being strangled. Mrs Tarleton was first overpowered so that the sack could be slipped over her head. Then she was shot twice.’
‘God rest her soul!’ said Leeming before sipping his beer.
‘I’ve sent word to the house so it’s only a question of time before her son comes to identify the body. I’ll wait for him.’
‘Superintendent Tallis needs to be informed as well.’
‘That’s your job, Victor.’
‘Do you want me to write to him, sir?’
‘No,’ said Colbeck. ‘He’ll want the full details. You must catch the next train to London and present a full report.’
Leeming was delighted. ‘I can go home?’
‘Only for one day. That’s all the time I can spare. You can deliver your report then reacquaint yourself with your wife and children for a night. However,’ he added, ‘please don’t discuss the case with Estelle. She wants to enjoy her husband’s company, not to hear any unpleasant details about two corpses.’
‘Thank you, Inspector,’ said Leeming. ‘This is a treat for me.’
‘Let’s call it compassionate leave, shall we?’
‘Call it what you will – it’s an unexpected blessing.’
‘There is one other duty for you, Victor.’
‘Just tell me what it is.’
‘I want you to deliver this,’ said Colbeck, slipping a hand into his pocket to take out a letter. ‘I think you know how to find a certain house in Camden.’
‘It’s for Miss Andrews, I presume.’
Colbeck grinned. ‘Your detective skills are improving.’
‘I’ll deliver this first,’ said Leeming, taking the letter from him, ‘then I’ll go straight to Scotland Yard. When am I to return, sir?’
‘On the earliest possible train,’ replied Colbeck. ‘And remember that I have my copy of Bradshaw with me so I’ll know the precise time when you’re due to arrive.’
Clifford Everett was a valued customer at the bank. Whenever he came to make a deposit or to seek financial advice, he was shown straight into the manager’s office. On this occasion, he was there to pass on the tidings to Bertram Reader.
‘They’ve found the body at last,’ he said.
‘Where?’ asked Reader with keen interest.
‘It was over towards Thornton-le-Beans. Someone from a nearby farm stumbled on it in a wood. He ran miles to South Otterington to raise the alarm. It was Inspector Colbeck and his sergeant who brought the corpse here.’
‘And it’s definitely Miriam Tarleton?’
‘There’s no doubt about that, Bertram. Besides, who else’s could it be? I’m pleased to say that murder is not exactly an everyday event in the North Riding. I have it on good authority that it’s her.’
‘How did you get the news?’
‘The undertaker is a client of mine. Since I’m the family solicitor for the Tarletons, he felt that I should know at once. By the same token, I thought that you’d appreciate being told.’
‘Oh, I do,’ said Reader. ‘Thank you, Clifford. Most of the work that needs to be done falls within your remit, but there are some financial matters that will need my attention.’ He pursed his lips. ‘I do hope the children are not expecting vast sums to be on deposit here because, as you well know, that’s not the case at all.’
‘I did warn the colonel,’ said the lawyer, virtuously.
‘So did I but there was no holding him back.’
‘He lived to regret his bad decisions.’
‘I was deeply saddened when he took his own life,’ said Reader, ‘and I still quake when I recall the manner of his suicide. But at least he’s been spared the ordeal of having to identify Miriam’s corpse. He loved her to distraction. It would have broken him.’
‘Grief had already done that.’
‘That’s true, Clifford, horribly true.’ He reached for some stationery on his desk. ‘I must send a note to my wife. Agnes will want to go over to the house to offer her support to Eve – to Mrs Doel, as she now is. There’s nobody else who could do that.’
‘What about the rector? He’s her godfather.’
Reader grimaced. ‘Well, he’s not acting like one. There’s a rumour that he’s forbidden the family to bury the colonel in the churchyard. Legally, I don’t believe he can do that.’
‘He can’t,’ agreed Everett. ‘A Burial Act was passed over thirty years ago, permitting suicides to be interred in consecrated ground.’
‘Then he may be forced to back down. Notwithstanding that, it will be very upsetting for Eve and – to a lesser extent – for Adam if the rector digs in his heels and causes trouble. We both know what Mr Skelton can be like when he gets his teeth into something.’
‘Hell hath no fury like the rector on a mission.’ They traded a laugh. Everett moved away. ‘I’ll leave you alone to write to your wife. Do please give her my best wishes. Oh,’ he went on, pausing at the door, ‘there’s something I ought to ask you. What am I to expect from the children? I saw very little of them when they lived here. You and Agnes were the people who knew them best.’
‘Eve is a delightful woman,’ said Reader, fondly. ‘Any man would have been proud to have her as a daughter and that’s the way that Aubrey looked at her. You’ll have no problems with her, Clifford.’
‘What about Adam Tarleton?’
Reader rolled his eyes. ‘He’s a different proposition altogether. I don’t think he’s done a decent day’s work in his entire life. In a word, he’s a parasite. He sponged off his mother for years and treated Aubrey appallingly. I don’t know why he was christened Adam,’ he said, bitterly. ‘If they wanted a biblical name for him, a far more appropriate one would have been Cain.’
When the undertaker conducted them into the room, Colbeck stood in a corner and watched. Adam Tarleton spared his stepfather’s coffin no more than a cursory glance and his mother claimed little more of his time. As the undertaker drew back the shroud to reveal the ravaged face, Tarleton gazed at it for a brief moment before turning away.
‘It’s her,’ he said.
‘Take a proper look, sir,’ suggested Colbeck.
‘I don’t need to, Inspector. I know it’s my mother. Apart from anything else, the circumstantial evidence points to her. As far as I’m aware, no other woman of her age has gone missing.’
‘Circumstantial evidence can sometimes be misleading, Mr Tarleton. I’ve seen juries reach unsafe verdicts as a result. I’d advise you to take another look. It’s vital that identity is established beyond all doubt by next of kin.’
‘It’s my mother,’ insisted Tarleton, ‘and I’ve no wish to look at her again. This place stinks. I want to get out of here.’
Colbeck followed him out, leaving the undertaker to pull the shroud over the cadaver. When he stepped into the street, Tarleton inhaled deeply. He was in mourning attire but Colbeck didn’t feel that he was actually mourning anyone.
‘What happens next, Inspector?’ asked Tarleton.
‘An inquest will be held to establish cause of death.’
‘Isn’t that obvious? She was murdered.’
‘Yes,’ said Colbeck, ‘but we need to know when, where and how. Those details will help us in our investigation.’
‘But you already know them, surely. You found the body.’
‘All that we did was to exhume it. The actual discovery was made by a farm labourer. He deserves our gratitude.’
‘Well, if he’s expecting any money from me,’ said Tarleton, harshly, ‘he can go whistle for it. And how do you know he really found it? Couldn’t it be that he took you to the place where he’d buried the body himself?’
