The Stationmaster's farewell

CHAPTER NINE

When he met them over luncheon, Tallis was not impressed with the way that his detectives had spent the morning. Expecting signs of visible progress, he was very disappointed. He did not mince his words.

‘Let me get this straight,’ he said, glaring first at Colbeck then at Leeming, ‘the sum total of your endeavours is as follows. The inspector wasted his time with a mad old lady while you, Sergeant, seem to have gone to Dawlish for the sole purpose of discovering how the atmospheric railway worked.’

‘That’s unfair, sir,’ said Leeming, hotly. ‘I only mentioned that in passing. My interview with Mr and Mrs Heygate did yield a result.’

‘I fail to see it.’

‘The pair of them must definitely be considered as suspects.’

‘You knew that before you went to their home.’

‘I had to confirm our suspicions,’ argued Leeming. ‘They fell out with the stationmaster because he’d refused to advance them money for the second time. There was no sense of gratitude for the loan he’d already given them. Without that, they’d never have been able to set up in business in the first place.’

‘Resentment does not make them killers.’

‘It could do, sir.’

‘I agree,’ said Colbeck, coming to his rescue. ‘What Victor learnt was that they had a strong motive to murder Joel Heygate. They’d not only wreak their revenge, they’d inherit more than enough from him to buy their way out of their financial difficulties. And there are unanswered questions to consider,’ he went on. ‘Why did Mr and Mrs Heygate come to Exeter a day earlier than they need have done? Why did they leave their children at home when the celebrations were aimed at the youth of the city? I’m sure that Victor would never have dreamt of depriving his children of such a treat.’

‘I certainly wouldn’t,’ said Leeming. ‘They love bonfires.’

‘Finally, where did they stay on the fateful night?’

‘They must have lodged with friends,’ said Tallis, dismissively.

‘Then why didn’t they say so?’

‘Who knows?’

‘I’d be surprised if they had any friends,’ said Leeming. ‘They’re an unlovable couple, sir. In fact, I think that’s another reason why their shop failed. I can’t believe that customers enjoyed dealing with them.’

‘In that case,’ decided Tallis, ‘they must have stayed at an inn.’

‘When they’re so short of money?’

‘Damn it, man! They must have stayed somewhere.’

‘Not necessarily,’ Colbeck put in. ‘It’s conceivable that they committed the murder on the night before Guy Fawkes Day, concealed the body under the bonfire then took the train back to Dawlish.’

‘The sergeant should have pressed them for details.’

‘That would have given the game away, Superintendent,’ said Leeming. ‘They’d have realised that they were suspects and clammed up completely.’

‘Perhaps I should have a word with them.’

‘Oh, I don’t think that would be a good idea,’ said Colbeck, firmly.

He sat back so that the waiter could remove his plate. Letting Tallis loose on their suspects was something that Colbeck was determined to avoid. Both he and Leeming were searching for ways to get rid of the superintendent altogether. With the best of intentions, Tallis nevertheless managed to impede an investigation. When he’d once joined them in Yorkshire to take charge of a case involving suicide and murder, he’d been hopelessly ineffective and unwittingly obstructive. It was only when Tallis had returned to London that they’d been able to move the investigation forward.

‘Let’s turn to you,’ said Tallis, eyeing Colbeck. ‘Why did you spend a whole morning at the home of a raving lunatic?’

‘That’s an unkind description of the lady, sir.’

‘What else would you call her? When someone runs amok in a cathedral, then she’s clearly of unsound mind and should be locked away.’

‘Mrs Rossiter is an important person in this investigation,’ insisted Colbeck. ‘She worked alongside Mr Heygate for many years and was able to supply some useful information. Common decency compels us to assist her in her hour of need. Mr Quinnell accepted that she’d been a good servant of the railway company and offered to pay for any medical attention.’

‘The fact remains that you learnt nothing of value this morning.’

‘Yes I did, sir. I learnt that Mrs Rossiter and her sister live in straitened circumstances and I discovered that Dr Swift has an excellent tailor.’

‘You’re being flippant.’

