Points of Danger Read online

  ‘I know, sir. I had great trouble at first.’

  ‘Well, you seem to have adapted very well, Hinton. In some ways, you’re an example to others.’ He looked down at the details on the paper. ‘Thank you again for providing this. Off you go.’

  Hinton got out quickly before the superintendent’s mood changed. Emerging into the corridor unscathed, he wondered how Colbeck would react to the information he’d just provided from the record office and whether or not it would have a bearing on the case.

  Coaxing the full story out of Grace Swarbrick took time and forbearance. Colbeck said nothing, leaving any comments to Anthea Freed, who, as a friend of the other woman, was better placed to comfort, probe and urge her on. It took almost half an hour to describe an event that took less than a minute. Grace seemed hugely relieved when it was over.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Swarbrick,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘Don’t rely too much on what I’ve told you, inspector. My memory is still very hazy.’

  ‘I believe that you gave me the salient facts.’

  ‘The truth is that I’ve tried to block it out of my mind.’

  ‘That’s what any woman in your position would do,’ said Anthea. ‘It’s a natural response. Don’t you agree, inspector?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ said Colbeck. ‘Some people find that the only way they can cope with disagreeable memories is to suppress them completely. It’s as if the brain has its own safety mechanism, filtering out things that threaten to cause intense pain. Inevitably, however,’ he continued, ‘there are people or situations that set off that pain again. My fear is that one such trigger is pacing the carpet downstairs.’

  ‘You’re referring to my stepson,’ said Grace with concern. ‘The idea of seeing him when I’m in this condition is unsettling. Andrew has a right to be here, of course. I concede that.’

  ‘But he doesn’t have the right to upset you,’ said Anthea, ‘and I’m sure that he’d do that. Consideration of other people’s feelings was never a strongpoint with Andrew.’

  ‘Does he have a family of his own?’ asked Colbeck.

  ‘Oh, yes – a wife and two children. They live in London. Poor, dear Caroline is a timid little creature who should never have married someone as selfish and overpowering as Andrew.’

  ‘Caroline is a lovely woman,’ said Grace, ‘Unfortunately, she’s completely in her husband’s shadow.’

  ‘A wife should have some standing in a marriage.’

  Anthea’s abrupt declaration made Colbeck smile inwardly. In her marriage, he’d observed, she had certainly asserted herself. Few men would have chosen such a forceful bride, yet Cecil Freed had done so. What need it had satisfied in his life was anybody’s guess.

  ‘Thank you for being so understanding, inspector,’ said Grace.

  ‘It’s I who owe you gratitude, Mrs Swarbrick. In helping me the way you have done, you’ve shown true courage.’

  ‘To tell you the truth, the effort has rather exhausted me.’

  ‘Then I’ll get out of your way,’ he said, slipping his notebook back into his pocket. ‘I won’t need to trouble you again.’

  ‘I’ll step outside with you,’ volunteered Anthea, opening the door. ‘I’d value a moment of your time.’

  ‘Have as much of it as you wish, Mrs Freed.’

  They went out to the landing and closed the door behind them.

  Anthea stretched up to her full height so that she looked into his face.

  ‘There’s only one thing that will put Grace’s demons to flight.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘You must catch that vile killer, inspector.’

  ‘We’ll endeavour to do so.’

  ‘Are you confident of success?’

  ‘It never pays to be too confident, Mrs Freed,’ he told her. ‘What I will say is this, however. On the basis of what we’ve so far discovered, I see no reason why all the parties involved in this heinous crime will not be caught and punished accordingly.’

  ‘Is that your professional opinion?’

  ‘No – it’s my promise.’

  Horace Pryor was watching a passenger train pull out of the station when Victor Leeming came up behind him.

  ‘Where’s that heading?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s the 12.15 to Great Yarmouth.’

  ‘Then it’s late.’

  ‘That’s nothing unusual, Sergeant,’ said Pryor.

