Gordon and Susanna Younger felt utterly humiliated. Under the searching gaze of Robert Colbeck, they were perched side by side on their sofa like a pair of enormous birds. Their lies had been swiftly exposed. They were known to have offered sanctuary to fugitives from the law. Their only hope lay in pleading ignorance of the crimes committed by Oxley and Irene. If they could portray themselves as innocent victims rather than accomplices, they might yet escape imprisonment. They did have one shred of comfort. When he realised that the suspects had fled, Colbeck had sent the two policemen off in search of them. It spared the Youngers further embarrassment. As their neighbours woke to a new morning, they would not look across and see telltale uniforms outside the home of their friends. How long it would remain the Youngers’ home, of course, was debatable.
Colbeck had searched the whole house before he was ready to question them. The long wait gave time for their fears to intensify. When he finally sat before them, he was in no mood for evasion.
‘Let me make one thing clear before we start,’ he said. ‘You tried to mislead me on your doorstep. If you lie to me again, I’ll arrest you at once and we’ll continue this interview at Scotland Yard. Is that understood?’
‘Yes, Inspector,’ said Younger, guiltily.
‘What about you, Mrs Younger?’
‘We’ll tell the truth,’ promised Susanna.
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Colbeck. ‘And bear in mind that I’ll be talking to both of your servants in a while. If you say something that they are unable to confirm, then I’ll know you deceived me.’ He took out a pad and pencil to make notes. ‘How long were they here?’
‘A few days,’ said Younger.
‘Did they come by invitation?’
‘No, Inspector, they turned up out of the blue.’
‘And why did they do that?’
‘Jerry Oxley was an old friend from the days when we lived in Yorkshire. We… kept in touch from time to time.’
‘Were you aware that he had a criminal record?’
‘We were not.’
‘He’s reputed to dress well and live in some style. Where did you imagine that his money came from?’
‘He mentioned an inheritance at one point.’
‘That could be a play on words, I suppose,’ said Colbeck, dryly. ‘If you rob somebody, then — technically — you inherit their money. Had either of you met Irene Adnam before?’ They shook their heads. ‘What did you think when Oxley arrived unexpectedly?’
‘It was typical of his behaviour.’
‘You didn’t mind?’
‘One makes allowances for old friends,’ said Younger.
‘In this case, I fancy, you made incredible allowances. You offered shelter to two dangerous criminals, both of whom were named in the newspapers yesterday, as you must have noticed.’
‘We rarely read newspapers, Inspector.’
‘I certainly couldn’t find any when I looked around.’
‘They’re always full of such dire news.’
‘Today’s editions will be especially dire,’ said Colbeck. ‘They will report the murder of my former colleague.’
‘I swear that we knew nothing about that, Inspector.’
‘We never wanted to know what Jerry did,’ Susanna blurted out. ‘It was none of our business. Until this time, we hadn’t seen him for almost two years. He seldom wrote to us. We had no idea where he was or what he was doing.’
‘That’s perhaps just as well, Mrs Younger,’ observed Colbeck. ‘Had you known the full record of his villainy, you couldn’t have tolerated him under your roof for a second.’
‘I’m glad you understand that, Inspector.’
‘We are law-abiding people,’ said Younger, earnestly. ‘Ask any of our neighbours. Or speak to the vicar — he’s keen for me to take over as churchwarden next year. I’m happy to accept the position. Does that sound like the action of someone who consorts with criminals?’
‘No, sir,’ replied Colbeck, ‘but it might interest you to know that days before they robbed a shop in Birmingham, your erstwhile guests attended church in Coventry. Even criminals are prone to religious promptings at times.’ He scrutinised Younger’s face. ‘You appear to be living in retirement, sir.’
‘That’s right. I was an archaeologist for many years but my knees finally gave out. It’s a noble profession but a dig does involve a lot of hard manual work. I restrict myself to writing the occasional article on the subject.’
‘Yes, I noticed the books in your study. Several were about archaeology. But when I went back for a closer look, I saw that most of them were medical textbooks. That’s an odd hobby. Do you have medical training, by any chance?’
