‘Good afternoon, gentlemen,’ he said, closing the door behind him. ‘You sent for me, I hear.’
‘Come and sit down, Sergeant,’ invited Colbeck.
‘Thank you, sir.’
He lowered himself into the chair opposite them, grinning broadly like a new confederate admitted to a conspiracy. Rubbing his hands, he waited to be let in on the secret.
‘Your daughter can obviously deliver a message,’ said Leeming.
‘Ginny is a clever girl.’
‘What about your lad?’
‘She had most of the brains. Sam had what little was left.’
‘We’ve made an arrest,’ Colbeck told him.
Hepworth cocked an ear. ‘Was it Michael Bruntcliffe?’
‘Yes, it was.’
‘I thought it would be. Where did you find him?’
‘He was staying in a cottage the other side of Bedale. He made a complete confession. He’s locked up in Northallerton now.’
‘So the murder is solved now, is it, Inspector?’
‘Oh, no, we’re still hunting the killer.’
‘But you’ve just arrested Bruntcliffe,’ said Hepworth, confused.
‘That was on two lesser charges,’ said Colbeck. ‘In the course of last night, he slipped into the churchyard and, with the assistance of his horse, he toppled that large stone cross paid for by the colonel. Luckily, we got there early enough this morning to put it back into place with the help of a farmer.’
‘It was like a ton weight,’ recalled Leeming.
‘Most of the congregation were unaware of what had happened. I had a quiet word with the curate afterwards and he promised to get a mason to secure the cross at its base. Incidentally,’ said Colbeck, ‘we met your son in the churchyard. He was playing with toy soldiers.’
‘Except that they were actually cartridges,’ said Leeming with a meaningful glance at Hepworth. ‘Sam told us he collects them.’
‘That’s right,’ admitted Hepworth, warily. ‘It keeps him occupied. He wants to join the army one day but I doubt if they’d take him.’ When he leant forward, his beard touched the table. ‘Is that all you charged Bruntcliffe with?’
‘Causing damage to church property is a serious offence,’ said Colbeck. ‘He’s bought himself a ticket straight back to prison. His sentence will be lengthened when he pleads guilty to a second offence.’
‘What’s that, Inspector?’
‘Sending anonymous letters to the colonel, full of libellous material and designed to cause him distress. In short, helping to unbalance his mind and drive him to take his own life.’
‘I thought you’d already arrested someone for that.’
‘We have,’ said Colbeck, ‘but he wasn’t the only correspondent. There were a number of evil-minded people who got pleasure from kicking Colonel Tarleton when he was down, as it were. What’s your opinion of such individuals, Sergeant Hepworth?’
‘They’re despicable,’ insisted Leeming, ‘and they should be prosecuted with the full rigour of the law.’
‘I agree,’ said Hepworth, half-heartedly, drawing back in his seat. ‘It’s a spiteful thing to do.’
‘It’s spiteful and it’s cowardly,’ Colbeck went on. ‘If someone had an accusation to hurl at the colonel, they should have done so to his face. Well, that’s what you did when he dismissed your daughter.’
‘I did, Inspector. He deserved it. I didn’t beat about the bush. When I had that argument with him, I came straight to the point.’
‘And you did the same in your letters to him, didn’t you?’
Hepworth tensed. ‘What letters?’
‘The letters you never signed.’
‘It’s an arrant lie!’ yelled the other. ‘I didn’t send any letters.’
‘Then the girl must have been mistaken,’ said Colbeck, making it up as he went along. ‘Lottie Pearl sleeps in an attic room at the top of the house. She swears that she saw your daughter, Ginny, sneak up to the house at night and post a letter through the door.’
‘Lottie was seeing things.’
‘Then we’ll have to rely on the testimony of Mrs Withers. She knows that secret path from the village to the house. According to her, Ginny emerged from it one night with something in her hand.’
Hepworth snarled. ‘How could they see anything in the dark?’
‘That’s a fair point, Sergeant, so it would be wrong to accuse you on the basis of what they claim. Besides, it’s not necessary. We still have the letters in question. All we have to do,’ he went on, indicating the writing materials, ‘is to ask you to pen a few lines that we can compare with the handwriting on those particular letters.’ He turned to Leeming. ‘How many were there, Victor?’
‘Three, sir.’
‘Of the people who wrote, this anonymous author was the only one who charged the colonel with having improper conduct with his housekeeper.’ He smiled at Hepworth. ‘Wasn’t that the very claim you made in our hearing, Sergeant?’ He pushed the inkwell in front of him. ‘Write something for us, please.’
‘You can’t make me do this,’ said Hepworth, defiantly.
‘It’s true – we can’t force you. But, then, we don’t need to.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘We simply have to speak to your employers,’ said Colbeck. ‘You no doubt send in regular reports so there’ll be plenty of examples of your handwriting. When you are sentenced in court, the judge will take into consideration the fact that you refused to cooperate once your subterfuge had been exposed.’
‘You didn’t even have the courage to deliver the letters yourself,’ said Leeming with derision. ‘You implicated your own child.’
‘Ginny offered,’ said Hepworth, reeling back in horror at his unintended confession. ‘Look,’ he went on with a nervous laugh, ‘why don’t I buy you a drink and we can forget all about this? The colonel is dead. Nothing that anyone wrote about him can hurt him now.’
‘It can hurt his children,’ Colbeck pointed out. ‘It can disgust his friends, Superintendent Tallis among them. Let’s have the truth, Sergeant Hepworth, or it will be the worse for you. You’ve more or less admitted that you wrote those three letters, didn’t you? That’s what you can write on the paper.’ He put a sheet in front of him. ‘If we have a confession, it will save a great deal of time in court and spare you from further humiliation.’ He held out the pen. ‘Take it. Write something that you’re actually brave enough to sign.’
Hepworth was in a panic. ‘Don’t take me to court,’ he begged. ‘I’ve got a wife and children to support. Ginny can’t find work and, if you’ve met Sam, you’ll have seen that he’s something of a halfwit. Yes, I confess that I did dash off a few lines to the colonel but only because I was still angry at him. We all write things on impulse that we regret afterwards.’
‘Not three times in a row,’ said Leeming.
‘I’m a policeman – one of your own.’
‘You’d never get into the Metropolitan Police Force.’
‘I’ve got a position here,’ said Hepworth. ‘I’m respected.’
‘Not by me, Sergeant.’
‘Nor by me,’ said Colbeck. ‘Someone who sends poison-pen letters to a bereaved husband doesn’t deserve respect. You’re a disgrace to that uniform.’
‘I’m sorry,’ bleated Hepworth. ‘I didn’t mean to do it.’
‘Think of the searing pain your letters gave to the colonel.’
‘It was wrong of me, Inspector. I feel so guilty about it.’
‘I haven’t seen any signs of guilt.’
‘Give me a chance, I implore you.’
‘You’ll have a lot to do to redeem yourself.’
‘I’ll do anything you say,’ promised Hepworth, ‘only please don’t ruin me. I couldn’t bear it if you sent me to prison.’
