Timetable of Death (22 page)

‘I think I can guess what it is, Inspector,’ said Cope. ‘Give me a moment and I’ll arrange for your wish to be fulfilled.’

‘What’s this about a wish?’ asked Tallis.

After removing his hat and his coat, Colbeck handed them to him.

‘Please look after those for me, Superintendent.’

‘Where are you going, man?’

‘You’ll soon see.’

A locomotive had been driven onto the turntable and stood there throbbing with latent power. Cope was speaking to the fireman who gave an affirmative nod. It was the signal for Colbeck to hurry over to them. After taking instructions, he and the fireman went to one side of the turntable while two other railwaymen went to the other. After rocking the vast wheel to and fro for a little while, they put all their strength into a heave. To the amazement of the watching Tallis, four men were making a locomotive of immense weight turn as if it were made of paper. They pushed on until it had completed a semicircle then locked it into position so that it could drive frontwards out of the shed again. Colbeck was overjoyed to have been part of the operation. Ignoring the fact that the fireman’s hand was covered in coal dust, he shook it gratefully.

Tallis was both bewildered and annoyed, mystified by what Colbeck had done and infuriated that he was holding the inspector’s hat and coat. There was worse to come. A steam whistle suddenly went off only yards away and Tallis was so startled that he took a few injudicious steps away, only to get his foot jammed under a rail and to fall backwards on the ground. His yell of anguish brought Colbeck running over to him. Picking up his discarded hat and coat, he bent over the superintendent.

‘Are you all right, sir?’ he enquired.

‘No, I’m not,’ howled Tallis. ‘Thanks to you, I may have broken my ankle. Why did you ever bring me to this hellhole?’

‘The visit has paid a handsome dividend, sir.’

‘Is that how to describe my injury?’

‘Didn’t you see what happened?’ asked Colbeck with controlled excitement. ‘I just discovered how to solve this murder.’

It was strange. Lydia Quayle had been living in London for a few years yet nobody in her family asked her about the sort of existence she led there. Their minds were instead fixed on the murder inquiry and on the imminent funeral of the victim. Even her mother showed no curiosity in where she’d been and what she’d been doing. The mood in the house was sombre. Faces were drawn and voices low. Lydia found it oppressive. Having left her sister alone for so long with their mother, Agnes began to feel territorial, insisting that it was her place to maintain the bedside vigil and refusing to be supplanted by Lydia. She therefore returned to her accustomed position and left her sister free to reacquaint herself with her brothers. Before she did that, Lydia made her way to her father’s study so that she could look at the portrait of the man who’d become such an ogre in her perception. Almost bursting out of the gilt frame, Vivian Quayle seemed horribly lifelike with his abiding sense of achievement and his air of unassailable confidence. Even
though she knew that he was dead, Lydia felt a cold hand run down her spine.

She was struck anew by the incongruity of a room with many bookshelves yet few books. It was so different from the well-kept library that she shared with Beatrice Myler in London. There was no place for paintings or decorative objects there. Every shelf was occupied by a book of some sort and piles of them stood on the table and on the window sill. Beatrice was far too self-effacing even to consider the idea of having her portrait painted. Lydia’s father, by contrast, filled the room with his personality.

‘What are you doing in here?’ asked Lucas.

He’d entered so quietly that she twitched in surprise at the sound of his voice.

‘I’m sorry, Lydia. I didn’t mean to give you a shock.’

‘Being back in this house has given me a series of shocks, Lucas.’

‘There haven’t been many changes.’

‘In my opinion, there have been lots. It may look the same to you but it seems vastly bigger than I remember. That could be because I’ve been used to a much smaller house, of course. It’s gloomier and less welcoming here than in the past. Then there’s mother,’ she said with a note of self-reproach. ‘That’s the major change. If I’d know she was so unwell, I’d have come sooner.’

‘I did urge you to do that in my letter.’

‘I’m ashamed to say that I didn’t even read it properly. Father was alive then and … well, let’s just say that his presence kept me away.’

‘We missed you, Lydia.’

‘You did – and I’m grateful for that. Stanley would
never have bothered to track me down and Agnes is already showing signs of her old envy.’

He took her by the shoulders and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

‘It’s a tonic to see you again.’

‘Thank you, Lucas.’

‘I wish we could have met in other circumstances.’

‘That would have been impossible,’ she explained. ‘It took a dreadful event like this to bring me back. I’d never have returned to Father’s deathbed. I’m here for the family, not for his sake.’

‘I understand.’

‘I don’t think that you do, Lucas.’

‘Then
make
me understand.’

‘I didn’t come to burden you with my troubles. I just want to take my place alongside you all during this time of trial.’

‘We’re delighted to see you,’ he said, releasing her. ‘Stanley may appear distant but he’s always had difficulty showing his emotions. In her own way, I’m certain, Agnes still loves you enough to want you here. As for Mother …’

‘What does the doctor say about her?’