There was a pause. ‘No,’ said Younger at length, forced back on deceit, ‘but my father did. He was a doctor in Bradford and, when he died, he bequeathed the books to me.’
‘What was his name?’
‘Why do you ask that, Inspector?’
‘Well, when people buy expensive books, they usually write their names in them, so I’d expect to find a Dr Younger. Yet when I glanced inside one tome, the name inscribed there was Dr Philip Oldfield.’
‘That was the original owner,’ said Younger, quickly. ‘My father bought the book second hand.’
‘Then he would surely have crossed out the name of the previous owner and replaced it with his own.’ Colbeck leant forward. ‘I’m a curious man, sir. It’s an occupational hazard. The truth is that I looked inside the covers of half-a-dozen of the medical books. Every one of them had Oldfield’s name inside. It seems that your father specialised in buying books from the fellow.’ His voice darkened. ‘Unless, of course, there’s another explanation…’
Younger said nothing but his face was expressive. Susanna looked even guiltier than he did, shifting her position and clenching her fists. A nervous smile brushed her lips.
‘I put it to you, sir,’ said Colbeck with assurance, ‘that you are Dr Oldfield and that, for some reason, you decided to be reborn as a younger man with a preference for archaeology. I’m intrigued to know why the counterfeit was necessary. When a man changes his name and invents a new profession for himself, he must have something to hide.’ He gave Younger a shrewd look. ‘What is it?’
Victor Leeming was bored. He’d been left at Willesden in case the fugitives eluded Colbeck and made their way to the station. Had they seen a uniformed policeman waiting there, they would have been alerted, whereas the sight of Leeming in plain clothes would not have forewarned them. The station was a small, featureless place with a few posters to divert him and a tiny kiosk that sold newspapers, books and other items that passengers might need. After a lengthy and unproductive wait, Leeming bought a newspaper and read the account of the murder of Ian Peebles. It had been drafted by Edward Tallis and copies had been sent to various editors. Leeming found no new details in it. As he read on, he felt a surge of grief at the death of their young fellow detective. Excessively proud to work alongside Colbeck and Leeming, Peebles had had his career terminated before it had really begun.
Another career had been brought to an end in the shooting and it was a much longer and more celebrated one. As a result of his action in exposing Peebles to danger, Tallis had resigned. It was a hugely significant act. At the very moment when the superintendent had announced his intentions, Leeming had experienced a sense of sheer joy. The man who’d terrified him for so many years was leaving Scotland Yard altogether. Two thoughts qualified his joy. The first was that Tallis would be a great loss to the police force. Fearsome as he could be, he was an efficient administrator and worked assiduously to improve the performance of those under him.
However, it was the second reservation that unnerved Leeming and made him wish that Tallis might, after all, stay in his job. If the superintendent left, the obvious candidate to replace him was Robert Colbeck. That would rob Leeming of the finest partner with whom he’d worked as well as his closest friend. Colbeck was at his best out in the field. Shackled to a desk and directing others, his talents would be wasted. The mistake that Tallis had made was to think that he could act just as decisively as Colbeck. He’d wanted to be an alternative Railway Detective and learnt that he was unfitted for the role. By the same token, Leeming felt, Colbeck would be a poor imitation of the superintendent. Each man needed the other in his present position. Reluctantly, Leeming accepted that Edward Tallis must somehow be persuaded to reconsider his decision to resign.
The approach of a trap made him get to his feet and walk to the exit. He saw one of the vehicles hired earlier and containing the two policemen. Leeming went across to them.
‘Did you catch him?’ he asked.
‘No,’ said one of the men, ‘he did a moonlight flit. We searched everywhere for him. He stole a horse and cart from a nearby farm but we’ve no idea where he went with it.’
‘What about Inspector Colbeck?’
‘He’s still at the house, talking to the owners.’
