The Stationmaster's farewell

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Madeleine Andrews could see that her father was deeply troubled. While he still talked fondly of Binnie Langton, there was none of his earlier boyish enthusiasm at the rediscovery of love. He now spoke with the caution of a middle-aged man who was weighing up all the possibilities before he made a major decision. When she visited her aunt that evening, Madeleine persuaded him to go with her. Wrapped up warmly against the chill wind, they strolled along side by side. The walk gave them an opportunity to discuss the situation.

‘Are you going to invite her for tea?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know, Maddy.’

‘Do you want to invite her?’

‘Part of me wants to,’ he said, ‘but another part is holding me back somehow.’

‘You’re still thinking about her sister, aren’t you?’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘Mrs Langton will be expecting some kind of response,’ said Madeleine. ‘You went to her house for tea. The least she’s entitled to is a letter of thanks and I daresay she’ll want to know why you stayed such a short time.’

‘I can hardly tell her that I was scared of her sister.’

‘Then you must invent a polite excuse.’

They paused at a kerb and waited for two cabs and a cart to roll past before crossing the road. Once on the opposite pavement, Andrews spied a possible means of escape.

‘It may all be over, Maddy,’ he said, hopefully. ‘I don’t think that Mrs Young took to me. Why should she? She probably told her sister that there was no future in our friendship and that the best thing Binnie could do was to let me go.’

‘I don’t think she’d say that at all,’ argued Madeleine, hurt by the suggestion that her father was unworthy of the woman for whom he cared. ‘You’d be a very presentable suitor to any unattached lady of that age. Besides, Mrs Langton clearly has no objection to you. She wouldn’t be put off by a few words of criticism.’

‘That’s true.’

‘You should have more faith in the friendship.’

‘If only two of us were involved,’ said Andrews, gloomily, ‘then I would. But there are three of us involved now — Binnie, me and her sister.’

‘You can’t count, Father. The correct number is four and it includes me.’

He looked surprised. ‘Yes, I suppose it does.’

‘Not that you’d ever take my advice,’ she added.

‘I hang on your every word, Maddy,’ he said, laughing. ‘But you’re right. I have been in too much of a rush. I should have introduced you to Binnie earlier. Whenever we’ve been together, she’s always asked after you and about the wedding.’

‘On one thing I must put my foot down,’ said Madeleine, firmly. ‘Mrs Langton will not be invited. It’s a small affair with family and friends. Invitations have already been sent out. There’s no room for anyone else.’

‘That’s fair enough.’

‘Robert wouldn’t be happy about it, I know.’

‘It’s a pity he didn’t come to Binnie’s house with me,’ said Andrews. ‘I could have done with police protection when I was set on by Mrs Young.’

‘She sounds like a real harridan.’

‘Well, she didn’t look it, Maddy. That’s the odd thing. She was a very striking woman. In many ways, she’s a more interesting person than Binnie. But for the sharp tongue, Ivy Young would be a catch for any man.’

Madeleine stopped and turned to face him. She took him by the shoulders.

‘Be honest, Father,’ she advised. ‘What would you really like to do?’

‘I’d like to go back to my job on the railway.’

She blinked. ‘Why ever do you say that?’

‘When I was driving up and down the country all day long, I had no time for silly thoughts about women. I acted my age, Maddy. I was happy. It’s not the same any more,’ he confessed. ‘I’m cut adrift. That’s why I was so pleased when Binnie crossed my path. Everything seemed so wonderful at first.’

‘I’m sorry that her sister has blighted everything.’

‘She made me look at Binnie in a different way and it sort of changed my mind. Oh, I don’t know what to do,’ he moaned, shaking his head. ‘If you want the truth, right now I’d like to be hundreds of miles away from here.’

Colbeck was both astounded and elated. On the table in the parlour was a pile of banknotes that had been hidden under the false base in the birdcage. Of far more interest to him, however, was the diary belonging to Joel Heygate. Its hiding place had at last been found.

‘I always said that the canary knew his secret,’ said Colbeck. ‘This device is better than a safe because nobody would dream of looking there.’

‘We only found it by accident,’ said Dorcas, meekly.

‘That’s why we sent for you at once, Inspector,’ said Maud.

Colbeck picked up the diary. ‘You did the right thing, Mrs Hope,’ he said. ‘This may give us vital clues that will help to solve the murder.’