‘I came to understand the lady’s position more clearly,’ said Colbeck, ‘and, as a result, extend her much more sympathy than you are able to summon up at present. Doesn’t it tell us something about the stationmaster’s character that he could inspire such devotion in a woman?’

‘She was the victim of romantic folly.’

‘We’ve all been guilty of that at some time in our lives,’ volunteered Leeming.

‘Oh no, we haven’t,’ growled Tallis, reaching for his glass. ‘Passion of that nature is always dangerous. It can distort the mind — as in this case.’ After taking a sip of his wine, he announced his decision. ‘Michael Heygate and his wife must be looked at more closely,’ he said. ‘We can soon establish if they stayed at an inn here on that particular night. I’ll get the local police to make enquiries. We might as well get them to do something.’

‘That’s unjust, sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘Superintendent Steel and his men have been willing and cooperative. You must take their limitations into account. It’s not easy policing a city over which the bishop holds such sway.’

Tallis gave a nod of assent. ‘The man is a confounded nuisance.’

‘Then why did you take his complaints so seriously?’ asked Leeming.

‘Yes,’ said Colbeck, ‘why didn’t you simply send a reply to the effect that you had every confidence in us? That would have saved you a long journey and you’d have been spared a bruising interview with Bishop Phillpotts.’

‘I didn’t realise at the time that the fellow would be so unpleasant and domineering,’ said Tallis. ‘I’ve stayed here because my leadership is needed.’

‘It’s also needed in London, sir. In fact, the need there is far greater. A case like this comes along once in a blue moon in Exeter, whereas the capital is plagued by serious crime. That’s where you should be.’ Colbeck nudged Leeming. ‘Don’t you agree, Victor?’

‘I do,’ said Leeming, enthusiastically. ‘Why not leave everything to us, Superintendent? We can manage on our own. Go back to Scotland Yard.’

‘Don’t you dare tell me what to do!’ said Tallis, flaring up. ‘As for managing on your own, how can you question a suspect properly when all that you do is discuss the atmospheric railway with him?’

‘I was interested to know how it worked.’

‘I’m more interested to know how you work, Leeming.’

‘I’ll make a point of speaking to Michael Heygate myself,’ said Colbeck.

‘You should have done that in the first place,’ snarled Tallis, ‘instead of bothering with a woman who’s obviously taken leave of her senses. So far, you have three suspects. The police are still combing Exeter to find the most likely one and the other suspect is acting as stationmaster. In fact,’ he continued, ‘I met Mr Woodford this morning and I have to say that he did not strike me as a potential killer.’

‘I’m not sure that he’d have the strength or the nerve,’ said Leeming.

‘Neither do I,’ agreed Colbeck. ‘I can’t see him battering anyone to death. But I think that Mr Woodford is more than capable of hiring someone else to do the deed.’

Dorcas Hope’s career as a manageress was brief. As soon as it was evident that Agnes Rossiter would be away for some time, the former manager of the refreshment room at Newton Abbot station was brought out of retirement. Dorcas was relegated once more to the role of assistant. Timothy Vesey was a short, compact man in his sixties with a gnarled face and a slight stutter. He was much less talkative and self-important than Mrs Rossiter and Dorcas liked him. They worked well together. Woodford made sure that there were no problems. As he stepped into the room for the fourth time that day, he called out to Vesey while keeping his eyes on Dorcas, who was bending over a table as she wiped it clean.

‘Is everything under control in here?’ he asked.

‘Yes, it is,’ replied Vesey.

‘The next train is due in eight minutes.’

‘It will find us in a state of complete r-r-readiness, Mr Woodford.’

‘I expect no less.’

‘Is there any news about Mrs Rossiter?’ wondered Dorcas.

‘There’s none that I’m aware of, Miss Hope.’

‘I heard a rumour that she’d run wild in the cathedral.’

‘Don’t listen to tittle-tattle,’ advised Woodford. ‘It’s always wrong.’

‘They say the police had to take her away.’

He drew himself up. ‘What did I just tell you?’ he warned. ‘I won’t have my staff passing on idle gossip. Mrs Rossiter is unable to perform her duties here. That’s all you need to know.’

Dorcas was cowed. ‘Yes, Mr Woodford.’