It was unkind and discourteous of him but for Colbeck it was a means to an end. In deliberately keeping his suspects in their dressing gowns, he deprived them of their camouflage and their nerve. Having found it in the wardrobe in the guest room, he also waved Oxley’s bloodstained waistcoat in front of them. It weakened what little resolve they still had. Faced with his probing, Gordon and Susanna had soon capitulated. They not only talked honestly about their guests’ brief stay with them, they divulged their real names and their reason for leaving Bradford. On searching for one set of fugitives, Colbeck had stumbled on another. He was astounded at the way Dr and Mrs Oldfield had maintained their new identities so successfully. They’d been Gordon and Susanna Younger for so long that they’d come to believe that that was who they really were. The vicar who’d approached Gordon to be churchwarden was in for a terrible shock.
Anna Oldfield, as she’d once been, said that she knew they’d be found out one day and that there was an element of relief in it. Her husband, however, took a very different stance, arguing that a doctor’s first duty was to relieve pain and that, if someone found life itself intolerably painful, he was justified in releasing that person from agony. Colbeck let him state his case before reminding him how his actions would be viewed in a court of law. As an accessory, his wife also had to prepare herself for a harsh sentence.
When he’d squeezed what he wanted out of them, Colbeck let them get dressed and eat a final breakfast at the house. He joined them at the table. Over a cup of coffee, he searched for more detail.
‘You say that Oxley kept on the move,’ he noted.
‘Yes,’ replied Oldfield, ‘that’s how he evaded arrest. Jerry had a sybaritic streak, Inspector. He was very fond of staying at hotels where he could be waited on hand and foot.’
‘Did he ever mention the names of any hotels?’
‘Not that I can recall.’
‘Jerry didn’t,’ said Anna, ‘but Irene did. It was when she and I were sitting in the garden one day. She confided to me how exciting it was to be with Jerry. He’d introduced her to a different world.’
‘Yes,’ said Colbeck, ‘one in which she’d have to kill someone.’ He raised a hand. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt you, Mrs Oldfield.’
She was startled. ‘It’s such a long time since I was called that.’
‘You were going to name a hotel.’
‘It was one in which they’d stayed not long ago and Irene said it was the most luxurious she’d ever known.’
‘Where exactly was it?’
‘Somewhere in Coventry.’
‘Then you’ve no need to say any more,’ Colbeck told her. ‘I’ve actually visited that establishment. It’s the Sherbourne Hotel.’
Irene was rocked. She’d never known Oxley make mistakes before yet he had now made three in succession. In retrospect, the move to London had been a grave error on his part. She had accepted the logic of it because Oxley had been so persuasive. It was their first mistake. The second had been his attempt to kill Inspector Colbeck. Having taken the trouble to choose an ideal location for the murder, Oxley had sent a note to Scotland Yard in the firm belief that it would draw the detective out into the open. In order to bait Colbeck, he’d included a reference to Helen Millington. In the end, however, the plan had turned into a fiasco. The wrong man had been shot and Colbeck remained alive to pursue them.
It was the third mistake that stunned Irene. Insisting that they were in no danger of being recognised from their descriptions in the newspapers, he suggested that they might recuperate at the Coventry hotel where they’d had such good service. Desperate for somewhere to rest, she’d agreed wholeheartedly. It was a fateful decision. Irene would never forget the look in Gwen Darker’s eyes as they stepped across the threshold of the hotel. She knew exactly who Mr and Mrs Salford really were and, in a carrying voice, ordered one of her staff to summon a policeman. Oxley and Irene had to take to their heels.
They were now at a hotel in Crewe, a railway junction that would allow them to escape, if the need arose, in one of various directions. To avoid being seen together, they checked in separately. Oxley waited until the coast was clear then joined her in her room. There was a frantic embrace.
‘I’m frightened, Jerry,’ she said.
‘You’ve no need to be.’
‘You keep saying that but it’s not true. Look what happened in Coventry. That manageress recognised us. She’ll tell the police and they’ll get into contact with Inspector Colbeck.’
‘But they’ll have no idea where we are.’
‘I wonder.’
He pulled her closer. ‘Stop worrying, will you?’ he said. ‘You never used to do this, Irene. We’ve had narrow shaves before and you found it exhilarating. Why get upset because Mrs Darker worked out who we must be?’