‘He’s not very sanguine.’

‘She seems to have shrunk and lost all her spirit.’

Lucas nodded. ‘It’s only a matter of time.’

In the wake of the visit to the Derby Works, the priority was to get medical attention for Edward Tallis. He was evidently in distress and could not place much weight on one foot. Maurice Cope felt obscurely responsible for the mishap and wanted to make amends. He sent for a doctor to attend the
patient then helped Colbeck to support the superintendent as he was taken to an office. Cope withdrew and left them alone. Tallis was in obvious pain but bore it well. His anger was reserved for the blast of the steam whistle that had caused the accident.

‘It’s my own fault,’ he confessed. ‘I should never have been misguided enough to go into that mechanical Hades. It was one long, cruel, ear-splitting obstacle course.’

‘One has to keep one’s eyes peeled,’ said Colbeck.

‘I only came because it gave me an opportunity to appraise Haygarth and that cringing, over-polite henchman of his. I endorse your opinion of both of them.’

‘Let’s not worry about that now, sir. Your injury takes precedence.’

‘I’ve had far worse.’

‘Indeed, you have, Superintendent. In Exeter, you were stabbed in the arm.’

‘Such things happen in the line of duty.’

Though Tallis was trying to brush the incident aside, Colbeck remembered the bravery he’d shown in trying to foil the escape of a prisoner. On that occasion, too, the superintendent had been more concerned with the inconvenience caused by the injury than the associated pain.

‘You forget that I was in the army,’ said Tallis. ‘One is almost bound to suffer injuries in action. Like any trained soldier, I learnt to shrug them off.’

‘You’re much older now, sir.’

‘What’s that got to do with it?’

‘Nothing,’ said Colbeck, seeing his eyes flash. ‘Nothing at all.’

Cope popped into the room to see if the patient was comfortable and to issue another string of apologies that the accident had occurred. Since he’d been in charge of showing the two men around, he felt that he was partly to blame. After treating them both to an ingratiating smile, Cope went out again.

‘Thank heavens he’s gone,’ said Tallis. ‘I hate sycophancy.’

‘I undertake never to lapse into it,’ promised Colbeck with a smile.

‘Are you being ironic?’

‘It’s wholly foreign to my nature, sir.’

‘Poppycock!’

‘We haven’t really discussed your visit to Melbourne,’ said Colbeck, changing his tack. ‘What was your estimate of Gerard Burns?’

‘He was shifty and disrespectful. I’m fairly certain he’s the killer.’

‘Why didn’t you place him under arrest?’

‘I chose to stand off for a while,’ explained Tallis. ‘It transpires that the prime minister is arriving to stay at the house in a few days’ time, and he is justifiably proud of his gardens. I didn’t wish to incur Lord Palmerston’s displeasure by putting his head gardener in custody when we don’t yet have enough evidence for a jury to convict Burns.’

‘I’ll keep looking for that evidence, sir.’

‘You’ll have to, Inspector. I can’t dash around the countryside here. I need to be back in London with my foot up.’

‘That’s the best place for you,’ said Colbeck, suffused with a sense of relief.

‘You sound as if you’re
glad
that I had that accident.’

‘Then the pain may have distorted your hearing, Superintendent.’

It was not long before Cope entered with the doctor he’d summoned earlier. Colbeck took the opportunity to slip out and make his way quickly back to the hotel. Arriving in haste, he almost bounded up the stairs. When he let himself into his room, he expected a greeting from Madeleine but he was disappointed. Stretched out on the bed, she was fast asleep.

On his way back to the railway station, Victor Leeming caught sight of the vicar, talking to Superintendent Wigg. He waited until the conversation had finished. When the vicar walked away, Leeming moved in swiftly to intercept the other man. His attitude to the two superintendents was markedly different. While he tended to cower in front of Tallis, he was prepared to be more outspoken with Elijah Wigg.

‘What brings you here?’ he asked.

‘Someone has to solve this crime, Sergeant, and – for all your credentials – you and the inspector seem wholly unequal to the task.’

‘That’s because we’ve had so little help from the local constabulary.’

‘We can’t help if you don’t take us into your confidence.’

‘You know every move we’ve made, Superintendent.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Wigg, ‘but only because I’ve had reports from my men. Neither you nor Inspector Colbeck have had the courtesy to keep me abreast of every new initiative you’ve taken.’

‘Events sometimes move too fast for us to do that.’

‘That’s a lame excuse, Sergeant.’

Leeming was irritated. ‘When we need you, sir, we’ll call on you.’

‘And how long will it be before that happens?’ asked the other, teasingly. ‘My feeling is that time is running out for you. Haygarth’s patience will soon be exhausted. He’ll see that it was a mistake to bring you from London and he’ll hand the case over to someone who knows this county and its people far better than you ever could.’