‘Perhaps you’d care to step outside for a minute.’

‘I’m sorry. I won’t even mention the rumour again.’

‘I’d like to speak to you on another matter,’ he said, opening the door and taking her on to the platform. ‘There was no need for Mr Vesey to hear this.’ He stood very close to Dorcas. ‘What did Inspector Colbeck say to you?’

‘He asked me a few questions, that was all.’

‘What sort of questions?’

‘Well,’ she said, ‘he wanted to know everything I could tell him about Mr Heygate. He was very interested to hear that I was looking after Peter. That was thanks to you, Mr Woodford. I don’t think that Mr Quinnell would have let me have the canary if you hadn’t spoken up for me.’

‘You were the best person to take charge of Peter.’

‘He’s become one of the family. Mother dotes on him.’

He moved even closer to her. ‘What else did the inspector ask you?’

‘He wondered if I knew where Mr Heygate kept his money.’

‘Any income from the ticket office and the refreshment room goes straight into the safe at the end of each day. You should know that.’

‘He was talking about Mr Heygate’s own money,’ said Dorcas. ‘When they searched the house, they couldn’t find a penny, yet he must have had some cash to buy food and so on. I think it’s odd that there was nothing at all there.’

‘It may be in a hiding place,’ he ventured.

‘The search was very thorough, according to the inspector. He gave me a couple of books on how to look after canaries. Mother’s been reading them.’

‘Forget canaries,’ said Woodford, impatiently. ‘Did they find anything of real interest in the house?’

‘I don’t know. They were simply vexed at what they didn’t find.’

‘The money, you mean?’

‘Yes, Mr Woodford — and the diary.’

He became wary. ‘What diary was that?’

‘The one I told the inspector about,’ she explained. ‘It was really to do with his birdwatching, you see. Mr Heygate used to keep a note of all the species that he saw and where he’d found them. You can understand why the inspector wished that he’d found the diary. It might have told him where Mr Heygate went that night in order to see that owl.’ Woodford seemed distracted. ‘Did you hear what I said?’

‘Yes, yes,’ he said, abruptly. ‘That diary could be important.’

‘Yet it wasn’t anywhere in the house.’

‘Or if it was, it was carefully hidden.’ He rubbed a hand across his chin and seemed to forget that she was there. After a minute, he noticed her again. ‘Back to work, Miss Hope,’ he ordered. ‘You’re going to be very busy before too long.’

‘Yes, Mr Woodford,’ she said, relieved to get away.

While she went back into the refreshment room, he sauntered down the platform towards the stationmaster’s house. He studied it with fresh interest and was about to get closer when a uniformed policeman came into view. The house was still being guarded. Woodford gave the policeman a friendly wave but his emotions were in turmoil. He suddenly felt under threat.

When yet another summons came from the bishop’s palace, Superintendent Steel was irritated. He had far too much to do to dance attendance on the bishop. After toying with the idea of ignoring the letter, he elected to obey the request in the end but made a point of arriving late. Predictably, it infuriated the bishop.

‘I don’t like to be kept waiting,’ he rasped from his chair in the library.

‘I had something more important to do, Bishop.’

‘Nothing is more important than what I have to say. I want that woman hauled before a magistrate at once and sent to prison.’

‘I think you’re being unnecessarily vindictive,’ said the other.

‘Don’t you realise what she did, man?’

‘My officers gave me a full report.’

‘She defiled the house of God and, by implication, challenged my authority.’

‘When she entered the cathedral,’ said the superintendent, ‘I don’t believe the lady had you in mind at all. It was an impulsive act by a desperate woman.’

‘It was also a calculated attack on me,’ declared the bishop, ‘and it comes on the back of a murder that was an orchestrated assault on my position in the city.’

‘I’m sorry, Bishop, but I fail to see that.’

‘There are far too many things you fail to see, Superintendent. Blindness in a police officer is a grave shortcoming.’

‘Lack of compassion in a bishop is an even graver one.’

Bishop Phillpotts could not believe what he’d just heard. His eyes were aflame, his cheeks scarlet and his whole body shaking. They were alone in the library and he’d been sitting behind his desk. His visitor’s retort made him leap to his feet.