She was puzzled. ‘But you’ve already solved it, haven’t you? I thought that you’d caught the man responsible.’

‘We have someone in custody but he’s being very tight-lipped about what actually happened on the night that Mr Heygate was killed. This diary may at least tell us where the murder occurred and throw up a lot of other valuable information.’

‘What about the money?’ asked Dorcas.

‘It shows you what a frugal man Mr Heygate must have been. At a glance, I’d say that we have at least two hundred pounds. Having so little to spend his money on, he took the sensible decision to save it.’

‘What will happen to it, Inspector?’

‘First of all,’ said Colbeck, ‘I’ll count it in your presence and give you a receipt for the amount. I’d like to say that you could keep it, because you certainly deserve to do so, but it must be handed over to Mr Heygate’s solicitor. It will then be bequeathed to the person or persons nominated in the will.’

‘That will be his brother, even though Mr Heygate didn’t really like him.’

‘We shall see, Miss Hope. In a sense, the cash is immaterial. This diary is worth much more than two hundred pounds. I’ll study it with the greatest interest.’

Dorcas smiled. ‘Will there be any mention of me in it?’

‘I daresay there will be. You looked after Peter for him.’

The canary cheeped in response and fluttered about in the cage.

‘He always does that when he hears his name,’ noted Maud.

‘Birds are more intelligent than we think, Mrs Hope,’ said Colbeck.

‘What about Mrs Rossiter?’ asked Dorcas.

‘I expect to see her name in the diary.’

‘I didn’t mean that, Inspector. I wondered if you had any news of her.’

‘It’s too early for that,’ replied Colbeck. ‘When I went to the asylum, Dr Swift told me that she needed time to adjust to her new surroundings. But she won’t be without a friend in there. He sang the praises of the chaplain and said that he had a gift for helping people like Mrs Rossiter.’

‘Her sister is terribly upset.’

‘Have you been to see her?’

‘Yes, I did. After you suggested it, I went as soon as I could. Miss Impey feels lost and alone. It’s her house but Mrs Rossiter more or less ran it. Now that she’s gone, her sister doesn’t know how to cope. She’s afraid to step outside the door.’

‘We must invite her here,’ said Maud, sympathetically. ‘Miss Impey ought to know that there are some of us who don’t judge her sister harshly.’

‘That would be a comfort to her, Mrs Hope,’ said Colbeck. ‘In time, I trust, more reassuring news about Mrs Rossiter will come out of the asylum. I was very heartened by what I heard about the chaplain there. He’ll surely take pity on her.’

It was evening before Canon Smalley found the time to visit the new arrival. His daily round had taken him all over the asylum, offering whatever help and solace he could. As on the previous occasion, he spent a long while with Agnes Rossiter, listening to her complaints and holding her hands. There were marginal improvements. She was no longer so agitated and her rage against the Church and the god it served seemed to have abated somewhat. But she was still under the illusion that she and Joel Heygate had been destined to marry and still ranted on about her rights as his beloved. When he left her, Smalley had promised to visit her on the following day. She thanked him profusely and had squeezed his hands in gratitude.

As evening wore on, his interest shifted to Esther Leete. He had some idea what to expect because Dr Swift had shown him her file. She’d been admitted to the deaf and dumb asylum two years ago at the age of fifteen. The diagnosis had been one of melancholia at puberty. Throughout her stay, she’d been depressed. Suddenly, she’d become violent and the staff were unable to control her. Swift’s diagnosis was that she was in the grip of a mania. Unable either to speak or to hear, Esther Leete presented special problems. When he called on her, Canon Smalley saw what they were. She was being held in a locked room with a burly female nurse standing over her. Seated on the bed, the girl was strapped into a straitjacket.

Smalley disapproved. ‘Does she have to wear that?’

‘It’s what Dr Swift ordered,’ said the nurse.

‘Can’t you release her so that I can talk to her?’

‘She won’t understand a word of what you say, Canon Smalley. Besides, my orders are to keep her restrained. When she was free, she smashed a glass and tried to cut her wrists.’

‘Dear me!’ he exclaimed. ‘What pain she must be in to be driven to such an extreme.’ He approached the patient and smiled at her. ‘Hello, Miss Leete.’

‘I’d advise you not to get too close,’ warned the nurse.