  ‘You told me that you hold the entire timetable in your head.’

  ‘I do. It’s part of my job.’

  ‘When is the next train due that will take the branch line?’

  ‘Oh, it’s not for an hour or more.’

  ‘Then I want you to take me to the spot where Mr Swarbrick was killed and on down the line.’

  Pryor’s mouth was agog. ‘Why?’

  ‘As far as possible, I want to follow the route that the killer took. If he galloped off in that direction, when did he leave railway property and go into the city itself?’

  ‘I’ve been wondering that myself.’

  ‘Then let’s find out together, shall we?’

  When they were down on the track, Sergeant Duff suddenly turned up and asked where they were going. Leeming told him.

  ‘Do you want me to come with you?’ asked Duff.

  ‘I prefer Constable Pryor’s company,’ said Leeming, blithely.

  And they left Duff fuming in silence on the platform.

  In addition to enjoying private wealth, Cecil Freed had a substantial salary as managing director of an engineering firm. He was in his office when his secretary brought in the news of his visitor. Though far from pleased, he decided, after consideration, to meet the man. Oliver Trant was soon shown into the room. There was a purposeful air about him. Offering him a limp handshake, Freed was unwelcoming.

  ‘What’s brought you here, Oliver?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, I didn’t come to sell you a pair of shoes, you’ll be relieved to know. As a matter of fact, I came to lodge a complaint.’

  ‘Against whom, may I ask?’

  ‘It’s against you, Cecil.’

  ‘Why? What am I supposed to have done wrong?’

  ‘There are quite a few things you’ve done wrong, as it happens, but it would take too long to enumerate them. More specifically,’ said Trant, tone hardening, ‘I’m here to ask why you set that confounded detective on to me.’

  ‘Inspector Colbeck is the man retained to solve the murder.’

  ‘I gathered that. Why did he waste time coming to me? Did you tell him that, as well as manufacturing boots and shoes of superior quality, I was a trained assassin?’

  ‘Don’t be absurd!’

  ‘Are you on his list of suspects?’

  ‘Of course I’m not.’

  ‘Then you’ve no idea how unnerving it is when he turns up out of the blue and starts to cross-examine you. Frankly, I was insulted. There was no need at all for him to speak to me,’ said Trant, vehemently. ‘Do you really think that I was the man who shot Jarvis Swarbrick dead?’

  There was a long pause during which Freed searched for the right words to appease the other man. He pointed to a chair.

  ‘Why don’t you sit down, Oliver?’

  ‘I’m not staying.’

  ‘Then let me be honest. I did not set anyone on to you. When the inspector asked me about problems we’d had with the board of directors, your name came up as someone who’d clashed from time to time with Jarvis.’

  ‘We had a candid exchange of views, that’s all.’

  ‘I heard the threats you made, Oliver.’

  ‘I simply warned him that the bill would never be passed in its present state until he accepted my emendations.’

  ‘Your language was inflammatory.’

  ‘It was born out of my love for the ECR. And don’t forget that Jarvis had a wounding turn of phrase. I still have the scars. In any argument, he gave as good as he got and because he and I didn’t see eye to eye,’ Trant went on, ‘you told Colbeck that
I was behind the murder.’

  ‘I merely said that … he should speak to you.’

  ‘The day will come when you’re actually forced to tell the truth for once, Cecil. Your tongue will probably burn to a frazzle with the effort.’

  ‘There’s no need to be offensive.’

  ‘What’s more offensive than being accused of murder?’

  ‘You weren’t accused.’

  ‘Well, it damn well felt like it.’

  ‘Look,’ said Freed with an emollient smile, ‘you mustn’t take it personally. Colbeck is known for his thoroughness. He wants to speak to everyone who has a major link to the ECR, you included.’

  ‘Because of you, I no longer have any link at all.’

  ‘You were voted off the board by a majority decision.’