‘If she can do it, Jerry, so can someone else.’
‘Only if we’re seen together and we’ll move around separately from now on. The police are hunting for a couple, not for two single individuals. Wherever we stay, we’ll have different rooms.’
‘But I want to be with you,’ she pleaded.
‘You will be, Irene — all night long.’
‘This is starting to get me down,’ she admitted.
‘I know,’ he said, kissing her and starting to unbutton her dress. ‘I have just the cure for that.’
‘I keep thinking about Gordon and Susanna. What are they going to say when they realise that we ran away from them?’
‘I hope they have the sense to say nothing but I can’t guarantee that. Anyway, you can forget them. There’s no chance whatever of Inspector Colbeck finding out where we stayed in London.’ Undoing the last button, Oxley slipped his hand inside the dress to caress her breast. ‘He’ll still be chasing his tail at Scotland Yard.’
Victor Leeming was flabbergasted at the turn of events. When they followed the trail to Willesden, the last thing he envisaged was that they would arrest two people wanted by the Bradford Borough Police for a series of so-called mercy killings. On the train journey back to London with them, he thought that they were being arrested for having sheltered two killers. It was only when Philip and Anna Oldfield were in custody that he learnt of their criminal past. Leeming was staggered by the number of victims involved.
‘There were over a dozen?’ he gasped, eyes bulging. ‘I’m glad that he was never my doctor.’
‘The patients all seem to have been elderly women who begged him to rescue them from their misery. Oldfield still refuses to accept that he was committing a crime.’
‘It was murder, pure and simple.’
‘That’s not how he describes it,’ said Colbeck. ‘He claims that he spared them horrid, lingering deaths. I must write to the police in Bradford. After all this time, they’ll be grateful to get their hands on Dr and Mrs Oldfield again. It’s their case, Victor, and not ours. We have other fish to fry.’
‘I’d call Oxley more of a shark than a fish, sir.’
‘He certainly has a shark’s viciousness.’
‘He kills anyone who gets in his way.’
They were in Colbeck’s office at Scotland Yard, reviewing the day’s developments. Ordinarily, the inspector would have reported to Tallis as soon as he entered the building. That was no longer possible because his superior had resigned. He left behind him a feeling of emptiness. When Colbeck glanced in the direction of Tallis’s office, Leeming read his mind.
‘I don’t think that the superintendent should leave,’ he said.
‘Neither do I,’ said Colbeck.
‘It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? There have been hundreds of times when I’ve wished him out of here, yet the moment he does go, I miss him. He did his job well even if it meant yelling at me whenever I got within earshot of him.’
‘I don’t think his resignation will be accepted, Victor.’
‘If he wants to go, nobody can stop Mr Tallis.’
‘I’m hoping to talk him out of it.’
‘How can you do that?’ asked Leeming. ‘He was so shocked by what happened. Because they’d both been in the army, he looked on Ian Peebles with especial favour. I’m ashamed to say that I thought he’d never make the grade at first.’
‘He won’t get the opportunity to do so now, Victor. We just have to make sure that he didn’t die in vain,’ said Colbeck, ‘and the way to do that is to call Jeremy Oxley to account. Unlike Dr Oldfield, he can’t pass off his murders as mercy killings.’
‘You’re in complete control now, sir.’
‘That rather unnerves me. It feels wrong somehow.’
‘Will you draft in someone to replace Constable Peebles?’
‘No, I think that we can manage on our own.’
‘As acting superintendent, you’ll have several detectives to deploy and lots of other cases to supervise.’
Colbeck was adamant. ‘I’m still an inspector,’ he said, ‘and I intend to remain so for the foreseeable future. One thing I won’t do is to relinquish my part in this investigation. I owe it to Constable Peebles to pursue our enquiries with vigour. In a sense, he died in place of me. That leaves me with a sense of obligation.’
‘It’s the young lady I keep thinking about,’ said Leeming, sadly. ‘He talked so fondly of her — Catherine, her name was. It’s a tragedy. All their plans have suddenly turned to dust. He told me that the banns of marriage were being read for the first time next month.’
