The Stationmaster's farewell

Michael?’

‘Yes, it is.’

‘So, by rights, they already belong to us.’

‘You’ll have to be patient, Mrs Heygate,’ warned Quinnell. ‘The law must take its course and it can’t be rushed. Until then, nothing must leave the premises. If it had been my decision, that canary would still be there.’

‘Do you mean Peter?’

‘Yes, that was his name. I was only persuaded to let him go when I feared that he might starve to death if left alone in the house.’

‘He should have come to us,’ said Heygate in annoyance.

‘Yes,’ added Lavinia. ‘Peter is ours now.’

‘Have you ever looked after the bird before?’ asked Quinnell.

‘Well, no, sir — to be honest, we haven’t.’

‘But we would have done if Joel had asked us,’ affirmed Heygate.

‘The person who did look after him while your brother was away,’ said Quinnell, ‘was the waitress who works in the refreshment room — Miss Hope. I’m assured by Mr Woodford that the canary has gone to a good home.’

‘This is ridiculous,’ said Heygate, hotly. ‘A slip of a waitress is allowed to take something from the house but I’m given nothing even though everything there is mine.’ He took a moment to control his temper. ‘Can’t we at least go into the house?’

‘No, Mr Heygate, I’m afraid that you can’t.’

‘What’s to stop me?’

‘Inspector Colbeck wants everyone to be kept out of it.’

‘Is he that detective from London?’

‘Yes,’ said Quinnell, ‘I summoned him personally. He believes that the house may hold clues as to where your brother was going on the fatal night. Now that the inquest is over, he and Superintendant Steel will be conducting a thorough search of the property.’

The first thing that Colbeck noticed about the house was that it was also a shrine to the stationmaster’s wife and daughter. Nothing that they ever had worn or owned had been thrown out. The daughter’s room had been preserved exactly as it had been on the day of her death with toys, books and a doll’s house in their usual place as if the girl was about to return at any moment. It was the same in the main bedroom where a whole wardrobe was given over to the wife’s attire and where her possessions were on display everywhere. Joel Heygate had kept them alive in his heart. Agnes Rossiter’s claim was demonstrably false. The idea that such a loving husband and father would let another woman take the place of a wife and daughter was ludicrous. In the privacy of his home, the stationmaster had all that he wanted.

Colbeck and Steel were systematic. They went from room to room, sifting through various items and comparing notes as they did so. There were a number of books about birds and some old copies of the Railway Times and of Herapath’s Railway Journal. Of most interest was a series of letters, tied with a ribbon and kept in the drawer of a sideboard. As he read through them, Colbeck came to one that was signed by Michael Heygate. It had been dashed off when he was seething with anger and disappointment. Heygate was blaming his elder brother for not coming to his rescue when his business venture in Dawlish got into serious financial trouble.

‘This confirms what we heard from the coroner,’ said Colbeck, passing the letter to Steel. ‘The two brothers were not exactly good friends.’

Steel read the missive. ‘The language is rather intemperate,’ he noted. ‘I’m not sure that I’d remain friends with someone who hurled abuse at me like this.’

‘Look at the date, Superintendent.’

‘It was last May,’ noted the other.

‘That’s six months ago,’ said Colbeck. ‘It may well be that they haven’t even seen each other since then. Michael Heygate’s letter comes close to breaking off all relations with his brother.’

‘He gave a very different impression at the inquest.’

‘I was watching his wife. She gave him a broad smile at one point. Her brother-in-law had been battered to death then burnt in a bonfire. What possible reason could she have to smile?’

Steel handed the letter back. ‘That’s very revealing, Inspector,’ he said. ‘It may be that Bagsy Browne is not a lone suspect, after all. Someone else had a strong motive as well. We know that Michael Heygate was in Exeter on the night that his brother was murdered. And we know — because he admitted it — that he actually met the stationmaster.’

‘That puzzled me,’ recalled Colbeck. ‘He said that he and his wife had come to see the bonfire. Why come on the eve of Guy Fawkes Day instead of on the day itself? It’s only a short train ride from Dawlish, isn’t it?’

‘It’s a mere four stops away — Exeter St Thomas, Exminster, Starcross and then Dawlish. There was no reason to be here a day earlier.’

‘Do you stay with family members when you’re in their neck of the woods?’

‘It’s usually the main reason for the visit, Inspector.’

‘So why didn’t they spend the night under this roof?’

‘The letter explains that.’

‘It also makes it clear that Michael Heygate and his wife were very short of money. Did they stay with friends in Exeter or at an inn? If it’s the latter, it raises the question of how they could afford it. Talking of money,’ he went on, ‘have you noticed anything about our search?’

‘Yes,’ said Steel, ‘there’s no cash whatsoever in the house — unless it’s been carefully hidden, that is.’

‘Presumably Mr Heygate would have had access to the station safe. Even so,’ said Colbeck, thoughtfully, ‘he’d need money for running expenses. You’d expect to find some ready cash on the premises.’

‘Unless it was stolen,’ conjectured Steel. ‘Stolen to pay for a night or two at an inn, perhaps? Michael Heygate could afford it if he’d robbed his brother.’

Colbeck advised caution. ‘We’re getting ahead of ourselves, Superintendent. I think we need to question him — and his wife, for that matter — before we jump to any conclusions. What our search has uncovered is a rift between the two brothers. That, in itself, is enough to designate Michael Heygate as a possible suspect. But,’ he added, ‘we have to remember that there is another one.’

‘Bagsy Browne remains the most likely culprit.’

‘I was thinking of Lawrence Woodford,’ said Colbeck. ‘That’s why I’ve asked Sergeant Leeming to take a closer look at the new stationmaster. Ambition can sometimes drive a man as hard as brotherly hatred — even harder in some cases.’

‘I agree. It can gnaw at a man’s soul.’

‘Indeed, it can. By the way, I need to ask a favour of you.’

‘What’s that, Inspector?’

‘Can you spare a man to stand guard on this house?’

‘Is that necessary? Nobody is likely to come here.’

‘You’re overlooking something,’ said Colbeck. ‘According to the coroner, no effects were found on or near the deceased. When he went out that evening, Mr Heygate must have been carrying his key. Where is it?’

‘The killer must have it,’ said Steel.

‘That’s what I deduced. What if he stole it in order to use it?’

Dorcas Hope held the key in the palm of her hand and studied it with mingled pride and regret. She felt honoured that it had been entrusted to her but sad that she’d never be able to use it again. If, as expected, he was confirmed as the new stationmaster, Lawrence Woodford would move into the house in time and Dorcas would have no reason to go there. Her first impulse would be to return the key but that would involve explanations to the police and she wanted to avoid that. She was still jangled by her appearance at the inquest. Having to speak in front of all those people had shredded her nerves and sent her scuttling back home. She could simply not face the ordeal of returning to work that day. She needed time to recover. In the safety of her bedroom, she’d taken the key out from its hiding place under her bedroom carpet. It was a symbol of the friendship between her and Joel