‘She’s not frightened of me. I pose no threat.’

‘She’s dangerous.’

‘What about her parents?’

‘They were unable to look after her. When her father died, she became very depressed. That’s when she was taken into care.’

Smalley sat on the edge of the bed, barely a yard from the patient; Esther was studying him with glinting eyes. If her face had not been so contorted, she would have been a beautiful young woman. Smalley felt that it was cruel that she had to suffer twin disabilities. Normal life was impossible for her. She had to rely on the patience and assistance of others. Esther looked at his cassock and seemed to understand what it betokened. It did nothing to comfort her. Twisting her features into a grimace, she leapt to her feet and began to make a muffled noise of protest. The nurse grabbed her before she could kick out at her visitor.

‘There you are, Canon Smalley,’ she said. ‘I did tell you.’

He got up calmly. ‘I’ll be back,’ he said. ‘She obviously needs me.’

The diary was a revelation. It covered a period of almost two years and was rich in detail. When Colbeck examined it back in his room at the Acland Tavern, Leeming sat beside him. It took them a little time to decipher some of the abbreviations used. Once they’d done that, it was possible to read the diary like a novel, albeit one with a limited number of characters and a repetitive plot.

‘So much for the brother’s claim that he hardly ever saw Heygate,’ said Colbeck, looking at another entry. ‘This is the seventh time in a row that he called on the stationmaster. And instead of asking for money, he demanded it. And look,’ he went on, turning a page and tapping it with a finger, ‘here’s another reference. This time it’s his sister-in-law who comes in search of a loan.’

‘She’d have been put up to it by that snake of a husband.’

‘They really seem to have persecuted the stationmaster.’

Leeming was sarcastic. ‘It’s funny that they never mentioned that, isn’t it?’

‘They’re almost as dishonest as Bagsy Browne.’

‘I disagree, sir. They’re more dishonest. Browne doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’s a criminal. In fact he revels in it, whereas Heygate and his wife try to pass themselves off as decent people badly treated by someone who should have helped them. At least I caught them out telling one lie.’

‘Yes, they didn’t spend that night with friends but at the Crown Inn.’

‘You should have seen the expression on their faces when I challenged them about it,’ said Leeming with a chuckle. ‘They turned bright red.’

‘What was their explanation, Victor?’

‘Heygate claimed that the landlord of the inn was the friend they’d talked about and that he let them stay there for nothing.’

‘One lie follows another,’ said Colbeck. ‘Nevertheless, it will do no harm for you to go to the Crown Inn and test the claim. But that can wait. The diary takes priority. Most of the entries refer to birds. I hadn’t realised that there were so many different species in Devon. He’s listed dozens and dozens. Ah,’ he went on, ‘there’s a mention of Lawrence Woodford here.’

‘What sort of bird is he, sir?’

‘I think he’s some sort of vulture. No sooner was the stationmaster dead than he swooped down on the carcass.’

‘I dislike the man. What does it say about him?’

‘It just says “First warning to Woodford”, with no details of what the warning was about.’ Colbeck flipped over the pages. ‘He’s mentioned in dispatches again and this time we know why. “Second warning — bottle confiscated.” It looks as if the new stationmaster was caught drinking on duty.’

‘It’s no wonder Woodford didn’t like him.’

‘He should have been grateful, Victor. People have been dismissed for less. It’s only because Mr Heygate didn’t make an official complaint to the company that Woodford held on to his job.’

‘And now he’s strutting about like the cock of the walk.’

‘Yes, Victor. It’s because Joel Heygate is dead. Woodford is safe.’

‘So he had a very strong motive to murder him.’

Colbeck continued to flick through the diary. There were several mentions of Dorcas Hope by a man who clearly saw her as his closest friend. Agnes Rossiter, however, earned only one fleeting reference. Colbeck eventually reached the place where he’d first started and that was at the final entry. It was the day on which Heygate had been murdered. The entry was brief — ‘Visit owl.’ It meant nothing to the detectives. There were three earlier references to the bird but the only indication of its whereabouts was in the first one — ‘Barn owl near M.V.’ Colbeck was disappointed. The diary had taught them a lot about certain people but, on the most important point of all, it had let them down.

‘We must talk to Miss Hope,’ decided Colbeck.

‘Will she be able to help us, sir?’