‘That would have been a very special moment.’
‘It was for me and Estelle. I was shaking with fear. When the vicar asked if anyone had just cause or impediment why we shouldn’t be joined together in holy matrimony, I was terrified that someone would jump up and spoil everything.’
‘They’d have had no reason to do so.’
‘That didn’t stop me worrying,’ said Leeming. ‘I suppose that the truth of it is that I never felt good enough for Estelle. I never believed that I deserved a wife as wonderful as her, so I kept waiting for someone to step in and take her away from me.’
‘Your fears were groundless. Anyone who’s seen the two of you together knows that you’re ideally suited.’
‘I still thank God every day for my good fortune. With a face like mine, I thought I’d be lucky to attract any woman, yet I finished up with a beautiful wife.’ He laughed with delight. ‘But I do remember sitting through the banns with my hands shaking. It was a test of nerves, I can tell you. Well,’ he added, ‘you’ll find that out for yourself, sir. When are your banns being read for the first time?’
Colbeck was taken aback. The question was innocent enough yet it left him befuddled. The truth was that he hadn’t given the matter any thought at all. Since the killer of Helen Millington had reappeared in his life after so many years, everything else had been pushed to the back of his mind. It was unfair on those close to him. They’d been neglected. Talk of marriage had reminded him of his engagement to Madeleine and he felt more than a twinge of guilt at the way he’d kept postponing a decision about the date of the wedding.
‘That’s yet to be decided,’ he said, evasively.
‘I think that you and Miss Andrews are a perfect match, sir.’
‘Thank you, Victor. I like to think that as well.’
‘Dirk Sowerby is still on about it,’ moaned Andrews. ‘He has this daft idea of sailing across the seven seas on a steamship.’
‘What’s so daft about it?’ she asked.
‘It will never happen, Maddy. He can’t afford it on his pay.’
‘Everyone is entitled to dream.’
‘It’s not a dream, it’s sheer nonsense. It just won’t happen.’
‘You never know, Father. Look at me. I used to think about marrying Robert one day but I never really believed that my dream would ever come true. Yet, against all the odds, it did.’
‘That’s because you’re very special, Maddy — Dirk is not.’
‘You’re being unfair on him. Last week you were telling me what a good driver he’ll make.’
‘It’s only because I taught him all he knows.’
‘Stop mocking his ambitions.’
‘I like to tease him. What harm is there in that?’
Andrews had returned home that evening in a jovial mood. It was not simply because he’d been drinking with his friends. As his retirement got ever nearer, he was coming to see the benefits that it would bring. He could still visit his favourite pub of an evening but he would no longer have to get up early the next morning to begin work again. A yoke would suddenly be removed from his neck. When they finished supper, he touched on a subject he’d raised before.
‘How would you feel if I was to get wed again, Maddy?’
She blinked. ‘Do you have someone in mind, Father?’
‘I might and I might not.’
‘Well, I’m not going to object, if that’s what you’re asking. You’re old enough to make your own decisions.’
‘It would be different if you were still here,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t feel it was right to bring another woman into the house. But when you’re gone and I have the place to myself, I may get lonely.’
‘Do you want to be married again?’
‘I do and I don’t.’
‘Stop going around in circles,’ she chided. ‘I might and I might not. I do and I don’t. I can and I can’t. If you start playing that game, we could be here all night.’
He cackled. ‘I simply wanted your opinion, Maddy.’
‘Then my opinion is that no woman would be misguided enough to take you on,’ she said, jokingly. ‘You’re too set in your ways and you’re too cantankerous. Why should anyone even look at you?’
‘Your mother did.’
‘You were a lot younger then.’
‘Love is nothing to do with age, Maddy. It can happen to us whether we’re seventeen or seventy. In fact, I fancy it goes deeper when you’re more mature. You’ve learnt how to appreciate it by then.’ She narrowed her eyelids. ‘Why are you staring at me like that?’
‘There’s something you’re not telling me, Father.’
‘Is there?’
‘I think you’ve met someone.’
