‘It was something I had to do on my own.’
‘Why?’
‘I had to take my leave of her.’
‘Well, I still think you suffered unnecessary pain. The time to pay your respects is at the funeral. Miriam had already been formally identified by her son. That was enough. She wouldn’t have wanted you to see her in that condition.’
‘No,’ she conceded, ‘that’s probably true.’
He put his arms around her. ‘How do you feel now?’
‘I feel a lot better. When I left the undertaker’s, I was in a complete daze. I almost got run over by a cart when I crossed the High Street. All I could think about was getting here to you.’
‘You did the right thing,’ he soothed. ‘You’re always the first to comfort others, but there are times when you need consolation as well.’
‘I discovered that.’
Releasing her, he stood back. ‘There’ll be a big hole in our lives from now on, Agnes.’
‘I’m well aware of that.’
‘We’ll have to find someone else with whom to play cards.’
‘Aubrey and Miriam were much more than mere card players,’ she said, stung by the remark. ‘They were our closest friends. We were practically aunt and uncle to the children.’
‘To Eve, maybe – she was more approachable. I don’t feel that we were ever wholly accepted by Adam. We were too respectable for him. He had the fire of youth in his veins and wanted to run wild. Some might say that that was only natural.’
‘Did you ever feel like that, Bertram?’
He grinned. ‘It’s such a long time ago that I can’t remember. I like to think that I wasn’t as obnoxious as Adam Tarleton but, then, that would be a tall order. No,’ he said after consideration, ‘I never did try to kick over the traces. As a young man, I fear, I was ridiculously well behaved.’
‘There’s nothing ridiculous in good breeding.’
‘I suppose not.’
‘Your good character has been the foundation of your career.’
‘Yes, one must never forget that.’
She glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘I’ve taken up far too much of your time.’
‘You could never do that, Agnes.’
‘I’ll let you get on with your work.’
‘Are you sure that you feel well enough to go?’
‘I think so.’
‘I could always finish early for once and get Ferris to close the bank for me. What’s the point of having a deputy manager if I don’t make use of him?’
‘No,’ she said, ‘you stay here. I’d appreciate a little time on my own. I’ve a lot to think about. By the time you get home, I’ll be in a better frame of mind. But thank you, Bertram,’ she said, planting a token kiss on his cheek. ‘When I most needed support, you were here to help me.’
‘That’s what husbands are for, my dear.’ He took her by the shoulders. ‘I mourn them as well, you know. I loved them both dearly. Aubrey and Miriam were such an important part of our life.’ He stifled a sigh. ‘I’d give anything to have them back here again.’
Colbeck read the broadside with a mingled sadness and revulsion. Its crude verses both mocked and accused an innocent man who was in no position to defend himself. Unlike Tallis before him, Colbeck read Railway to the Grave through to the end.
‘I’m sorry it’s so crumpled, Inspector,’ said Clifford Everett. ‘When I showed it to the superintendent, he screwed it up into a ball.’
Colbeck handed the paper back to him. ‘I’m not surprised, sir. Mr Tallis knew that his friend had nothing whatsoever to do with the murder of his wife.’
‘That’s not what people around here think.’
‘How can they when they’re being fed that kind of defamatory nonsense? That broadside tells them what they want to believe. There’ll be a lot of red faces when their ignorance is finally dispelled. People will feel thoroughly ashamed at thinking such abominable things of a decent man.’
‘I hope that the fiend who wrote those malign verses will be among them.’
‘Then you hope in vain, Mr Everett. He’ll be too busy counting the money he made out of selling his wares. It was ever thus,’ said Colbeck with asperity. ‘When a murder is committed, there are always self-appointed poets who descend out of the sky like vultures. They’ll pick the bones of anyone’s reputation as long at it serves their purpose. Once there’s no more profit to be made, they’ll sneak off with their blood money.’
‘Do you really believe you can clear the colonel’s name?’
‘I haven’t the slightest doubt, sir. All that I have to do is to catch the man who really did murder Mrs Tarleton and that person is already starting to take shape in my mind.’
‘I’m heartened to hear it.’
It was a warm day and, even though the window of his office was open, Everett was perspiring. A wet line decorated the top of his collar and his tufts of hair looked as if they’d been recently irrigated. The lawyer fidgeted with some papers on his desk, rearranging them needlessly. His piggy eyes were dull.
‘Have you ever been to Doncaster?’ asked Colbeck.
‘I’ve got too much sense,’ replied Everett with disdain. ‘Who in his right mind would go there? It’s a railway town and that means smoke and noise and general filth. I’ve seen all I need to see of Doncaster through the window of a train. Why do you ask?’
‘The colonel used to go there.’
‘Really? I didn’t know that.’
‘That’s a pity. I was hoping you could explain why he went there on a regular basis at one time. It does seem an unlikely destination for a fastidious man such as the colonel.’
‘He might have had relations there, of course, or friends.’
‘Then why did he suddenly stop going? I’m told that his visits came to an abrupt end well over a year ago. Yet the odd thing is that, when he left the house for the last time, he told Mrs Withers that he was catching a train to Doncaster.’
‘Given what happened, that was a grotesque euphemism.’
‘Perhaps the housekeeper can enlighten me.’
‘Perhaps she can,’ said Everett, shuffling some papers again. ‘As to your request, Inspector, you didn’t really give me a great deal of time to gather the relevant data.’
‘I apologise for that, sir.’
‘Nevertheless, I was able to rustle something up at short notice.’
‘That sounds promising.’
‘It helps that the prison is right here in Northallerton. I sent one of my clerks over there. He came back with the names of three people who’ve been released in the past couple of months.’
‘Were they all sentenced by the colonel?’
‘They were indeed,’ said Everett, glancing at a sheet of paper before him. ‘The first man was Douglas McCaw but you can rule him out of your calculations. He’s already back in prison for another offence altogether.’
‘Who were the others?’
‘One was Harry Keedy. He served a short sentence for poaching. He’s an old man now and suffered a mild stroke while in prison. I don’t think he’d pose much of a threat to anyone. That leaves us,’ he went on, tapping the paper with a chubby finger, ‘with a much more interesting individual – Michael Bruntcliffe.’
‘That name sounds familiar.’
‘It should do. If you came here by train, you’ll have passed Bruntcliffe’s Flour Mills. It’s a moneyed family so Michael wants for nothing. Yet he’s been a thorn in his father’s side for years. Fraud, petty theft, drunkenness, criminal damage – he has quite a long record. When he was last hauled up before the magistrates,’ said Everett, ‘the colonel gave him the maximum sentence for defacing some of the signs at the railway station with paint. It was only horseplay but Bruntcliffe paid dearly for it.’
