absconded with two thousand pounds that was never repaid.’
‘You’re back home now, that’s the important thing.’
‘What have you been doing?’
‘I’ve been thinking about this and that.’
‘Have you been brooding again?’ he asked, taking her by the shoulders. ‘You mustn’t keep blaming yourself.’
‘But if Miriam hadn’t been coming here…’
‘How many times must I say it? You did nothing wrong.’
‘Then why do I feel so guilty?’
‘It’s because you’re a dear, lovely, caring woman. I have my share of guilt, you know. If I hadn’t been with a client that day, you could have summoned me from my office to begin the search. I let you down and, indirectly, I let Miriam down.’
‘You weren’t to know, Bertram.’
‘Exactly,’ he said, taking his hands away. ‘I wasn’t to know any more than you were. We can’t be held responsible for what happened. It was a terrible tragedy but it can’t be laid at our door.’
‘You’re right.’
‘Then remember that I’m right,’ he said with mock sternness.
When they moved to the sofa and sat down, he noticed a piece of paper on the table beside her. Seeing his interest, she picked it up and passed it over to him. Reader studied the long list of names his wife had compiled.
‘I didn’t spend all my time brooding,’ she said.
‘Who are all these people?’
‘They’re murder suspects.’
He was offended. ‘Do you mind?’ he said with mild outrage. ‘My name is down here.’
‘And so is mine, Bertram.’
‘What do we have to do – confess?’
‘Don’t be silly,’ she scolded. ‘I’ve tried to be useful. Every person on that list knew that Miriam would be coming to see me that day. They could have planned an ambush.’
‘You’ve got well over twenty names here,’ he said.
‘That’s the trouble. There were so many of us. Clifford Everett is one of them, though I ought to exclude him because he’s the least likely person to have committed a murder.’
He examined the list. ‘There’s something you’ve forgotten, Agnes. Anyone on this list could inadvertently have mentioned that Miriam came to Northallerton on a particular day. Sharp ears might have picked up the information. Or there’s something else we ought to consider,’ he went on. ‘The culprit may simply have watched Miriam for weeks beforehand and seen a pattern emerge. Inspector Colbeck said that calculation was involved.’
‘Are you telling me that my list is useless?’
‘No, no – simply that it’s not comprehensive.’
‘Oh dear!’ she said, forlornly. ‘I wasted my time.’
‘Don’t think that,’ he urged. ‘It was a very useful exercise and the villain may well be hidden somewhere in that list. I think that I should show it to the inspector.’
‘Very well, Bertram – please do that.’
He looked at her fondly. Though she was still in mourning attire, he was glad to see that she was not as pale and distraught as she had been. There were no visible signs of another bout of sustained weeping. Agnes was composed and dignified. He was reassured. As he let his gaze drift to the mantelpiece, he noticed a card that hadn’t been there before. He got up from the sofa.
‘What’s that?’ he asked.
‘It came this morning,’ she replied.
‘Who sent it?’
The question was answered when he saw the name at the bottom of the message inscribed inside the card. As he read it, his body tensed and his face hardened.
‘Is something wrong?’ she asked, noting the sudden change in his demeanour.
‘It is, my dear,’ he said, moving to the door. ‘You’ll have to excuse me. I have to find Inspector Colbeck as soon as I can.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
One of the first things that Victor Leeming had learnt when he joined the Detective Department was that perseverance was a virtue. No matter how intractable a murder case might seem at first, it could always be solved, he was told, by a blend of patience and tenacity. A day spent largely on his feet had made the sergeant question the dictum. While he remained as tenacious as ever, his patience was wearing thin. The visit to Doncaster had brought what he considered to be a marginal success but the search for Michael Bruntcliffe was a story of sustained failure. His starting point had been the family of the released prisoner but they’d been able to give him scant help. While the mother still yearned for him to come home and mend his ways, the father had abandoned all hope of his doing so and wished never to see his son again.
What the parents were able to give Leeming, however, were the names and addresses of some friends of Bruntcliffe. The sergeant’s perambulation around Northallerton began in earnest. He went from house to house, only to be met by the same response. Bruntcliffe’s former friends all claimed that they were merely acquaintances and tried to distance themselves from someone who’d ended up in prison and brought disgrace to the family name. While nobody could say where Bruntcliffe was, the general feeling was that he wouldn’t be too far away. His first move on release, they all agreed, would be to search for amenable female company. Leeming managed to elicit the names of three young ladies who’d been close to Bruntcliffe in the past.
That set him off on the next stage of his journey. Since none of the trio lived in the town, he had to hire a trap in order to drive out to the respective houses where they lived. For a man like the sergeant, questioning a young lady about an emotional attachment they once had was highly embarrassing. Leeming had married the only woman he’d ever loved and had never been tempted to stray. He was therefore shocked to learn that Bruntcliffe had dallied with three beautiful women without the slightest intention of proposing marriage to any of them. It had left all three with a deep reservoir of bitterness. The first hotly denied ever knowing Bruntcliffe, the second was horrified that what had been a clandestine relationship was now the subject of police interest and the third, daughter of a minor aristocrat, was so indignant at being asked such personal questions that she ordered the butler to show Leeming out. All that the sergeant had to show for driving many unproductive miles in unfamiliar countryside was a bill from the man who’d provided the horse and trap.
When he finally caught the train back to South Otterington, he found Colbeck waiting for him at the Black Bull. Each told the other what their day had so far yielded. Leeming seized on a threat.
‘Superintendent Tallis is coming here?’ he cried.
‘I did my best to dissuade him.’
‘We’ll be here for ever if he takes charge. I’ll never get home to Estelle and the children.’
‘There is one way to head the superintendent off,’ said Colbeck, ‘and that’s to solve the murder by Monday.’
Leeming goggled. ‘We can’t do that, sir. We seem to be going around in circles. I’ve spent all morning and most of the afternoon hard at work and I’ve come back empty-handed.’
‘Don’t be so defeatist, Victor. You brought back the name of this gentleman from Doncaster. He may unwittingly have some useful evidence for us. As for Michael Bruntcliffe,’ he continued, ‘you found out a great deal more about our prime suspect than we knew before.’
‘He was a philanderer,’ said Leeming with revulsion. ‘I met three of his victims and I suspect there were many others.’
Colbeck was thoughtful. ‘A successful philanderer must have two attributes – charm and money. We know
