‘They’ve sent for a famous detective to come here from London.’
‘Goodness!’ exclaimed Maud.
‘The superintendent didn’t like the idea. He said that the police could solve the crime on their own. But the man from the railway company said that they needed this inspector from London. He’s in charge from now on.’ She scratched her head. ‘I did hear his name. Now, what was it?’ After a moment’s cogitation, she snapped her fingers. ‘Colbeck — that was it. His name is Inspector Colbeck.’
The police station was like the many others that they’d visited over the years. It was a nondescript building that comprised a reception area dominated by the duty sergeant’s desk, a cluster of cells, a larder, a tiny kitchen and a sizeable room where the police could gather and rest. Two outside privies stood at the bottom of the bare garden. Superintendent Steel’s office was in the largest of the upstairs rooms with a window that afforded him a good view of the street below. Clean and tidy, the office had shelves along two walls with books and documents stacked neatly along them. A fitful fire provided minimal warmth. On the wall hung a framed charcoal sketch of Steel in uniform. He’d given the visitors an unenthusiastic welcome and waved them to the two upright chairs, perching on the desk himself so that he occupied a position of strength. Sensing the man’s resentment, Colbeck tried to mollify him.
‘We’re most grateful for your help, Superintendent,’ he said. ‘Though we’ve managed a measure of success over the years, it’s not been entirely attributable to our own efforts. We’ve relied heavily on local police forces.’
‘It’s true,’ confirmed Leeming. ‘We’d have got nowhere in a murder investigation in Cardiff without the help of Superintendent Stockdale.’
‘And the same goes for a case we dealt with earlier this year. Our enquiries took us to Manchester, where Inspector Boone gave us invaluable assistance. We always make a point of acknowledging such people,’ stressed Colbeck, ‘and giving them their share of the credit.’
Steel relaxed slightly. ‘That’s good to hear, Inspector,’ he said. ‘I must admit that it was galling to learn that my authority had been undermined. Mr Quinnell didn’t even have the grace to discuss it with me beforehand. Your arrival was presented to me as a
Leeming’s brow furrowed. ‘What’s that?’
‘Something already done and beyond alteration,’ explained Colbeck.
‘That’s unfair.’
‘It’s also typical of Quinnell,’ said Steel, bitterly. ‘Be warned. He likes to throw his weight around and he’s a man with influence.’
‘He offered us accommodation in his own home,’ said Colbeck, ‘but I decided that that would not be in the best interests of the investigation.’
‘You were quite right, sir,’ said Leeming. ‘I’d hate to have been forced to stare at him over breakfast every morning. He didn’t like the look of me and he let me know it straight away. He made me feel like something nasty he’d stepped in.’
‘Where will you stay, then?’ asked Steel.
‘We were hoping you could recommend somewhere,’ said Colbeck. ‘On the drive here, we passed a number of public houses.’
‘At the last count, there were something like a hundred and twenty in all. At one end of the scale, we have pubs like the Pestle amp; Mortar in Guinea Street. I think we make more arrests there than almost everywhere else. There are some very squalid drinking establishments in the slums of St Mary Major’s as well. The stink there is abominable.’
‘What about the other end of the scale, Superintendent?’
‘My choice would be the Acland Tavern in Sidwell Street.’
‘Is that far away?’
‘It’s within easy walking distance of here and is an extension of High Street. You’ll find it comfortable but it can get noisy if a function is being held. The last time I was there, it was for a banquet with almost a hundred guests. When drink flowed, the din became ear-shattering.’
‘We live in London, sir,’ said Leeming. ‘It’s pandemonium there.’
‘I know. I served there as a young constable.’
‘It sounds to me as if the Acland Tavern will be ideal,’ decided Colbeck. ‘Before we book rooms there, I’d like to know what action you’ve so far taken.’
‘I had the debris cleared from the cathedral close and the remains taken away. Too many people were coming to goggle even though there was a tarpaulin over the man. It’s rather taken the fun out of the events of Guy Fawkes Day. An inquest will be held in the coroner’s court tomorrow.’
‘Good,’ said Colbeck, ‘that should throw up a lot of information for us. And I’m glad that the formalities will be held in the appropriate place. The first inquest I attended was in the house where an old woman had been stabbed to death. She lay dead in the next room while neighbours were called in to give evidence. It was positively gruesome.’
‘The inspector thinks that Mr Heygate was killed
‘That’s borne out by our findings,’ said Steel. ‘The cause of death was a blow to the head — several blows, in fact. The skull was smashed to a pulp. Frankly, I was astonished. Joel Heygate was a man who seemed to have no real enemies. He was an institution in Exeter.’
‘So the cab driver told us.’
Colbeck stood up. ‘We’ll find our way to the Acland Tavern,’ he said, resting his hat against his thigh. ‘Before we do that, Superintendent, I have three simple questions to put to you. First, how many men do you have at your disposal?’
Steel pulled a face. ‘I have far too few — less than forty altogether.’
‘Second, have you ever led a murder investigation?’
‘No, Inspector,’ confessed the other, ‘I haven’t. We have a lot of crime here but it’s largely confined to theft, disorder, drunkenness, fraud and prostitution. The last murder in Exeter was over fifteen years ago and that was before my time.’
Leeming was interested. ‘Who was the victim?’
‘It was a man named Bennett who worked for an insurance company. After visiting the Bonhay Fair, he fell in with some unsavoury characters in the Cattle Market Inn. Someone followed him home. He was later found floating in the river near Trews Weir.’
‘Did they catch the killer?’
‘Yes,’ replied Steel, ‘but the case against him rested on the word of an accomplice who turned Queen’s evidence. The general feeling was that the accomplice was more of a villain than the man in the dock. Incredibly, the killer was found not guilty of murder but guilty of the lesser charge of larceny. Instead of being hanged, he was sentenced to fifteen years’ transportation.’
Colbeck was impressed that he’d taken the trouble to look into details of the case. Steel struck him as an honest, straightforward, diligent man who took pride in his work and who was justifiably upset by the arrival of two detectives from Scotland Yard. Colbeck could see why Quinnell had described him as awkward. Steel was his own man and would not be browbeaten by others. If they could win his approval, he could be a useful ally.
For his part, Steel had been taken aback when he first met them. Leeming reminded him of the ruffians who glared at him from behind bars in his cells and Colbeck looked like anything but an experienced detective. Five minutes of talking to them, however, had convinced the superintendent that he should perhaps take them on trust. Colbeck was intelligent and incisive, while his sergeant was patently a man accustomed to the rough and tumble of policing. There was a mutual respect between the two and they seemed to complement each other. Some of Steel’s reservations about them faded away.
‘You said that there were three questions, Inspector,’ he remembered. ‘I fancy that I can guess the third one. Do we have any suspects?’
Colbeck smiled. ‘You must be a mind-reader.’
‘The answer is that we do. We have one in particular. He’s a man well known to us and he’s been arrested on previous occasions. Though he travels a great deal, he’s been seen in the vicinity recently and that’s always a worrying sign.’
