see if he’s left us anything by mistake.’ He moved the lamp so that the pool of light shifted to some ruts in the earth. ‘Now that’s interesting.’
‘What have you found, Inspector?’
‘A cart of some description was here.’
‘What’s so unusual about that?’
‘It’s well off the beaten track. The cart – or trap, most likely – would have had to pick its way through the trees. It would be completely hidden in here. Think back to yesterday evening,’ said Colbeck. ‘Do you remember that walk we had along the road to Northallerton as we traced Mrs Tarleton’s footsteps?’
‘I do,’ sighed Leeming. ‘My legs are still aching.’
‘Near one of the places we thought suitable for an ambush, we found ruts very similar to these. They were concealed in a place where nobody would have thought of driving a trap.’
‘I see what you mean, Inspector. Someone may have killed her there, put the body in the trap and brought it here to bury it. No,’ he went on, thinking it through. ‘That can’t be right. Shots were heard. If Mrs Tarleton had been shot at close quarters, there’d have been blood near the place we’re talking about yet there was none. And those search parties found no blood anywhere along that route.’
‘That was only because the killer made sure that none was left behind.’
‘How could he do that, Inspector?’
‘Why don’t we find out?’ said Colbeck, putting the lamp down.
Removing his hat and coat, he hung them on a bush then took out a handkerchief to hold over his mouth. He held the spade while Leeming took off his hat and coat. The sergeant also produced a handkerchief. Both of them had unearthed decomposing remains before and they knew that the reek could be powerful. A handkerchief over the nose and mouth helped to ward off some of the stench. Moxey looked on in amazement as Leeming used the spade to dig up the makeshift grave with almost reverential care. In the course of his work, the labourer had had to slaughter animals and he had no qualms about handling their carcases. A human body was a different matter altogether and he made sure that he didn’t get too close.
When the body came fully into view, so did an item that Colbeck picked up and brushed off before holding it close to the lamp. It was a bloodstained sack.
‘There’s the answer,’ he said, using a hand to tilt the corpse’s head to the left and seeing the gaping wound. ‘Mrs Tarleton was shot in the back of the head. My guess is that this sack was put over her first so that it would absorb any blood. Look,’ he went on, ‘there are holes in the sack.’
‘So she was shot through it,’ said Leeming.
‘It’s a strong possibility. Come on, Victor. We must bring the cart as close as we can. We’ll put her onto the sack and lift her up that way. She deserves to be handled very gently.’
It took time. The cart was too big to go all the way up to the grave, though there would have been just enough room for a trap to get through the trees. Moxey held the horse and tried to make it back up. The animal protested and had to be coaxed. Eventually, the cart got within a dozen yards of the remains of Miriam Tarleton. He then watched as the detectives lifted her onto the sack then used it like a stretcher to transfer her to the cart. Once there, she was covered by the sacks they’d brought with them. While the detectives retrieved their hats and coats, Moxey eyed the corpse, not relishing the idea of travelling on a cart with such a cargo aboard.
‘Thank you, my friend,’ said Colbeck, coming to his rescue. ‘You did us a great service in finding the body. We’ve no need to detain you any longer. Get back to the farm and tell Mr Higginbottom that I have nothing but praise for you.’
‘Will you need to speak to me again, Inspector?’
‘No – but you’ll be called upon to give evidence at the inquest.’ Moxey’s face fell. ‘All you have to do is to say how you discovered the body,’ Colbeck told him. ‘In doing so, you’ve taken the first vital step in a murder investigation. You should be proud of yourself.’
Moxey smiled inanely. ‘Should I?’
‘You’re a hero,’ said Leeming. ‘You’ve saved us weeks of looking for the lady. We can now start to search for the villain who brought her here. The family will be very grateful to you.’
‘Oh, well, that’s all right, then.’ He shuffled his feet. ‘In that case, Sergeant, I’ll be off.’
‘Before you go, I’ve got a question for you.’
‘What’s that, sir?’
‘Where exactly is this village called Leeming?’
Colbeck didn’t hear the exchange between the two men. He’d already returned to the grave and was using the spade to sift through the earth, aided by the fact that more light was now beginning to poke its way through the fretwork of branches. His search was thorough and it eventually bore fruit. Something clinked against the end of the spade. Kneeling on the ground, he felt with his hands until his fingers closed around something. He brushed off the dirt and examined what he’d found. In his palm were two spent cartridges.
The letter was addressed to Adam Tarleton and delivered by a messenger sent from Northallerton. His sister was with him when Colbeck’s missive was opened.
‘They’ve found the body,’ said Tarleton.
Eve brought both hands up to her face. ‘Oh, my God!’ she exclaimed. ‘Mother was killed, after all. I dreaded this moment. I knew in my heart that she must be dead.’ Using a handkerchief to dab at moist eyes, she made an effort to control herself. ‘Where was she found?’
‘Over towards Thornton-le-Beans.’
‘What on earth was the body doing there?’
‘I’ve no idea.’ He handed the letter to her. ‘Mother’s been taken to Northallerton. They want a member of the family to make a positive identification.’
‘I’ll go,’ said Eve, impetuously.
‘No, this is no job for a woman. It would be too distressing. After all this time, it won’t be a pretty sight.’
‘She’s my mother. I’ve a right to be there.’
‘You’d get too upset, Eve,’ he argued. ‘Look how harrowing the inquest was for you. Leave this to me. Mother would never have wanted you to see her in that state.’
She read the letter. ‘Who is Inspector Colbeck?’
‘He’s one of the detectives Mrs Withers told us about.’
‘How did he manage to find the body?’
‘We’ll have to ask him that.’
‘In one sense, I’m pleased,’ she said, biting her lip, ‘because we now know the truth of what happened to her. But in another sense, of course, I’m terribly upset. This news is devastating. I’d hoped against hope that Mother might still somehow be alive. Yet she isn’t. Someone murdered her.’
As she spoke the words, she felt their full impact and it was like a blow from a sledgehammer. Eve shuddered, dropped the letter then slumped to the carpet in a heap. Her brother bent over her in concern.
‘Mrs Withers!’ he shouted. ‘Mrs Withers!’
‘I’m coming, sir,’ said the housekeeper, hurrying along the passageway and into the drawing room. She saw Eve. ‘Goodness! What’s happened?’
‘Fetch some water.’
‘Is Mrs Doel ill?’
‘She fainted when she heard that the body’s been found.’
Mrs Withers was curious. ‘It has? Where was it, sir?’
‘Fetch the water, woman. And tell the gardener to saddle the horse for me. I have to ride over to Northallerton. Well, go on,’ he ordered as the housekeeper continued to stare at Eve, ‘my sister is not dead. She’ll be as right as rain in a minute.’
The body of Miriam Tarleton had been taken to the undertaker in Northallerton and was in the same dank room as that of her husband. While the colonel’s coffin had now been nailed down in readiness for his funeral, the remains of his wife were under a shroud on a table. Colbeck had been there during the doctor’s examination and he passed on the findings to Leeming in a pub nearby. After the horror of the exhumation, they both felt the need for a restorative drink.
‘When the body had been washed,’ said Colbeck, ‘the doctor found bruising on the neck consistent with her
