what we could do with the money.’ Releasing her, he stood aside and indicated the door. ‘If you’re too scared to be my woman any more, you can walk out right now. Is that what you want to do, Josie? Make up your mind.’
It took her an instant to do so. She started to undress.
‘Let’s go to bed,’ she decided.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Expecting to report to the superintendent the moment he returned from Brighton that evening, Robert Colbeck discovered that Tallis was in a meeting with the Commissioner, defending his officers against the jibes made about them in the newspaper and trying to justify the time and money allotted to the investigation. Colbeck instead invited Victor Leeming into his office to tell him what he had learnt in the course of his trip to the south coast. Before the inspector could speak, however, Leeming blurted out his own news.
‘I arrested Matthew Shanklin,’ he said, proudly.
‘Did the handwriting match?’
‘Yes, Inspector – he admitted sending that funeral card.’
‘Is he still in custody?’
‘No – he’s been released on bail.’
Colbeck was staggered. ‘For a crime of this magnitude?’
‘Mr Shanklin had nothing to do with the train crash, sir.’
‘Are you sure of that, Victor? I was beginning to feel certain that he and Chiffney were working in partnership.’
Leeming told him the full story, pointing out that he would much sooner face questioning by Colbeck than submit to the kind of badgering interrogation perfected by Tallis. In sending the funeral card, Shanklin was guilty of malicious behaviour designed to inflict pain on a man he despised. Beyond that, no other charges could be brought against him.
It was a setback for Colbeck. Disappointed that Shanklin was innocent of any part in the crime on the Brighton line, he was at least glad that he had been flushed out into the open. One name could now be eliminated from the major inquiry. The problem was that it left them with only a single suspect.
‘Did Mr Shanklin tell you where he’d been today?’ said Colbeck.
‘He claimed that he’d taken the day off to visit friends.’
‘That was an arrant lie.’
‘I know that he went somewhere by train because the cab driver remembered picking him up at a railway station.’
‘He’d been to Brighton. Far from visiting friends, he was there to call on his sworn enemy, Horace Bardwell.’
‘How do you know?’ asked Leeming.
‘I looked in at the hospital before I left,’ said Colbeck. ‘I wanted to see how Mr Bardwell and some of the other survivors were faring. Shanklin, apparently, came into the ward in order to gloat over Mr Bardwell. From what I could gather, there was quite a scene. Mr Bardwell was so upset that he had to be sedated for a while.’
‘That ought to be mentioned when Shanklin comes to court.’
‘It will be, Victor. I’ll make sure of it.’
‘What else did you find out in Brighton?’
‘A great deal – it’s difficult to know where to start.’
Colbeck told him about meeting Giles Thornhill, spending time with Sidney Weaver and taking tea with Ezra Follis. He also talked about the visit to the gunsmith. Leeming was puzzled.
‘Why did you advise Mr Thornhill to speak tomorrow?’ he said.
‘It’s the only way to bring our assassin out of hiding. As long as the man is at liberty, Mr Thornhill’s life is in constant danger.’
‘But you’re putting him in even more danger by urging him to speak in a public meeting, sir. He could be shot dead on the platform.’
‘I think that highly unlikely, Victor,’ said Colbeck.
‘Why is that, sir?’
‘Put yourself in the position of the man with the rifle.’
‘Could his name be Dick Chiffney?’
‘In all probability, it is. Imagine that you were stalking Mr Thornhill. When you see an advertisement for a public meeting addressed by him, what would you do?’
‘Sit at the back of the hall and wait for the right moment.’
Colbeck grinned. ‘You’d never make an assassin, I’m afraid.’
‘Wouldn’t I?’
‘No, Victor – the first thing you need to do is to conceal your identity. How can you do that if you appear in public? You’ll be seen by people who can give an accurate description of you. Also, of course, there’s the small matter of making an escape from the hall. You could well be chased by some public-spirited citizen.’
‘All right,’ said Leeming, deflated, ‘tell me what you’d do.’
‘I wouldn’t let Mr Thornhill get anywhere near the hall.’
‘Then where would you kill him?’
‘Near the house,’ said Colbeck. ‘It’s more private and would save me the trouble of shooting over other people’s heads in the hall. The man we’re after has been inside the grounds before, remember. He knows how to find his way around.’
‘But you told me the estate was well guarded.’
‘It is at the moment. Very few men will be on duty tomorrow.’
‘Has Mr Thornhill agreed to make that speech?’
‘He’s giving it serious thought, Victor.’
‘If he refuses to go,’ said Leeming, ‘then your plan will have no chance at all of success.’
‘Oh, I don’t think he’ll refuse somehow.’
‘Why is that, Inspector?’
‘Pride is at stake,’ explained Colbeck. ‘If Giles Thornhill is not available tomorrow, he’ll have to yield the platform to a man he dislikes intensely and I can’t see him doing that.’
‘Who is the man?’
‘The Rector of St Dunstan’s.’
Ezra Follis rose at his habitual early hour and shaved with care in order to avoid the scratches on his cheeks. Tiring of the bandaging around his head, he ignored the doctor’s advice and unwound it to reveal some gashes on his forehead. There were wounds in his scalp as well but he could not see them in the mirror and they had ceased to remind him of their presence. Now that he had discarded the bandaging, he felt much better. After dressing in his bedroom, he took a smoking cap from the wardrobe and put it on. Follis did not, in fact, smoke but the cap had been a gift from the female parishioner who had made it for him and he did not have the heart to refuse it.
When he came down for breakfast, Mrs Ashmore was already busy in the kitchen. They exchanged greetings, commented on the weather then discussed the day’s commitments. It was only when the housekeeper finally turned round that she saw what he had done.
‘You’ve taken it off,’ she scolded.
‘It was like having my head in a vice.’
‘Doctor Lentle will be very cross with you.’
‘Only if he finds out what I’ve done,’ said Follis, ‘and I know I can count on you not to tell him. Besides, I’ve finally found a use for this cap that Mrs Gregory made for me. How does it look?’
‘Very becoming,’ said the housekeeper.
‘Do you think I should take up smoking?’
She was stern. ‘No, Mr Follis, it will make a stink. My husband used to smoke and the smell was terrible. I think that pipe of his was one of the things that took him away before his time. He had this awful hacking cough.’
‘Yet it didn’t stop him smoking.’
