‘We have a criminal underworld here as you do in London, Inspector. Ours is much smaller but it operates by the same rules. Mulleady was once part of it, hence his usefulness to us. He heard things on the grapevine.’
‘Yes,’ said Leeming. ‘There’s a grapevine in London as well. How it works I don’t know but word travels like wildfire. You can arrest a man in secret but, an hour later, every criminal in the city is aware of it.’
‘Somebody tipped Bagsy off,’ said Steel.
‘How was the Irishman killed?’
‘We think he was stabbed to death. His trousers were soaked with blood. I had the body taken away for a postmortem. We’ll know the full details later.’
‘You said that he was fished out of the canal,’ noted Colbeck.
‘Mulleady was probably on his way back to his lair. That’s where he lives, you see, in a half-derelict barge. Everyone knows that,’ said Steel. ‘I’m sure that Bagsy did. All that he had to do was to follow Mulleady home from the pub.’
‘Browne is a natural suspect, Superintendent, but there must be others. Men who betray people to the police usually have short lives. I daresay that many in your criminal fraternity would have been happy to see Mulleady dead.’
‘It’s too big a coincidence. The woman is arrested and the man who made that arrest possible is promptly killed. There’s a direct connection there.’
Leeming readily agreed but Colbeck was more cautious in allotting the blame. They were still trying to assimilate one surprise when Steel sprang another on them.
‘My men had to arrest Mrs Rossiter again,’ he told them.
‘Oh dear!’ said Colbeck. ‘She didn’t go into the cathedral again, did she?’
‘No, Inspector, her target this time was the undertaker’s.’
‘Do you mean the one where the stationmaster’s body is kept?’
‘She insisted on viewing it.’
Leeming was horrified. ‘Doesn’t she realise the state it’s in?’
‘That’s irrelevant, Victor,’ said Colbeck, sorrowfully. ‘Dr Swift diagnosed her illness. She’s in the grip of an obsession and it won’t slacken its hold. Mrs Rossiter believes that she would have married Heygate. She’s driven by a mania.’
‘What exactly did she do, Superintendent?’
‘She lost all control,’ said Steel. ‘When they wouldn’t let her in, she smashed the window with a stone and clambered into the premises. She cut both hands on the splinters of glass and tore her dress. By the time my men got to her, she was howling like a she-wolf and trying to fight her way into the room where the body was kept. You can imagine the sort of crowd that she drew.’
‘What about her sister?’ asked Colbeck. ‘Was she there as well?’
‘Miss Impey fainted on the spot and had to be revived with smelling salts.’
‘It looks as if we missed all the fun,’ said Leeming with a chuckle. ‘While I was having a long and boring walk, there was high drama at the undertaker’s.’
‘It’s not a subject for amusement, Victor.’
‘All the same, sir, I’d like to have been there.’
‘I wish you had been,’ said Steel. ‘You could have restrained her earlier.’
‘Where is the poor woman now, Superintendent?’ asked Colbeck.
‘She’s on her way to the County Asylum in Exminster. I’m always sad to see someone carted off there but it’s the best place for her. Dr Swift agreed. As soon as he heard what had happened, he signed the committal papers for her.’ He sat back in his chair with a wry smile. ‘You must wish you had never come anywhere near the city, Inspector. Since you’ve been here, you’ve had a whole series of problems cropping up. It’s hardly the best way for you to prepare for your wedding.’
‘I sometimes forget that it’s even happening.’
‘It must happen,’ said Leeming. ‘My wife and I have an invitation.’
‘My sympathy goes out to your bride,’ said Steel. ‘As long as you’re here, the young lady must be tormented by anxiety.’
‘Yes,’ said Colbeck, pursing his lips. ‘I fear that you may be right.’
Madeleine gave her father a farewell kiss and watched him strolling along the street. He was off to take tea with Binnie Langton, and his daughter wished that she could feel happier about it. Closing the door, she came back into the house and moved over to her easel, placed near the window to catch the best of the light. A half-finished locomotive stood on the canvas before her, its massive bulk partly obscured by wisps of steam. Madeleine had no urge to pick up her brush. Her mind was on her father’s impending meeting with a woman who had inexplicably transformed his life. She told herself that Binnie Langton was probably a kind, respectable, pleasant and considerate person who would make an ideal companion for Caleb Andrews. Yet the worries lingered that he might be walking into some kind of trap.
She scolded herself for having such negative thoughts. Madeleine felt that she should put her father’s needs first. She’d been flustered by his glib talk of marriage but even he couldn’t be thinking of so serious a commitment yet. There was plenty of time for her to meet the woman and make a fair assessment of her. Nothing would be done without her approval. Though her father was the nominal head of the household, he always deferred to her advice. That being the case, her apprehension was ill-founded. All that he was doing was having a cup of tea and a piece of cake with a new friend. There was nothing sinister or troubling in that.
Madeleine picked up her brush and worked with peace of mind at last.
The house was on the other side of Camden and very much like the dwelling that Andrews had left. He stood at the window of the house next door and used it as a mirror in which to inspect his appearance. After a few adjustments to his dress, he was ready for the big occasion. Binnie Langton opened the door the moment he knocked on it, giving him a gushing welcome and helping him off with his overcoat. She was a fleshy woman with a large bosom and a spreading midriff that was barely kept in check by her corset. It was her face that had entranced Andrews. She had a chubby handsomeness and a winning sparkle in her eyes.
‘It’s so good of you to come, Caleb,’ she cooed.
‘I’ve been looking forward to it,’ he said, inhaling her perfume. ‘Did you keep your promise about the cake?’
‘Oh, I’ve made a lot more for you than a cake.’
‘Then I’m very glad I came.’
‘You must stay just as long as you wish.’
‘Thank you, Binnie.’
Her hand brushed his arm and made it tingle. He’d been in the house less than a minute yet he already felt at home. The prospect of spending a whole afternoon with such a delectable creature was almost intoxicating. As she led him into the parlour, Andrews gave a giggle of pleasure. It died in his throat. Waiting to meet him was a middle-aged woman with a slender figure and a narrow face.
‘This is Ivy,’ said Binnie, putting her hand on the woman’s shoulder. ‘She’s my sister and she’s being dying to meet you.’
Ivy Young extended her hand. ‘How do you do, Mr Andrews?’
He was speechless.
Edward Tallis had been reluctant to meet the bishop for the second time but he accepted the necessity of doing so. Someone had to persuade him not to resort to calling on the soldiers at Topsham Barracks. He had unhappy memories of the militia being summoned in London to control disorder. Accidents always happened. Innocent people were usually hurt or even killed. It was true that the army would not be there to police a riot but their presence would be disruptive and likely to incite violence. The very sight of a soldier’s uniform somehow inflamed some people. They simply had to protest against the occupation of their city.
On the way to the bishop’s palace, he rehearsed his arguments. He had even more time to do so when he got there because the bishop kept him waiting for a long time. When he was finally admitted to the library by Ralph Barnes, his annoyance was not assuaged by Bishop Phillpott’s greeting.
‘Good afternoon,’ said Phillpotts. ‘I can only spare you twenty minutes.’
‘I expected more time than that.’