‘Do you have the audacity to accuse me of such a fault?’

‘It was not an accusation,’ said Steel, striking a conciliatory note. ‘It was an observation. I respectfully submit that your attitude towards Mrs Rossiter falls short of Christian forbearance. The woman is patently unwell. She needs help and understanding.’

‘Punishment is what she needs,’ said the bishop. ‘It must be a harsh and visible punishment to deter others. Charges must be brought against her.’

‘Inspector Colbeck felt that that would be unkind.’

‘He’s not the person who suffered a gross public insult.’

‘And neither were you, Bishop,’ said Steel. ‘Mrs Rossiter didn’t know what she was doing. For some reason, she lost all inhibition. We should strive to forgive her for what was clearly uncharacteristic impetuosity.’

‘Heavens above, man!’ exclaimed the bishop. ‘She grabbed the crucifix.’

‘It was a foolish gesture.’

‘It was a denial of the very existence of the Almighty.’

‘As such, it’s to be condemned,’ said Steel, ‘but I still don’t believe it deserves imprisonment. Inspector Colbeck concurs. He’s arranged for her to be examined by Dr Swift. If she is to be incarcerated, it will be in the County Asylum.’ The bishop seemed partially soothed. ‘May I return to my duties now, please?’

‘No, Superintendent, you may not.’

‘We have a killer to find.’

‘That’s the other matter I wished to discuss. Browne must be arrested.’

‘He’s proving elusive.’

‘Then you need more men to search for him,’ said the bishop. ‘To that end, I urge you to call in the troops from Topsham Barracks.’

‘Oh, no,’ said Steel, holding up both palms. ‘That would be quite wrong. You seem to forget that relations between the police and the military are strained at the best of times. We need to stay well apart. Besides,’ he continued, ‘it’s not simply a question of having more men. The best way to track down Bagsy Browne is to seek good intelligence. That’s why Mr Quinnell has increased the amount of money on offer for information leading to his arrest.’

‘Has any information been forthcoming so far?’

Steel was uncomfortable. ‘We’ve had none that’s entirely reliable.’

‘And we both know why,’ said the bishop. ‘Whenever he’s here, Browne terrorises this city. People won’t help you because they’re afraid of the consequences. They want the reassurance of seeing army uniforms on our streets.’

‘It would be a disastrous step to take.’

‘We need protection, Superintendent. I, in particular, demand it.’

‘Why so?’

‘Browne committed that murder out of spite against me. And he’s still here,’ said the bishop, waving an arm to take in the whole of Exeter. ‘If he’s got away with murder once, he may feel able to do so again — and I may well be his target.’

Steel mastered a surge of hope that such an eventuality might occur.

‘That’s absurd, Bishop,’ he said, reasonably. ‘There’s no evidence at all to suggest that the killing of Joel Heygate is in any way directed at you. Bagsy Browne is a deep-dyed villain who acts out of malice rather than because he has a hatred of the Church. Of one thing you can rest assured — you are completely safe.’

‘Then why don’t I feel safe in this city?’

Steel saw a chance to get rid of him. ‘Why not withdraw to Torquay?’ he counselled. ‘There’d be no sense of danger there, Bishop. You can return to Exeter when we’ve got Bagsy Browne in custody.’

The bishop struck a pose. ‘I don’t run away from danger,’ he boasted. ‘I stay to confront it and take positive action. I give you this warning. Catch this vile recreant in the next few days or …’ he paused for effect ‘… or I will contact the army myself.’

After scanning the newspaper with growing annoyance, Bagsy Browne scrunched it up and tossed it on the floor. Adeline Goss retrieved it. They were in her room and he was lolling discontentedly on the bed.

‘Why did you do that, Bagsy?’ she asked, smoothing the paper so that it could be read again. ‘Did something in there upset you?’

‘I’m upset because something wasn’t in the paper.’

‘What were you expecting?’

‘I wanted details of Heygate’s funeral.’

‘That may not be for days yet.’

‘I can’t stay in Exeter for ever, Ad.’

‘Where will you go?’

‘I need to find somewhere warm for the winter.’

She sat beside him. ‘It’s very snug in here,’ she said, stroking his arm. ‘I keep the fire burning day and night.’