‘She knows the city far better than we do, Victor. I’m sure she’ll be able to hazard a guess at what these initials stand for.’

‘It could be the name of a person rather than a place.’

‘That’s very true.’

‘I’ve just thought,’ said Leeming with a short laugh. ‘This diary really belongs to Michael Heygate. Do you think he’ll enjoy reading it?’

‘Not if it’s used against him in a court of law,’ said Colbeck.

‘There’s no real evidence there to convict him, sir. Besides, we already know who the killer was. He’s in custody and his name is Bagsy Browne. Did you send that telegraph to Superintendent Tallis?’

‘It would have reached Scotland Yard this afternoon. I know that Mr Tallis was advised to rest but he’ll have gone straight to his office and carried on working.’

‘He’ll be pleased that we finally caught the culprit.’

‘He’ll be pleased that we caught the man who stabbed him,’ said Colbeck, ‘but I’m still not sure that we’re holding the one who murdered the stationmaster.’

Leeming was incredulous. ‘It has to be Bagsy Browne, sir.’

‘Does it?’

‘He has a record of violence.’

‘Yet he’s always stopped short of murder in the past.’

‘He and that woman were in this together.’

‘Then why does he refuse to tell us where he was on the fateful night and why does Adeline Goss swear that he wasn’t with her? Browne has raised untruthfulness to the level of an art and he practises it like a master. There’s no doubt that he’s guilty of several crimes,’ said Colbeck, ‘but I maintain that the murder is not one of them.’

Leeming was bewildered. ‘If it wasn’t Browne who killed the stationmaster, then who on earth did?’

Colbeck tapped the diary.

‘The answer lies somewhere in here, Victor.’

Ivy Young watched from a vantage point further along the street. She had a good view of the house and was impressed by its size and state of repair. Caleb Andrews obviously knew how to look after a property. It was almost an hour before the front door opened and she realised that her vigil was about to deliver what she’d hoped. Madeleine emerged with a basket over her arm and headed in the direction of the market. Evidently, she’d be gone for some time. Ivy didn’t waste a second of it. Scampering across the street, she walked up to the house and knocked on the front door. After a few seconds, it was opened by Andrews. His jaw dropped.

‘Hello, Caleb,’ she said, sweetly. ‘May I call you that? I feel that we’re on first-name terms now. Forgive me for surprising you like this but I’ve got something important to tell you.’

‘What is it?’ he gulped.

‘I can’t possibly talk on the doorstep. May I come in?’

‘I was just about to go out, Mrs Young.’

‘You can call me Ivy.’ She glanced down at his feet. ‘And I don’t think you can be going out when you still have your slippers on. Let me in. I won’t stay long.’

Andrews was helpless. Before he could prevent her, she’d eased him aside and stepped into the house. When he closed the front door, she was looking around the parlour. She crossed to the easel and reached for the cloth covering the painting.

‘No,’ he said, rushing across to intercept her. ‘Don’t touch that. My daughter hates anyone to see her work before it’s finished. Maddy would be livid.’

‘There’s no need why she should ever know. Let me take a peek.’

‘I’m afraid that I can’t, Mrs Young.’

She beamed at him. ‘I do have a Christian name, you know.’

Andrews was nonplussed. She was so different from the woman he’d met earlier. Instead of the beaky and inquisitive sister, he was now looking at a handsome woman in her finery who was speaking in a low and confiding manner. The warm smile never left her face.

‘We need to talk,’ she said, sitting down.

‘Do we?’

‘I came about Binnie.’

‘Oh, I see.’

He sat down opposite her, embarrassed to be caught in his slippers and grateful that he was wearing a collar and tie. Andrews felt invaded.

‘I know how much you like Binnie,’ said her sister. ‘She’s very fond of you and I can see why. You’re a fine upstanding man, Caleb. What you need to know about Binnie is that she can be headstrong. She makes up her mind too quickly and that always leads to tears in the end. It’s happened before, you see.’

‘What has, Mrs Young? … Ivy, that is.’

‘I’m talking about her sudden passion for a gentleman. It flares up at the start but it soon burns itself out. The one before you lasted only three weeks.’

‘I didn’t realise that.’

‘There are lots of things you don’t realise, I’m afraid. Take your visit to her the other afternoon. What did you think of the food?’

‘It was delicious. Binnie is a good cook.’

