‘Is that such a bad thing?’
‘You swore it’d be a secret, Wilf. You promised me.’
‘That was before.’
‘I trusted you. I don’t want people to know about us.’
He was hurt. ‘Are you ashamed?’
‘You promised me,’ she insisted. ‘It was our secret.’
Moxey was in a quandary. Infatuation with Lorna Begg made him eager to tell any amount of lies on her behalf but he had a conscience. It had reminded him that a lie under oath was a sin as well as a criminal offence. He would be questioned in public by the coroner, a man seasoned in the art of ferreting out the truth from witnesses. Even if he’d wanted to, Moxey wasn’t sure that he could lie convincingly enough. Yet he had to do so if he wanted to retain the milkmaid’s affections.
He reached out for her hand but she pulled it away.
‘What are you going to do?’ she asked, nervously.
It was the kind of journey that Victor Leeming preferred. Seated in the trap with Robert Colbeck, he felt perfectly secure and able to enjoy the sight of rolling countryside on a summer evening. There was none of the deafening noise and continual juddering of a train. This was by far the more civilised way to travel. When the house was finally conjured into view, his jaw dropped in astonishment.
‘You didn’t tell me it was that big, sir,’ he protested.
‘It’s the old manor house, Victor.’
‘I begin to see the sort of position the colonel held.’
‘People looked up to him,’ said Colbeck. ‘Wealth is always an easy way to impress. It buys respect. He had status in the county.’
‘But it wasn’t only based on money.’
‘No, he earned it in other ways as well. He also earned a good reputation. Our task is to rescue it from oblivion.’
After driving the vehicle to the stables, Colbeck alighted and took the sergeant across to the front door. The housekeeper had seen them through the window so they had no need to ring the bell. The door was opened wide. Colbeck exchanged greetings with Mrs Withers then introduced Leeming.
‘I hope you haven’t come to speak to Mrs Doel,’ she said. ‘She’s asleep at the moment. I’d rather she wasn’t awakened.’
‘It’s her brother we came to see, Mrs Withers, but I’d also like to ask you a few questions as well.’
She stood back so that they could step inside, closing the door after them. Leeming’s unbecoming features troubled her slightly so she kept her eyes fixed on Colbeck.
‘How can I help you, sir?’ she asked.
‘Before he left this house for the last time,’ Colbeck said, ‘the colonel told you he was taking a train to Doncaster.’
‘That’s correct.’
‘Had he ever done that before?’
‘I can’t remember him doing so, Inspector.’
‘Did he say why he was travelling to Doncaster?’
‘But he wasn’t,’ she pointed out. ‘That was only an excuse. As we know, he didn’t catch the train at all.’
‘Not on that occasion, I agree. Think of others. When he went somewhere by rail, did he always tell you what his destination was?’
‘No, sir, the colonel didn’t. All I knew was the time when he was likely to return so that everything was ready for him. He only told me what I needed to know.’
‘So the mention of Doncaster was unusual?’
‘It was very unusual. I’d have been less surprised if he’d said he was going to York or somewhere like that. But, then, it wasn’t my place to question his movements.’
‘I suppose not,’ said Colbeck. ‘Does the name Michael Bruntcliffe mean anything to you?’
Her face clouded. ‘Yes, it does.’
‘Well?’
‘The colonel spoke harshly about him.’
‘Did you ever see Bruntcliffe here?’
‘Only the once, Inspector,’ she replied. ‘It was years ago when the colonel and Mrs Tarleton were in Sussex. Young Mr Tarleton was still here then. I kept out of their way.’
‘How would you describe Bruntcliffe?’ asked Leeming.
‘He seemed a personable young man,’ she said, trying to recall an image in her mind. ‘Some might call him handsome. He was tall and well dressed. Oh, and he had long, black hair that curled at the ends. That’s all I can say, really.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Withers,’ said Colbeck. ‘We’re really here to see young Mr Tarleton. I assume that he’s at home.’
‘He is now, Inspector. He was out riding all afternoon and came back a short while ago. I’ll take you to him now.’ She looked sheepish. ‘I had to give him the key, sir. He’s the master now.’
Expecting to be conducted to the drawing room or the library, the visitors were instead taken to the room where the firearms were kept. The housekeeper knocked, entered, then explained to Tarleton that the detectives wished to speak to him. She retreated before she was told to leave. Colbeck introduced Leeming, who was agog at the weaponry that had been amassed. Tarleton was holding the Purdey shotgun with his stepfather’s initials carved into the stock. He replaced it in the cabinet.
‘That was the colonel’s favourite,’ observed Colbeck. ‘Did you intend to go out shooting?’
‘No,’ said Tarleton. ‘I was just wondering how much money it would fetch. A tidy amount, I hope.’
‘Are you thinking of selling it, sir?’
‘Well, I can hardly keep everything here, can I? What use is it to me when I go back to London? I’ll have to get it valued.’
‘I think you should wait before you do that, sir,’ said Leeming, surprised that Tarleton was not in mourning apparel. ‘The will has to be read first. You have to be sure that these items are yours to sell.’
‘Well, they’d hardly be left to my sister, would they?’
‘The sergeant makes a valid point,’ said Colbeck. ‘Since your stepfather wouldn’t even let you handle the firearms, he might have left them to one of the friends who joined him on shooting parties.’
Tarleton scowled. ‘He might have done just that,’ he said, stung by the notion, ‘if only out of spite. If that’s the case, I’ll contest the will. All this is mine.’
‘Be that as it may, sir. Now, would you rather we had this conversation in the drawing room or are you happy to talk to us here?’
‘This is as good a place as any, Inspector.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ said Leeming under his breath, gazing at a pike and imagining the fearful wounds it could inflict. Aloud, he said, ‘You saw very little of your parents in recent times, I believe, sir.’
‘My mother was my only living parent,’ corrected Tarleton. ‘I could never accept the colonel as my father. As it was, I drifted apart from both of them in the end.’
‘So you loved your mother and resented your stepfather?’
‘It was rather more complicated than that, Sergeant, and I’ve no intention of explaining why.’
‘That’s your privilege, Mr Tarleton.’
‘If you loved your mother,’ said Colbeck, ‘why didn’t you join the search for her when she went missing?’
‘I had no idea that she’d gone astray,’ said Tarleton. ‘I told you. We’d lost touch. I was trying to make my own way in life.’
‘Had you lost touch with your sister as well?’
‘Not to the same extent.’
‘Didn’t she contact you about your mother’s disappearance?’
‘Eve wrote to my last known address but I’d moved twice since then. The first time I heard about Mother vanishing was when I read a newspaper report about my stepfather’s suicide.’
‘What did you do then, sir?’