‘You certainly keep my fire burning,’ he said with a crude snigger.

‘That’s what I’ll always do, Bagsy.’ She saw a headline in the newspaper. ‘They’re still looking for you.’

‘So?’

‘Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to attack that prison officer.’

‘It was him who attacked me, Ad. I had to defend myself. Also, I had a score to settle with Bob Wyatt. He made my life a misery in prison. I got my own back in the end,’ he said, triumphantly. ‘I always do. Anyone who crosses Bagsy Browne will wish that they hadn’t.’

‘Don’t go to that funeral,’ she implored.

‘Nothing would keep me away. I loathed that stationmaster.’

‘You’d be taking too big a risk, Bagsy.’

‘Stop worrying. I know what I’m doing.’

She grasped his shoulder. ‘I’d hate to lose you, I really would.’

‘Then I’ll make sure you don’t, Ad,’ he said, pulling her on to the bed. Before he could lift her skirt, they heard a dog barking furiously.

Bagsy sat up. ‘That sounds like trouble.’

There was a shifting population in Rockfield Place. It consisted largely of petty criminals, whores, drunkards and unemployed men. Respect for the law was not widespread. Precautions had therefore been taken against any visit by the police. A guard dog had been trained to bark at the sight of a police uniform. His warning had saved a number of fugitives from arrest. Whole families there might have been desperately short of food but the dog, a flea-bitten cur, was always well fed. He earned everything he ate. Four policemen had come purposefully into Rockfield Place. They grabbed the first woman they could find, a scrawny prostitute with missing teeth.

‘We’re looking for Adeline Goss,’ said the sergeant.

‘I can give you a better time in bed than her,’ she bragged, ‘and I charge less. Come on up to my room and I’ll prove it.’

‘Where is she?’

‘I’ll tell you later.’

He shook her violently and she screeched in protest. When she tried to break away, he held her tight. The dog snapped at his legs and he kicked it away. Under threat of arrest, the woman finally capitulated. She pointed a greasy finger.

‘Ad has the top room up there,’ she said.

They were off in a flash. Shoving her aside, the four policemen ran to the house in question and banged on the door. It was opened by a girl with ragged clothes and bare feet. Before she could ask what they wanted, they rushed past her and thundered up the stairs to the top floor. When they burst into her room, Adeline was sitting at the table, eating a biscuit and reading the newspaper. She feigned surprise.

‘Where have you all come from?’ she asked, one provocative hand on her hip. ‘No matter — I’ve been starved of business lately. You can take it in turns.’

‘We’re looking for Bagsy Browne,’ said the sergeant.

‘Well, he’s not here. Take a look if you don’t believe me.’

It took them less than a minute to search the room. They looked in every possible hiding place and peered under the bed. Adeline was unruffled.

‘I think an apology is in order,’ she said. ‘Don’t you?’

‘You should apologise for harbouring a killer,’ said the sergeant. ‘You’ve had Bagsy Browne up here, haven’t you?’

She was pugnacious. ‘Who says so?’

‘We have a witness who saw you together. Where’s Bagsy now?’

‘I’ve never heard of him.’

‘We’ve got no time to play games,’ he said, turning to the others. ‘She’s under arrest. Take her in for questioning.’

Adeline squawked in protest but she could not fight off the two strong men who took an arm apiece and carried her out of the room. After a last look around, the sergeant went out and slammed the door behind him. It was an hour before Bagsy Browne moved the concealed panel in the ceiling and lowered himself down.

It was early evening when they met Superintendent Steel at the Acland Tavern. Colbeck and Leeming were far more at ease than they had been over luncheon with Tallis. Steel had accepted them and they, in turn, had recognised his true merit. They could converse as friends and fellow policemen. When they heard about the bishop’s threat of bringing in the army, the detectives were dismayed.

‘The only time that soldiers are of use is when a riot has to be quelled,’ said Colbeck, ‘and even then I’d think twice about deploying them. We’re searching for one man, not trying to subdue an entire city.’

‘Bishop Phillpotts is afraid that he may be the next victim,’ said Steel.

‘That’s ridiculous.’