‘That’s what she’d like you to believe,’ said Ivy, ‘but, in fact, she hates cooking and has never baked a cake in her life. Everything you ate at the house was my doing. I made it all for her.’

‘Why did you do that?’

‘My sister wanted to impress you.’

‘She certainly did that.’

‘Binnie said that you liked your food.’

‘I do. I’ve been spoilt. Maddy — my daughter — is a wonderful cook.’

‘I’m sure, she is,’ said Ivy, letting her gaze travel around the room before alighting on the easel. ‘She’s a wonderful cook, a gifted artist and she’s going to marry a detective whose name is always in the newspapers. You must be very proud of her, Caleb.’

‘Oh, I am. I couldn’t wish for a better daughter.’

‘The house will be terribly empty when she’s gone.’

‘She’s promised to visit whenever she can.’

‘It’s not the same as having someone to share your life with,’ she said, moving her gaze back to him. ‘Companionship is so important to people of our age. I daresay you thought that Binnie would give it to you, but her interest would soon flag. She’s not like me, Caleb. Once I make my choice, I stand by it.’

His collar suddenly felt very tight and sweat broke out under his armpits. He was in his own home and yet he felt obscurely under threat. Andrews didn’t know how much of what she was saying was true or why she felt obliged to say it. In her earlier hawkish mood, Ivy Young was intimidating. Now that she’d gone to the other extreme, she was even more overwhelming.

‘Were you thinking of inviting Binnie here to have tea?’ she asked.

‘Yes, I was,’ he admitted.

‘Don’t do it, Caleb. The closer you get to my sister, the more upset you’ll be when she lets you down. Leave her be for a while.’

‘But she’ll think it’s very rude of me to neglect her.’

‘Put yourself first. She’ll soon move on to the next one.’

He was dejected. ‘How many others have there been?’

‘You’d be too distressed to know,’ she said, getting up. ‘I must leave you in peace. I just wanted to pass on a friendly warning.’

‘Thank you — thank you, Ivy.’

‘Ease yourself gently away from my sister.’

He got to his feet. ‘I’ll do as you say.’

‘I knew that you would.’ Broadening her smile into a grin, she placed a hand on his arm and put her face close to his. ‘Just because the friendship between you and Binnie is more or less finished,’ she went on, taking a slip of paper from her pocket and handing it to him, ‘there’s no reason why you and I shouldn’t keep in touch, is there? That’s my address. Let’s meet again very soon, shall we?’

Andrews showed her out. When he shut the door, he not only locked and bolted it, he moved a chair up against it to bolster his defence. Then he went swiftly upstairs and put on a pair of shoes.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Steel, ‘but I can’t help you, Inspector.’

‘Can’t you even hazard a guess?’ asked Colbeck.

‘No, I can’t. I don’t know the name of every property in Exeter and, in any case, this may not even be a property.’

‘I thought it might be someone’s name,’ said Leeming.

‘That, too, is possible.’

Their first call that morning had been on Superintendent Steel. They told him about the money concealed in the birdcage and showed him the stationmaster’s diary. He was intrigued by the information about Michael Heygate and Lawrence Woodford. However, Steel was less taken with Colbeck’s claim that Bagsy Browne might not have been the killer, after all.

‘With all due respect, Inspector,’ he said, ‘you are profoundly wrong.’

‘Victor agrees with you,’ said Colbeck. ‘He believes I should have my head examined by Dr Swift.’

‘I wouldn’t go that far, sir,’ said Leeming. ‘I just think we’ve got the right man. Why bother to look for someone else? Michael Heygate may have been a rotten brother and Woodford may have been drinking on duty but that doesn’t make them capable of battering a man to death. Browne is our man. I’d bet on it.’

‘I wouldn’t want to relieve you of your money.’

‘I’ll be happy to relieve you of more of yours, Inspector,’ said Steel with a grin. ‘Are you ready to wager another sovereign that Bagsy Browne is innocent of the murder?’

‘No,’ said Colbeck. ‘I’m ready to wager five whole pounds.’

‘In that case, I accept the bet.’

‘And I’m the witness,’ said Leeming.

Colbeck looked at Steel. ‘How did Browne spend the night?’

‘He never stopped protesting his innocence,’ said Steel. ‘We’re taking him before a magistrate this morning so that we can get him remanded in prison. I want him where he can’t possibly escape or collude with Adeline Goss.’

