clouded …’

  When he’d been promoted, Grosvenor didn’t expect that he’d be called upon to travel through the night to Maidstone Prison and have to pound on the door for minutes before it was finally opened. The governor’s house was inside the precincts and he was tucked up snugly in his bed but, fortunately, his deputy was on duty and he saw at once the need for urgency. He took the newcomer to the office where the prison records were kept.

  ‘What was the name?’ he asked.

  ‘Nathan Ringer.’

  ‘I don’t remember him offhand. That means he behaved himself while he was with us. The ones who stay
in the mind are the rebels or those who try to escape.’

  ‘Ringer was released only weeks ago.’

  ‘Then we’ll soon find him.’

  The deputy governor was a tall, straight-backed man with a manner that suggested a military background. Opening a ledger, he used a finger to work his way down a list of names.

  ‘Here he is,’ he said. ‘Nathan Isaac Ringer. It’s strange how many deep-dyed villains have biblical names.’

  ‘What do your records say about him?’

  ‘He seems to have caused us no trouble while he was here.’

  ‘Do you have any idea where he went when he left?’

  ‘Oh yes, we always ask for an address before they depart.’

  ‘And what address did Ringer give?’

  ‘He went from here to Stelling Minnis. He was going to stay at a pub there.’

  ‘Where is this place?’

  ‘It’s not far from Canterbury.’

  Leeming could not believe the captain’s powers of recall. Ardingley was a human history of the regiment. While the sergeant was feeling dizzy after a glass of brandy, a man who’d been drinking all evening was thinking and talking with exceptional clarity. The captain couldn’t remember anyone who’d shown outright hatred of Tallis but he was reminded of an incident that he thought might be relevant.

  ‘It was during our time in India,’ he said. ‘The intense heat and the ever-present danger took its toll on all of us. Drunkenness was a constant problem and not just in our regiment. It was endemic in the British army and always has been. The case I’m thinking of concerns a man called Joseph Stagg.’

  ‘Who was he?’

  ‘He’d joined the army young and seemed to take to the life at first. Then we were moved to India and he became something of a troublemaker. The major always said that he was more sinned against than sinning. Some of us disagreed with that assessment of Stagg. I thought that there was always a whiff of insubordination about him.’

  ‘What happened to Stagg?’ asked Colbeck.