‘He believes that everything that’s happened is aimed at him.’

‘Then perhaps he should be examined by Dr Swift,’ suggested Colbeck. ‘He specialises in people with delusions. Incidentally,’ he continued, ‘I must thank you for passing on Dr Swift’s name. The way that he handled Mrs Rossiter was admirable. He’s the sort of man in whom one can have complete faith.’

‘I’ve heard nothing but good about Dr Swift. That’s why I recommended him. As for the bishop,’ continued Steel, ‘we all have our cross to bear, I fancy. When I met Superintendent Tallis, I sensed that he could be just as objectionable as Bishop Phillpotts. Am I right?’

‘He can be trying at times,’ conceded Colbeck.

‘He’s a monster,’ said Leeming. ‘He enjoys finding fault with us and always gets in our way. I wish that he’d go back to London and stop harassing us. We work so much better on our own. Let’s not talk about the superintendent,’ he went on. ‘It upsets my stomach. I wanted to ask you about Dawlish. Is there much crime there?’

‘Not as a rule,’ replied Steel. ‘Why do you want to know?’

‘The place appealed to me somehow. I could see myself living there with my family. It wouldn’t be too difficult to police. I could grow to like that.’

‘No you couldn’t,’ said Colbeck with a laugh. ‘You wouldn’t last five minutes there, Victor. You’d be bored to death by it. You thrive on action and I don’t think that a quiet Devonshire coastal resort will provide you with much of that. Isn’t that so, Superintendent?’

‘Nothing much happens in Dawlish,’ said Steel. ‘Nothing, that is, of interest to the police. Rowdy behaviour at the pub is all you’d have to contend with, Sergeant, and some very occasional larceny.’

‘You’re forgetting Michael Heygate,’ Leeming reminded him. ‘Dawlish could well have a killer lurking in its midst.’

‘I stand by my earlier judgement. Bagsy Browne is our man.’

‘I’m not ruling out Woodford,’ said Colbeck. ‘We could all be wrong, of course,’ he admitted. ‘It may be that none of our three suspects is guilty. The culprit could be someone else entirely.’

‘I don’t think so, Inspector. My money is on Bagsy.’

‘Are you any nearer to catching him?’

‘We believe that we are,’ said Steel, confidently. ‘Earlier today my men arrested a prostitute by the name of Adeline Goss. She lives in Rockfield Place and that’s infested with them. We received information that she knew Bagsy Browne and had recently been seen with him. That’s why I authorised the raid.’

‘What happened?’

‘Her room was searched but there was no sign of him.’

‘How reliable is your informant?’

‘He’s very reliable, as a rule,’ explained Steel, ‘because he needs the money. He’s an Irishman named Finbar Mulleady and he got fed up with eating prison food. So he mended his ways and became an informant instead. We’ve been paying for his drink these last couple of years.’

‘Did you get anything out of the woman?’ asked Leeming.

Steel grinned. ‘Yes, we got the vilest abuse I’ve ever heard.’

‘I take it that she even denied knowing Browne.’

‘They’re old friends. Several people have confirmed that.’

‘Are you certain of securing a conviction?’ asked Colbeck.

‘There’s no doubt about that. Mulleady is prepared to swear on oath that he saw them together in Rockfield Place, so she’ll be convicted of harbouring a wanted man. And once Adeline Goss is imprisoned, we have the perfect bait for Bagsy.’

‘Do you think he’d try to rescue her?’

‘I’m sure of it, Inspector. It’s the kind of perverted gallantry I’d expect of him. Catch his woman and we have a good chance of catching him.’

Colbeck was sceptical. ‘It may not be as simple as that.’

‘We have the trump card,’ said Steel. ‘We have Mulleady. His eyesight may get blurred after a few pints of beer but he knows what he saw. Bagsy and the woman are lovers. Because she aided him, he won’t desert her now. Once we’ve caught him,’ he added with a complacent smile, ‘we can prosecute Bagsy for the murder and Mulleady can collect a very large reward.’

A wet and blustery night kept most people at home but one man had been lured out. Impervious to the weather, he floated gently along the canal. Finbar Mulleady would be unable to claim anything now.