‘But she’s in a separate cell,’ said Leeming.

‘Bagsy would have found a way to communicate with her. We arrested him and another man some years ago and put them in cells that were fifteen yards apart. They sent messages to each other by tapping on the pipe that ran through all of the cells. It’s the reason I had it lagged.’ He turned to Colbeck. ‘What about Adeline? Do you think she was Bagsy’s accomplice?’

‘She couldn’t have been his accomplice in a murder he didn’t commit,’ said Colbeck, wryly. ‘And if it turns out that he is guilty of it, I still don’t think Miss Goss was involved. She loves Browne. The only way she could do that is to turn a blind eye to the things he does. She’d never condone murder.’

‘I’m inclined to agree with you there.’

‘What happens now, Inspector?’ asked Leeming.

‘We’ll need to pay a visit to Joel Heygate’s solicitor. I believe that his name is Mr Lyman of Lyman, Cole amp; Harmer. The money found in the birdcage must be handed over to him. So should the diary, by rights,’ Colbeck said, ‘but we need to hang on to that because it contains crucial evidence.’

‘It doesn’t absolve Bagsy of the murder,’ said Steel.

‘And it doesn’t implicate him in it either.’

‘What about Michael Heygate and Woodford? If Bagsy is innocent — and I don’t accept that for a second — should we bring them in for questioning?’

‘No, Superintendent, there’s no need. The arrest of Browne will give them the feeling that the case is solved. If one of them was somehow involved in the death, they’ll think they’re quite safe now. They’ll be off guard. Come on, Victor,’ said Colbeck, ‘we need to hand over this money. You can then pay a visit to the Crown Inn and find out just how friendly the landlord was with Mr Heygate’s brother. Meanwhile, I’ll have a chat with our unpaid assistant.’

‘Who is that, sir?’

‘A helpful young lady named Dorcas Hope.’

She knew that he’d be waiting for her to renew his pressure on her. Before she got anywhere near the refreshment room, Woodford descended on her. The difference this time was that he was actually pleasant to Dorcas.

‘Good morning, Miss Hope,’ he said.

‘Good morning, Mr Woodford.’

‘It’s good to see you so punctual.’

‘Mr Heygate taught me that,’ she said.

‘Is there any news of Mrs Rossiter?’

‘I’ve heard none — though I did speak to Miss Impey, her sister. She’s very distressed, as you can imagine. She thinks everyone is talking about her.’

‘Well, she’s quite wrong there,’ said Woodford. ‘Bagsy Browne is the person who’s keeping all the tongues wagging and not Mrs Rossiter. She’s been forgotten. All that people are talking about is the hanging.’

‘I’m not talking about it, I assure you. I can’t bear the thought of it.’

‘It’s what that devil deserves, Miss Hope.’

‘Why can’t they just lock him away for good?’

He broke off to answer a question from a passenger. It gave Dorcas a momentary break and allowed her to wonder why the stationmaster’s manner towards her had changed so radically. Having bullied her before, he was making an effort to be kind to her. She could not understand why.

‘I’m sorry about that,’ he said as the passenger walked away. ‘The reason I asked about Mrs Rossiter is this. Much as I sympathise with her plight, I can’t see a time when she’d ever be ready to return to her old job here. The passengers wouldn’t like it. They’ve all heard the tales about her. In other words,’ he went on, ‘we may be looking for a new manager or even a manageress.’ He smiled knowingly at her. ‘Mr Vesey has agreed to stay on until the end of the year but he’s not getting any younger and will have to be replaced. He feels that you may be ready to take over.’

She was thrilled. ‘That’s so kind of him!’

‘You suffer from the opposite handicap, of course,’ he said. ‘While he’s rather old, you’re rather young. Without Mrs Rossiter to look after you, there could be some harassment from certain quarters. The way to obviate that is to have a man working under you as a waiter. His presence will offer you protection against any unwanted attentions.’ He smiled again. ‘I take it that you’d be interested in the post.’

‘Oh, yes, Mr Woodford. I’ve always enjoyed working here.’

‘Leave it to me.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Before you go,’ he said, touching her arm as she tried to move away, ‘I just wanted a word about that diary again. I quite forgot that you mentioned it to me. I’m sorry for the confusion. You were right to tell the truth, Miss Hope.’