  ‘Yes, and we all know who engineered that decision, don’t we? It isn’t just wire netting and associated products that you manufacture here,’ said Trant with a gesture that took in the whole works. ‘Betrayal and back-stabbing are also available at a price.’

  ‘You’re imagining things, Oliver.’

  ‘Am I?’

  There was a taut silence as the two of them glared at each other. Trant was throbbing with anger and Freed was wishing he’d never agreed to see the man. He suddenly felt invaded. There’d been a long, fraught history between them. Ironically, it had been Freed who’d invited Trant to join the board, a decision he soon regretted bitterly because the latter immediately set about trying to undermine his position as chairman. In a bid to get rid of him, Freed strode to the door and opened it wide to indicate he should leave. Trant held his ground.

  ‘Why don’t I speak to inspector Colbeck again?’ he asked with a meaningful smile. ‘Why don’t I tell him what really happened behind the scenes – the things that never got into the minutes? What would happen then, Cecil?’

  After simmering, Freed capitulated and closed the door.

  ‘We must talk,’ he said.

  After his interview with Swarbrick’s widow, Colbeck returned to the railway station so that he could take a second look at the scene of the crime. The moment he appeared, he was surrounded by reporters from national and local newspapers. He gave them a lengthy statement and repeated his conviction that the murder would soon be solved. As he was talking, he noticed that Sergeant Duff was lurking nearby and used him as a convenient means of escape.

  ‘I’m still gathering information,’ he said, ‘and finding my way around Norwich, so I’m not the best person to talk to. Sergeant Duff was standing on this platform when the murder actually occurred and can tell you all you wish to know about the immediate consequences.’

  ‘That’s true,’ said Duff, stepping forward importantly.

  ‘At this stage, he’s better informed than I am.’

  The reporters shifted their attention to the railway policeman at once, firing questions at him from all angles. Duff was in his element, given a fleeting celebrity at last and blossoming at the thought of seeing his name in the newspapers. Colbeck, meanwhile, slipped away to the stationmaster’s office for safety. He found Grigson seated at his desk.

  ‘Ah,’ said the other, rising to his feet and picking something up, ‘you’ve come at just the right time, inspector.’

  ‘I’m in flight from the gentlemen of the press.’

  ‘This telegraph arrived for you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Colbeck, taking the envelope from him.

  ‘I’ll leave you to read it in private. If the reporters ask where you are,’ said Grigson with a chuckle, ‘I’ll tell them you went off to the police station.’

  ‘I’m most grateful.’

  The stationmaster left the office and Colbeck was able to read the telegraph sent by Tallis. The news did not surprise him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Since her husband was frequently away from home, Madeleine Colbeck accepted that her relationship with him had to be an epistolary one from time to time. It had its consolations. His letters were so wonderfully characteristic of him that he seemed to be there in person. Written in a neat hand and couched in cultured prose, they deserved to be read again and again. Colbeck always told her enough about an individual case to give her some idea of the problems he and Leeming were facing, but he also spent time telling her how much he missed her and their lovely daughter. Madeleine had kept every single piece of correspondence from him – even if it was merely a short note – to remind her of the way that they’d met, become friends and drifted gently into a romance that eventually ended in marriage.

  Ordinarily, his latest missive would have joined the others but, once she’d written her reply and had it posted, she kept his letter by her so that she could study the passages relating to the murder. While she was profoundly sorry for the victim, she reserved her deepest sympathy for his wife. Grace Swarbrick had been dangerously close to her husband when he was shot dead. She must have been both horrified by what happened to him and in fear for her own life. Imagining herself to be in the same position, Madeleine knew that she’d have fought a losing battle against panic and despair.

