‘He was intelligent but pig-headed,’ said her brother.
‘Then picture this situation,’ suggested Colbeck. ‘If an intelligent man wishes to dispose of his wife, would he be stupid enough to be seen walking alone with her and carrying his shotgun? In short, would he advertise the murder in advance?’
‘No,’ said Eve, firmly, ‘of course not. Even you must agree with that, Adam.’
‘I suppose so,’ said her brother, sourly.
‘And look at the colonel’s behaviour afterwards,’ Colbeck went on. ‘Had he been the killer and tormented by guilt, he wouldn’t have committed suicide. He’s much more likely to have confessed the crime and faced execution. Do you know one of the things that drove him to do what he did?’
‘He received poison-pen letters,’ replied Agnes.
‘That’s quite right, Mrs Reader.’
‘Aubrey told my husband about them. He said they were so vile that he asked Mrs Withers to burn them.’
‘Not all of them, as it happens,’ said Colbeck. ‘We still have the last letter sent to him. It not only accuses the colonel of murder, but of other unspeakable crimes as well.’ He produced the letter from his coat. ‘I wouldn’t dare let any of you read it but I’d like you to examine the handwriting on the envelope to see if you recognise it.’ He gave it to Tarleton. ‘It was written by somebody from the area. Have you ever seen that hand before, sir?’
‘Never,’ said Tarleton, passing it to his sister.
‘I don’t recognise it either,’ said Eve scrutinising it. ‘What about you, Agnes? Does it look familiar to you?’
Agnes looked at the calligraphy and shook her head. ‘No, I’m sorry. I can’t tell you who wrote that, Inspector.’ She gave it back to him. ‘But it was someone with a warped mind.’
‘He’s not the only one. Other people sent poison-pen letters. Who knows? The killer may have been one of them, trying to put the colonel under intolerable strain that would lead him to take his own life.’ He glanced at Tarleton. ‘Even now, I fear, there are still people making the cruel assumption that the colonel was a killer.’
‘The real murderer must be very cunning,’ decided Agnes. ‘He seems to have worked out everything in advance.’
‘That’s because he underestimated us, Mrs Reader. He thought that, if the body were to be discovered, the presence of the cartridges would be proof positive to everyone that Colonel Tarleton was the villain of the piece. In my humble opinion,’ said Colbeck, ‘he most assuredly was not. The killer’s ruse has therefore failed. In setting it up, he gave himself away.’
Eve was astounded. ‘You know who he is, Inspector?’
‘I know where to start looking for him, Mrs Doel.’
‘And where’s that?’
‘Among the small group of people who ever joined a shooting party with the colonel. That’s how they’d be able to pick up his spent cartridges. You see,’ he added, displaying the ammunition again, ‘I don’t believe that these were used in the murder at all. Your mother was shot by a different weapon altogether.’
CHAPTER TEN
Eric Hepworth would never be welcome at the Black Bull in South Otterington. The landlord resented his lordly manner, the landlord’s wife disliked the way he ogled her and other customers were unsettled by the presence of a policeman. Even on the few occasions when Hepworth had changed out of his uniform, he could still discourage people from entering the bar. He loomed large and tended to force his way into private conversations. As long as he was in the Black Bull, its patrons felt that they were under surveillance. Still in uniform that evening, and with his top hat resting on the counter, he nursed a pint of beer and engaged in desultory chat with the landlord while keeping a beady eye on the door. The moment that Colbeck eventually came through it, Hepworth took a step towards him and manufactured an ingratiating smile.
‘What can I get you, Inspector?’ he invited.
‘I want nothing for the moment, thank you,’ said Colbeck, ‘but I would appreciate a word with you, Sergeant Hepworth.’
‘You can have as many as you wish, sir.’
‘Shall we sit over here?’
Colbeck indicated a table in the corner and they sat down either side of it. Stroking his beard, Hepworth cocked an ear, hoping to hear privileged information about the investigation.
‘Have you made any headway?’ he asked.
‘I think so.’
‘What have you found out?’
‘Lots of things,’ said Colbeck. ‘One of them concerns you.’
Hepworth was wary. ‘Don’t believe all the gossip you hear around here, Inspector. You know what it’s like when you wear a police uniform. You get all kinds of nasty comments.’
‘This was not gossip. It came from an impeccable source.’
‘And what has someone been saying about me?’
‘That you and the colonel once exchanged harsh words.’
‘Most of his words were harsh,’ said Hepworth, curling a lip. ‘I was one of the few people in the village with the courage to stand up to him. He treated my daughter bad. Nobody does that without hearing from me.’
‘The argument was about her dismissal, I understand.’
‘He had the gall to say that Ginny was lazy. You’ve never met a more hard-working girl. She cried for days when he threw her out of there. Well,’ he continued, nodding towards the window, ‘you’ve seen the size of the village. If someone loses her job like that, everyone knows about it and there’s not much else a girl like Ginny can do but go into domestic service. Who’ll take her on now? Ginny’s got a reputation for idleness that she just doesn’t deserve. I felt I had to point that out to the colonel.’
‘How did he respond?’
‘He told me it was none of my business.’
‘As the girl’s father, you had a legitimate interest.’
‘That’s what I said. I didn’t expect him to take her on again, of course. All that I wanted from him was a letter to say that she’d given good service. She needed a reference, Inspector.’
‘Clearly,’ said Colbeck, ‘he refused to give it.’
‘He did more than that, sir. He flew off the handle and started calling me names. He threatened to report me for insubordination, as if I was a soldier in his regiment. I wasn’t standing for that,’ growled Hepworth, eyes kindling at an unpleasant memory, ‘so I told him what I really thought about him.’
‘What happened then?’
‘He said that I should be horsewhipped for my insolence but he wasn’t stupid enough to raise a hand against me. In the end, he just stalked off. I came in here to cool down with a couple of pints.’
‘Weren’t you afraid there’d be some retaliation?’
Hepworth stuck out his chest. ‘I wasn’t afraid of anything.’
‘Did he try to get you dismissed?’
‘If he did, he failed. I’ve got an excellent record of service. They’d be idiots to part with someone of my experience.’
‘I’m sure they realised that,’ said Colbeck, with gentle sarcasm. ‘But why was there an allegation of laziness against your daughter if it wasn’t true?’
‘I think it came from that old harpy, Mrs Withers. She made my daughter work every hour that God sends. Ginny was expected to fetch, carry, wash, clean, fill this, empty that and do a dozen other chores. The girl was exhausted.’ Hepworth lowered his voice. ‘Then, of course, there was the other business.’
‘What other business, Sergeant?’
‘I told you. Ginny knew about the colonel and his housekeeper. When she realised their secret might come out, Mrs Withers invented an excuse to have Ginny dismissed.’