‘I’ve been brought up to speak honestly at all times. But I expect you haven’t heard what’s happened, have you?’ she said with excitement. ‘The diary has been found. It was hidden in the bottom of Peter’s birdcage.’

He was rocked. ‘Where is the diary now?’ he demanded.

‘I gave it to Inspector Colbeck.’

Woodford looked so ill that she thought he was about to faint.

When she got back from the market, Madeleine was surprised that she could not open the front door of the house with her latchkey. She rapped with her knuckles and heard something being moved away before the bolt was drawn. The door opened and her father’s head emerged to look up and down the street.

‘Has she gone?’ he asked.

‘Who are you talking about?’

‘Mrs Young has been here. She frightened the life out of me.’

‘Let me come in then you can tell me all about it.’

He stood aside so that Madeleine could enter the house. She took the basket into the kitchen and left it there while she removed her coat and hat. When they’d been hung up, she confronted her father.

‘What was Mrs Young doing here?’ she asked.

‘That’s the trouble, Maddy. I don’t really know.’

‘When did she arrive?’

‘It was the moment you left the house. I have a horrible feeling that she was waiting outside for the chance to catch me alone. That gave me a shiver.’

‘Sit down and tell me all about it.’

They sat beside each other and Andrews gave her a garbled account of what had happened. It was clear that he still hadn’t understood the full import of what had occurred. Madeleine, by contrast, seized on the salient point.

‘She’s after you, Father,’ she said.

‘How can that be? I’m Binnie’s friend, not hers.’

‘She’s trying to prise you away from her sister. Why else should she give you her address? Mrs Young wants you to enter into a conspiracy with her.’

He was appalled. ‘I’d never do that. I like Binnie too much.’

‘From what I can gather,’ she said, ‘Mrs Young likes you too much. I think she’s jealous of her sister and wants to take you away from her. As for coming here without an invitation, that’s unforgivable.’

‘She pretended that she was doing me a favour.’

‘Did you believe everything she told you?’

‘I did and I didn’t, Maddy,’ he replied. ‘I did at first because she was so convincing. After she’d gone, however, I got to thinking about all the things she claimed. She said that Binnie chased after men, then cast them aside when she lost interest in them. That doesn’t sound like the Binnie Langton I know. She’s a respectable woman, Maddy. I wouldn’t have looked at her twice if she hadn’t been.’

‘What about the tea you had at her house?’

‘Binnie baked everything. I’m certain of it.’

‘Then why did her sister lie to you?’

‘I don’t know. I suppose she wanted me to think well of her.’

‘And do you?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘As soon as she left, I barricaded myself in.’ Madeleine burst out laughing. He was hurt. ‘What’s so funny?’

‘I can’t leave you alone for a minute, Father,’ she teased. ‘Most men in your position would be flattered if one woman took an interest in them. You’ve got two sisters fighting tooth and nail over you.’

‘There’s nothing to laugh about, Maddy. It was very unpleasant.’

‘I’m sure it was,’ she said with a consoling arm around him, ‘and I didn’t mean to poke fun. How has it left you feeling about Mrs Langton?’

‘To be honest, I’m not very keen to see her again.’

‘What about her sister?’

‘I’d run a mile if she turned up here again.’

‘Then the solution is obvious,’ said Madeleine. ‘You must write Mrs Langton a letter to thank her for the invitation to tea and tell her that you’re going away for some time.’

‘But I’m not, Maddy. I’m staying here.’

‘No, you’re not. We both deserve a short holiday.’

‘Where would we go?’

‘I know just the place,’ she said with growing conviction. ‘You heard what Robert said in the letter I had this morning. They’ve made an arrest but he still has doubts about the man’s guilt and expects the case to drag on a little longer. That means I’ll continue to fret about him if I stay here and your knees will continue to knock at the thought of a second visit from Mrs Young.’

‘Heaven forbid!’

‘We can take the train to Exeter and solve both of our problems.’

‘But that would mean travelling on the Great Western Railway,’ he said with disgust. ‘Do you really expect me to do that, Maddy?’

‘Would you rather be caught in your slippers again by Mrs Young?’

It took him only a few seconds to weigh up the alternatives.

‘I’ll write that letter to Binnie at once,’ he said, ‘then we can pack our bags and catch the next train to Exeter.’