‘Then your expectations will be dashed.’
‘Bishop Phillpotts has another appointment,’ explained Barnes. ‘Do sit down, sir.’
Tallis sat in front of the desk. ‘I’ve come about the soldiers.’
‘I’m glad that someone agrees with me,’ said Phillpotts. ‘I had thought to leave it a few days but I’m minded to summon them immediately.’
‘I strongly oppose the plan, Bishop Phillpotts.’
‘Oh — I assumed that you’d come to endorse it.’
‘Let me state my case,’ said Tallis, ‘and I do so as an army man who had almost thirty years’ service in uniform. I rose to the rank of major and was proud to have such authority. But I always sought to use it wisely.’
Bishop Phillpotts was cantankerous. ‘I don’t have time to listen to your military reminiscences, fascinating though they doubtless are. You are an interloper in this city and should bear that in mind. I know what’s best for Exeter.’
‘Do you wish to provoke chaos?’
‘I wish to ensure the capture of this unconscionable rascal named Browne and the only way to do that is to employ more men in the search. They can go from house to house until they find out where he’s hiding.’
‘The police
The bishop was peevish. ‘Why wasn’t I told?’
‘You just have been.’
‘Is the villain in custody as well?’
‘No,’ said Tallis, ‘he’s still at liberty, but Superintendent Steel is confident that his accomplice will act as bait. In other words, his capture is imminent.’
‘I see,’ said the bishop, ruminating.
‘Call in the troops and you’ll upset everything — not least the police force. The last time you sent word to Topsham Barracks, I’m told, the soldiers caused mayhem here and engaged in a free fight with the police.’
‘I refuse to accept the blame for that,’ declared Phillpotts.
‘The bishop acted correctly in an emergency,’ said Barnes.
‘Yet it seems as if another emergency was created. Let me be frank,’ said Tallis, leaning forward. ‘Policemen are unpopular. That’s a fact of life. Soldiers are even more unpopular if they’re seen taking over the streets of a city like this. Why stoke up civil resentment? It’s foolhardy. I beg you to reconsider.’
The bishop had a silent conversation with his secretary before replying.
‘Your argument is reasonable,’ he confessed. ‘It’s right to point out the possible consequences. But I haven’t made the decision lightly. In one day, I submit, the soldiers will find the stone under which this reptile named Browne is hiding. They can then withdraw to their barracks. As an army man, you should surely endorse the use of trained soldiers.’
‘It’s a question of circumstances, Bishop. This is not the place for them.’
Phillpotts had another wordless exchange with his secretary. For all his submissiveness, Barnes was clearly exerting some influence and making the bishop pause for thought. Phillpotts offered a concession.
‘Very well,’ he resumed, turning back to Tallis. ‘I’ll revoke my earlier decision to summon them instantly — or, indeed, in a few days. I grant you a week in which to capture this odious individual. But I insist on police protection. Tell that to Superintendent Steel. Browne clearly has a personal animus against me. So does someone else, it appears. An unhinged female ran wild in the cathedral and mocked my authority. I’ve had to warn the cathedral staff to be on the lookout for her.’
‘The lady in question will never repeat that outrage, Bishop.’
‘I can’t be certain of that.’
‘Yes, you can,’ said Tallis. ‘Mrs Rossiter has been arrested by the police a second time. My information is that she’s now confined in the lunatic asylum.’
Exminster station had been opened five years earlier and still had a sense of newness about it. The train took Colbeck on the short journey there. He had his first look at the County Asylum through the window of his carriage. It rose above all the buildings around it with an arresting bulk and solidity. He felt sorry for anyone detained inside it and reserved special compassion for Agnes Rossiter. A week ago, she’d been a conscientious employee of the South Devon Railway with a secret passion for Joel Heygate. As a result of his death, she’d now been committed to a lunatic asylum.
‘How long will you keep her here, Dr Swift?’
‘It’s far too early to put a timescale on it.’
‘Was she violent when she was brought here?’
‘Yes,’ said Swift, ‘she fought every inch of the way. I had to sedate her. You must have heard what happened at the undertaker’s.’
‘Superintendent Steel gave me a vivid description.’
‘I had no alternative. She had to be brought here for her own safety.’
‘I agree,’ said Colbeck.
They were in Swift’s office, a room that was excessively tidy and that smelt faintly of disinfectant. Bookshelves ran along two of the walls, laden with files. On the desk was a small pile of books. Colbeck noticed that one of them had been written by Morton Swift. It was placed so that any visitors would see it and was another instance of his vanity.
‘What will happen to Mrs Rossiter now?’ asked Colbeck.
‘She’ll be given time to adapt to her new situation. We keep inmates to a set routine, Inspector. That’s very important.’
‘Will you be in charge of her case?’
‘Initially,’ said Swift, ‘but I may have to hand her over to someone else before long. We have a capacity of eight hundred beds here, most of which are filled. I can’t give personal attention to each inmate.’
‘I understand that,’ said Colbeck. ‘Is it possible for me to see her?’
Swift was adamant. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t allow that,’ he said. ‘I’ve given her a strong drug and she’s probably asleep by now. In any case, she needs to be left in our charge for some time before we even discuss the possibility of visitors. The outside world doesn’t exist for her at the moment.’
‘What about her mourning attire?’
‘That’s been taken from her. She’s dressed in the same way as the rest of our inmates. We don’t let them wear their own clothing in here, Inspector.’
Colbeck was disappointed. He’d wanted to see Mrs Rossiter for himself but accepted that it was impractical. Swift was more qualified to assess her needs. The inspector just wished that he could feel more sanguine about her prospects. The doctor’s manner was professionally comforting and his office was impressive. On the way to it, however, Colbeck had seen burly male nurses manhandling one of the inmates and he heard a series of female screams and wails from other parts of the building. The asylum was not the quietest place in which a disturbed person could recover. It was a clamorous prison for the insane and incurable.
‘I appreciate your concern, Inspector,’ said Swift, ‘but your sympathy might be directed elsewhere. Agnes Rossiter is in our care now. The person who really deserves some attention is her sister, Miss Impey. What occurred today must have been unbearable for her — it’s hardly surprising that she fainted. If you could spare a moment to look in on her, you might be able to offer welcome reassurance.’
‘I intended to do just that,’ said Colbeck, getting to his feet. ‘Thank you, Dr Swift. It was good of you to see me so promptly.’
Swift stood up. ‘You’re bound to be interested in her case,’ he said. ‘After all, she’s a hapless victim of the crime you’re here to investigate. Her derangement was caused by the ghastly murder of Mr Heygate. May I ask,’ he went on as he led Colbeck to the door, ‘if you’ve made any progress so far?’
‘We believe so, Dr Swift. We have a prime suspect and every hope of snaring him very soon. It may even be that he’s committed a second murder in the city.’
‘Dear God!’
‘It’s very unfortunate,’ said Colbeck, sighing, ‘because it will give further ammunition to the bishop.’
‘Oh — what has Bishop Phillpotts been up to now?’
