the ducks on the brook.’ He pulled a face. ‘There are no beaches where we live and there isn’t a duck for miles.’ He munched a piece of toast. ‘It makes you think, though, doesn’t it?’
‘Think about what?’
‘Well, marriage and the happiness it can bring. There’s nothing to compare with it. I’m blessed in my wife and, from what you told me about the stationmaster’s house, it’s obvious that he was happily married as well.’ He took a noisy sip of tea. ‘I wouldn’t say the same about his brother. Michael Heygate and his wife were together but you’d never say they were contented with each other. They both seemed miserable and it wasn’t because they were in mourning.’
‘Marriage affects people in different ways, Victor,’ said Colbeck. ‘You and Estelle have set a good example. Others are not so fortunate in their choices.’
‘You certainly are, sir. Miss Andrews will make an excellent wife.’
‘No question about that. I like to think that I may be a worthy husband.’
‘It’s something you have to work at,’ said Leeming, sagely. ‘But I wish you both well. Estelle was delighted that you’d invited us to the wedding. It’s not often she has an excuse to dress up in her finery.’ He took another bite of toast. ‘Have you changed your decision about the superintendent?’
‘No, I haven’t. He’d be embarrassed if we sent him an invitation and it would certainly be declined. In his company, it’s safer to pretend that the wedding is not actually happening. That reduces the risk of friction.’
Leeming rolled his eyes. ‘There’s always friction when he’s around.’ He choked on his toast as he saw Tallis enter the room. Colbeck patted him on the back to help him clear his throat. ‘Talk of the devil! Here he is.’
They manufactured a smile apiece to greet Tallis. Annoyed that they’d started without him, he sat in the vacant seat at the table.
‘Why didn’t one of you call me?’ he demanded.
‘We felt that you needed your sleep, sir,’ said Colbeck.
‘I’m always up at the crack of dawn in London.’
‘Country air can be very soporific.’
‘What does that mean?’ asked Leeming.
‘It encourages you to sleep, Victor.’
‘I never need any encouragement to do that, sir.’
‘I’m here now,’ said Tallis, ‘that’s the main thing. We can discuss our plans for the day.’ He broke off when the waiter arrived to take his order. As soon as the man withdrew, Tallis became businesslike. ‘We need to split up so that we can maximise our effectiveness.’
‘Are you going back to London, then?’ asked Leeming, hopefully.
‘Not until this case is solved. Now, you were talking about an interview with Michael Heygate, were you not, Inspector?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Colbeck.
‘Leave him to me. I’ll set off for Dawlish this morning.’
‘Take note of the pumping stations,’ said Leeming.
Tallis glared. ‘If you mention the atmospheric railway once more, Leeming,’ he warned, ‘I won’t be responsible for my actions.’
‘In theory, it’s such an interesting concept.’
‘In practice, you can be such an imbecile at times.’
Leeming was hurt. ‘That’s a bit harsh, sir.’
‘It’s also untrue,’ said Colbeck, touching his arm. ‘The sergeant and I will stay here. I need to have a talk with Mr Woodford and Victor is going for a walk.’
‘Am I, Inspector — where to?’
‘I’ve been thinking over what the stationmaster told Miss Hope. The old shed in which he found that owl was only a quarter of an hour’s walk away. It may be possible to locate it. Walk for fifteen minutes in every direction and keep your eyes peeled.’ He could see that Tallis was nursing doubts. ‘Mr Heygate must have had a lamp with him when he went out that night and one is missing from the station. If the sergeant could possibly find that, we’d have a valuable clue.’
‘I remain to be convinced,’ said Tallis.
‘It’s an avenue worth exploring. We have to press on as hard as we can, sir, especially in view of the latest threat from Bishop Phillpotts.’
‘What’s the wretched fellow been up to now?’
‘He’s talking about bringing in soldiers from Topsham.’
‘That will muddy the waters completely,’ complained Tallis. ‘Nobody has more respect for the army than I do but there’s a time and place for them. We can’t do our jobs properly if we keep bumping into a battalion of soldiers.’
‘The bishop felt that they could assist in the search for this man, Browne.’
‘He should leave crime detection to those trained to do it. Browne is our prime suspect but I’m not persuaded that he definitely committed the murder. I need more evidence and I won’t get that with the army tramping through the streets of Exeter. That’s the best way to frighten Browne off,’ said Tallis, ‘and we need to keep him in the city to have any chance of catching the rogue.’
‘Superintendent Steel has ensured that he’ll stay a while,’ said Colbeck.
‘Really — how has he done that?’
‘He’s arrested a woman who has allegedly been harbouring Browne. A police informant saw them together and will swear as much in court. The superintendent believes that the arrest will flush Browne out of hiding to attempt a rescue.’
‘That sounds promising,’ said Tallis. ‘My regret is that it comes from the initiative of the local police and not from either of you.’ He looked meaningfully from one to the other. ‘An informant is involved, you say? Will he be a credible witness in court?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Colbeck. ‘We’re told he’s very reliable.’
He was floating face down when they found him. They had to use a pole to haul him to the side of the canal. Two burly policemen dragged him ashore and stood back as water cascaded off him. Though his trousers were sodden, they could see ugly bloodstains down one leg. As the superintendent looked on, one of the policemen turned the corpse over. Steel needed only a cursory glance to identify him.
‘It’s Finbar Mulleady,’ he said.
Frances Impey was close to despair. Dr Swift had broken the news as gently as he could but it had still had the impact of a cannonball. Her sister had a mental disorder. If it expressed itself in violence again, it might be necessary to send her to Devon County Asylum. The very thought of the place made Frances shudder. Built in nearby Exminster over ten years earlier, it was a tall, forbidding, uncompromising brick edifice with six radiating arms and the appearance of a prison for those of unsound mind. A number of horror stories had leaked out of the asylum and they’d scared Frances stiff. Even though he’d assured her that the rumours were arrant nonsense, Dr Swift was unable to allay her fears. If her sister went into the place, Frances was afraid that she might never come out again and that she herself would therefore be left to bear the stigma alone.
There had been an improvement and it was something to which she could cling. Agnes Rossiter looked better. Thanks to a sedative prescribed by the doctor, she’d slept well and awoken in a more amenable mood. Frances was able to have a proper conversation with her. Over breakfast, her sister seemed quite normal. Ignoring advice to the contrary, Mrs Rossiter insisted on wearing mourning dress once more but she’d apparently stopped brooding on the stationmaster’s death. At one point, she even talked about going back to work.
‘I’m not sure that that will be possible, Agnes.’
‘Why not, may I ask?’
‘Dr Swift said that you were not ready yet.’
Mrs Rossiter frowned. ‘Was he that gentleman who called yesterday?’
‘Yes,’ said Frances. ‘He was here with Inspector Colbeck.’
‘I remember now. They were both so well dressed. I like smartness in a man.’ She smiled proudly. ‘Joel was very smart.’
‘Finish your breakfast, dear. It’s so good to see you eating again.’
‘Have I been a burden to you, Frances?’