  She felt so sympathetic towards the woman that she wished she could do something to help. Until their child was born, she’d been able to work in secret on some of Colbeck’s investigations, exploiting the fact that women could win the confidence of other women more easily than men. Madeleine found herself disappointed that she couldn’t go and comfort Grace Swarbrick, learning things in the process that her husband would never be able to draw out of the woman. It would bring Madeleine that keen sense of satisfaction in being able to assist her husband that had disappeared since the birth of Helen Rose Colbeck. As she read his letter once more, she tried to picture the grieving widow and wondered how she was coping in such an appalling situation.

  ‘Would you like me to go?’ asked Anthea Freed.

  ‘No, no, please stay.’

  ‘But you keep dozing off.’

  ‘I don’t mean to, Anthea.’

  ‘Did the doctor leave any of those tablets?’

  ‘Forget about them,’ said Grace Swarbrick, making the effort to sit up in bed. ‘They sent me to sleep but they also gave me nightmares. I’d rather stay awake. It’s no good trying to hide from the future. I’ve got to face it somehow.’

  ‘We’ll face it together.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘It’s a time when you must rely on your friends.’

  ‘You’re the only real friend I have.’

  Anthea knew that it was, to some extent, true. After almost three years of marriage, Grace had still not been completely accepted in some circles. Her stepson was not the only person who looked askance when his father found himself a new bride before he’d gone through a full period of mourning. It shocked most people and alienated a few altogether. Because of the close alliance between Jarvis Swarbrick and her husband, Anthea had felt duty-bound to welcome, befriend and look after the new wife. Grace had turned out to be charming, dignified and possessed of far more intelligence than most of the women in Anthea’s circle. She had another endearing quality. Unlike them, Grace had taken a serious interest in Anthea’s charitable activities.

  ‘You’ve been so kind to people less fortunate than ourselves,’ said Anthea, ‘that you deserve kindness to be shown towards you now. Not that I’m trying to turn you into one of my good causes,’ she added, hastily, ‘but you take my point.’

  ‘I’m going to need a lot of support,’ said Grace, wearily.

  ‘You’ll get it.’

  ‘Andrew will be my main problem.’

  ‘I’ve done my best to scare him off.’

  ‘It’s strange, isn’t it? I worked hard to build bridges between Jarvis and his son but all to no avail. Andrew simply refused to countenance me. I managed to win over Caroline but, unfortunately, she has no influence over her husband. Now,’ said Grace, ‘I’ve actually got what I wanted in the sense that Andrew is back in the family home again, yet … I’m frightened of him.’

>   ‘He won’t hurt you.’

  ‘Why else is he here? It’s certainly not to offer his condolences or to settle his differences with me. He still blames me for marrying his father. As long as he’s under this roof, I’ll be afraid to venture out of this room.’

  Cecil Freed was slumped in his chair, sipping a glass of brandy. After his blistering interview with Oliver Trant, he wished to be left alone. Then his secretary told him who’d called to see him and his resolve melted at once. The one person he could not send away was Andrew Swarbrick. He went out to greet his visitor and bring him into the office.

  ‘I was hoping you’d come, Andrew,’ he said, solemnly. ‘I don’t have the words to say how desperately sorry I am about what happened to your father. It’s a tragedy for the whole family and a catastrophe for us.’

  ‘The family will survive somehow. I’m really here to talk about the amalgamation. Is it quite dead?’

  ‘Without someone to pilot it through the House, it could well be.’

  ‘Then we must find a way to resuscitate it.’

  ‘If only we could!’ wailed Freed. He flapped his hands in apology. ‘Oh, do excuse my poor hospitality. Please sit down. I felt the need of a glass of brandy. Can I offer you one as well?’

  ‘No, thank you. I like to keep a clear head.’

  ‘I’m not allowed to drink at home so I keep a bottle hidden in my desk. If she knew, my wife would tear me to pieces.’

  ‘Your secret is safe with me, Mr Freed.’ Both of them sat down. ‘I’ll come straight to the point. I believe that there is one certain way to rescue the bill, but it depends very much on you.’

  ‘I’m mystified.’