‘You are right about that, Superintendent. There’s only so much I
wish
to know about Derbyshire and I’ve almost reached that point. But if you’re in the mood to solve a murder,’ said Leeming, daring to provoke him, ‘why don’t you start with the one that took place in this village three years ago?’

‘That case is under review.’

‘It’s good of you to be so honest about your blunders, sir. If the case remains open, you keep reminding people of your failure. Most constabularies try to bury their mistakes and flaunt their successes. That means they have to be on good terms with the editors of their local newspapers, of course.’

Wigg was roused. ‘What are you implying?’

‘I merely made an observation, Superintendent.’

‘If you bandy words with me, I’ll complain to the Inspector.’

‘Then I must make a confession,’ said Leeming. ‘The observation was not mine. I was only quoting what Inspector Colbeck said to me. He thought you were unhealthily close to a certain editor.’ He enjoyed Wigg’s irate gurgle. ‘By the way, did you know that Philip Conway is being moved away from Spondon?’

‘The movement of reporters is of no concern to me.’

‘It ought to be. Mr Conway has been far more useful to us in this village than any of the six constables who live here. He knows how to dig out the little secrets that people prefer to keep hidden.’

‘I don’t care two hoots about Conway.’

‘Then why did you have him shifted from this village?’

‘I did nothing of the kind,’ said Wigg, whiskers bristling.

‘Someone used his influence with the editor.’

‘I resent that charge, Sergeant. I’m on good terms with the
Mercury
because I know the important part that a newspaper can play in the war against crime. The facts that I provide for publication are there to inform and reassure people. Any responsible constabulary would do the same.’ He jabbed Leeming in the chest. ‘Take back that vile slur you made against me. I did not have Conway moved.’

‘Then we must be mistaken,’ said Leeming, feeling that he’d prodded the man far enough. ‘If I offended you, sir, I apologise. But we would be grateful to hear
all
the evidence you and your men have so far gathered.’

‘What I’m seeking is an
exchange
of evidence.’

‘I’ll pass on that request to the inspector.’

‘Please do so.’

‘Oh, and there’s something else I must pass on,’ added Leeming, getting in a valedictory dig. ‘Your brother sends his regards.’

Wigg spluttered. ‘Why bring Reuben into this?’

‘I called on him in Belper, sir. I thought you should know that.’

Word of Lydia Quayle’s return had spread quickly throughout the staff and it had reached the ears of John Cleary. He was puzzled by her reappearance after so long an absence. Since she was now inside the house, he didn’t expect to catch sight of her at all. He was therefore astonished when she came in search of him. He was polishing the phaeton at the time and saw her mirrored in the shining side panel. Cleary spun round to face her.

‘Good afternoon, Cleary.’

‘Oh, good afternoon, Miss Quayle – I heard that you were back.’

‘How long I’ll be staying, I don’t really know.’

‘While you’re here,’ he said, ‘you’re very welcome.’

It was a sincere comment. Cleary had always liked her because she’d treated him well during her time on the estate. Lydia found him pleasant, willing and very efficient. He was also quietly unobtrusive. Some of the servants were always courting attention in the hope of gaining favour but the coachman simply did as he was told. Cleary had a gift for fading into the background.

‘I’m rather surprised to see you out here,’ he said, tentatively.

‘Why?’

‘After all this time away, I’d have thought you had a lot to say to the rest of your family. They must have been wondering where you’ve been.’

‘They’re preoccupied with other things at the moment.’

‘Of course – I’m very sorry about what happened to your father.’ When she made no reply, he pressed on. ‘We all respected Mr Quayle. We can’t imagine that anyone would
want to harm him in any way. Do the police have any idea who committed the murder?’

‘I believe that they have suspects in mind.’

‘That’s good.’

‘Inspector Colbeck has an excellent reputation.’

‘Yes, I met the inspector. I was impressed by him.’

Cleary was still trying to work out why she’d come to the stables in the first place. She seemed so uncomfortable and hesitant. For her part, Lydia was battling with demons from the past and trying to summon up her courage. During her time in London, she’d made a conscious attempt to put Gerard Burns out of her mind but he’d seeped back in the moment she’d seen their old haunts. Lydia did her best to sound casual but the question was nevertheless blurted out.

‘Do you ever see anything of Mr Burns?’

‘No, I don’t,’ he replied.

‘You were such good friends at one time.’

‘We lost touch.’

‘I remember watching the two of you play cricket,’ she said. ‘You and Mr Burns were the best players in the team.’

‘Your brother was a fine cricketer as well, Miss Quayle.’

‘Lucas was never as good as either of you.’

‘Oh, you can’t compare me with Gerard. He was very special. I’d hate to have faced him when he was bowling.’