‘Let’s go back to the events of yesterday,’ suggested Colbeck. ‘Where exactly did the suicide take place?’
‘It was roughly midway between here and Thirsk.’
‘That’s south of here, then.’
‘Correct, sir.’
‘According to the superintendent, the colonel’s house lies due north. If he wanted to throw himself in front of a train, he could have done so without coming through the village at all.’
‘Sergeant Hepworth had the answer to that.’
‘I’d be interested to hear it.’
‘The line to Northallerton is fairly straight. The driver would have had a better chance of seeing someone long before the train reached him. He might even have been able to stop in time. The colonel chose his spot with care,’ Ellerby went on. ‘He picked the sharpest bend so that he wouldn’t be spotted until it was far too late. Hal Woodman said there wasn’t a hope of missing him.’
‘Was Mr Woodman the driver?’
‘Yes, Inspector, and it turned him to a jelly. When the train pulled in here, Hal could hardly speak and his fireman was in an even worse state. I’ll wager they’re both off work today.’
‘You talk as if you know them, Mr Ellerby.’
‘I should do. I’ve had many a pint with Hal Woodman and Seth Roseby over the years. It wasn’t an express between London and Edinburgh, you see. It was a local train that runs between York and Darlington.’
‘Where does Mr Woodman live?’
‘He’s just over four miles away in Northallerton.’
‘Sergeant,’ said Colbeck, turning to him. ‘I think that you should pay him a visit. Take the next train.’
‘But we’ve only just got here,’ protested Leeming.
‘It’s important to have a clearer idea of what actually happened.’
‘I can give you Hal’s address,’ volunteered Ellerby.
‘Then it’s settled,’ said Tallis, taking control. ‘Leave your bag with us and catch the next train to Northallerton.’
‘Yes, Superintendent,’ said Leeming with a grimace. ‘Where will I find you when I come back?’
‘They have two rooms at the Black Bull,’ said Ellerby, pointing a finger, ‘and George Jolly lets out a room at the rear of the Swan, if you don’t mind cobwebs and beetles.’
‘That one will do for you, Sergeant,’ decided Tallis. ‘We’ll probably be at the Black Bull. Meet us there. When we’ve booked some rooms, we’ll be going out to the colonel’s house. The first person I want to speak to is Mrs Withers.’
Margery Withers let herself in and crossed to the window. It was the biggest and most comfortable bedroom in the house, commanding a fine view of the garden and of the fields beyond. She spent a few minutes gazing down at the well-tended lawns and borders, noting the rustic bench on which her employers had once posed for a portrait and the ornamental pond with its darting fish. She was torn between anguish and elation, grief-stricken at the colonel’s suicide yet strangely excited by the fact that she – however briefly – was now the mistress of the house.
After looking around the room with a proprietorial smile, she did something that she had always wanted to do. She sat in front of the dressing table and opened the jewellery box in front of her. Out came the pearl necklace she’d seen so many times around the throat of Miriam Tarleton. The very feel of it sent a thrill through her and she couldn’t resist putting it on and admiring the effect in the mirror. Next came a pair of matching earrings which she held up to her lobes, then she took out a diamond bracelet and slipped it on her wrist. It had cost more than her wages for a year and she stroked it jealously.
On and on she went, working her way through the contents of the box and luxuriating in temporary ownership. Mrs Withers was so caught up in her fantasy that she didn’t hear the sound of the trap coming up the gravel drive at the front of the house. It was only when the dog started yapping that she realised she had visitors. Skip, the little spaniel who’d been moping all day, scurried to the door in the hope that his master had at last returned. When he saw that it was not the colonel after all, he retreated to his basket and began to whine piteously.
Mrs Withers descended the stairs in time to see Lottie Pearl conducting two men into the drawing room. Going in after them, she dismissed the servant with a flick of her hand.
‘Thank you, Lottie,’ she said. ‘That will be all.’ As the girl went out, the housekeeper looked at Tallis. ‘I wasn’t expecting you, Major. I fear that you’ve come at an inopportune time.’
‘We’re well aware of that, Mrs Withers. We’re here in an official capacity. You only know me as Major Tallis but, in point of fact, I’m a superintendent of the Detective Department at Scotland Yard.’
She was astounded. ‘You’re a policeman?’
‘Yes,’ he replied, indicating his companion, ‘and so is Inspector Colbeck.’
‘I’m pleased to meet you,’ said Colbeck, ‘and I’m sorry that it has to be in such unfortunate circumstances. You must feel beleaguered.’
‘It’s been an ordeal, Inspector,’ she said, ‘and there’s no mistake about that. However, I must continue to do my duty. The colonel would have expected that of me.’ She waved an arm. ‘Please sit down. Can I get you refreshment of any kind?’
‘No, thank you, Mrs Withers,’ answered Tallis, lowering himself onto the sofa. ‘What we’d really like you to do is to explain to us exactly what’s been going on.’ She hovered uncertainly. ‘This is no time for ceremony. You’re a key witness not simply a housekeeper. Take a seat.’
Mrs Withers chose an upright chair and Colbeck opted for one of the armchairs. The housekeeper was much as she’d been described to him by Tallis. She looked smart, alert and efficient. He sensed that she had a fierce loyalty to her employers.
‘In your own words,’ coaxed Tallis, ‘tell us what you know.’
‘It’s the things I don’t know that worry me, Major – oh, I’m sorry. You’re Superintendent Tallis now.’
‘Start with Mrs Tarleton’s disappearance,’ said Colbeck, gently. ‘We understand that it was a fortnight ago.’
‘That’s right, Inspector. The colonel and his wife went for a walk with Skip – that’s the dog. I think he knows, by the way. Animals always do. He’s been whining like that all day long. Anyway,’ she continued, ‘Colonel and Mrs Tarleton soon split up. She was going off to see a friend in Northallerton. It would have been quicker to go by train or to take the trap but she loved walking.’
She paused. ‘Go on,’ urged Colbeck.
‘There’s not much more to say. She was never seen again and I haven’t the slightest idea what happened to her. Some people claim to have heard shots that afternoon but that’s not unusual around here.’
‘I’m sure it isn’t, Mrs Withers. Farmers will always want to protect their crops and I daresay there are those who go out after rabbits for the pot.’ He noticed the hesitant look in her eyes. ‘Is there something you haven’t told us?’
‘Yes,’ she replied, blurting out her answer, ‘and it’s best that it comes from me because others will make it sound far worse than it is. They have such suspicious minds. On the day that his wife vanished, the colonel was carrying a shotgun. He very often did.’
‘I can vouch for that,’ said Tallis. ‘On the occasions when I’ve been here, we went out shooting together. I can’t believe that anyone would think him capable of committing murder.’
‘Oh, they do. Once a rumour starts, it spreads. And it wasn’t only the nasty gossip in the village,’ she said, ruefully. ‘There were the letters as well.’
‘What letters?’
‘They accused him of killing his wife, Superintendent.’
‘Who sent them?’
She shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea. They were unsigned.’
‘Poison pen letters,’ observed Colbeck. ‘What did the colonel do with them, Mrs Withers?’
‘He told me to burn them but I couldn’t resist reading them before I did so. They were foul.’
‘Were they all written by the same hand?’
‘Oh, no, I’d say that three or four people sent them, though one of them wrote a number of times. His