‘I have and I haven’t. That’s to say,’ he added quickly to still her protest, ‘I’ve seen someone who aroused my interest. It’s nothing more nor less than that, I swear it. I just wanted to sound you out. When we’ve spoken about this before, there was a lot of bravado in what I was claiming. It’s different now. I’m serious.’
‘Then I’ll give you a serious answer,’ she said, affectionately. ‘I want you to be happy. If the best way to achieve happiness is to get married again, then I’m very much in favour of it.’ She smiled. ‘I wondered why you started coming to church more often. It’s someone in the congregation, isn’t it?’
‘Wait and see.’
‘Don’t be so coy about it.’
‘I’m just being practical,’ he said. ‘It’s pointless of me to think about my wedding when we still haven’t had yours. It’s only when you’ve left that the house will start to feel empty. That’s when I’ll need companionship, Maddy.’
‘Robert and I will set the date very soon.’
‘I think you should read today’s paper before you say that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘This case will take longer than you think. The man they’re after has killed again. Yesterday evening, he shot one of the detectives helping the inspector.’ She rushed into the other room and snatched up the newspaper. ‘Don’t worry — it’s not Sergeant Leeming.’
‘Then who is it?’ she asked, anxiously.
‘It was someone named Peebles.’
Tallis had always been a religious man. The Bible was his guide and he read a passage from it every day. In times of stress, he would always slip into church to pray for help and to get spiritual support. Head bowed low, he was on his knees now, pleading for forgiveness. Convinced that he was responsible for the death of Ian Peebles, he singled out pride as his besetting sin. It had blinded him to his shortcomings. He’d been too proud to admit that he had any failings and believed that he could emulate and even surpass Robert Colbeck. That myth had been shattered when he knelt over the corpse. Tallis now knew that he had profound limitations both as a man and as a detective. Given the facts, most of his colleagues would lay the blame squarely on him. Their silent disapproval was nothing compared to the way that he condemned himself. He was suffering.
He prayed hard until his knees began to ache. Hauling himself upright, he stepped into the aisle, inclined his head towards the altar then quietly left the church. On the walk back to his lodging, he was deep in thought. When he reached the house, therefore, he did not at first notice the figure standing outside it. Colbeck had to step right in front of him to get his attention.
‘Good day to you, sir,’ he said.
Tallis gave a start. ‘What are you doing here, Colbeck?’
‘I came to talk to you.’
‘I’m not in a talkative vein.’
‘There have been some important developments.’
‘They don’t concern me any longer,’ said Tallis, flicking a dismissive hand. ‘I’ve resigned from my post.’
‘That’s not strictly true, sir. When I spoke to the commissioner, he told me that he’d refused to accept your resignation and that he’d asked you to take time off in order to think again.’
‘I have thought again and my decision stands.’
‘There may be factors you haven’t taken into account.’
‘I blundered, Colbeck, that’s the only factor relevant.’
‘I disagree, Superintendent.’
‘And you can stop calling me that,’ said Tallis, testily. ‘It’s a title that I’ve surrendered. I’m just an ordinary citizen now.’
‘Not in my estimation,’ said Colbeck. He looked around. ‘Need we have this conversation in the street?’
‘There’s no need to have it at all.’
‘Have you already discussed it with someone else, then?’
‘No,’ conceded Tallis. ‘Apart from the commissioner, I haven’t confided in anyone. There’s no point in any discussion when my mind is so firmly made up.’
‘I think there’s every point, sir.’
It took Colbeck another ten minutes to persuade Tallis to invite him in. He’d never been there before and was interested to see where and how his superior lived. Tallis occupied the first floor of a large Georgian house in a square with a park at its centre enclosed by iron railings. As they entered the well-proportioned living room, Colbeck was surprised to see so much evidence of the older man’s religious devotion. There was a crucifix on one wall, marble angels at either end of the mantelpiece and three paintings of scenes from the New Testament. A leather-bound Bible stood on the desk in the window.
The air of piety was offset by an array of military memorabilia. There was a display cabinet filled with medals and small weaponry, a collection of sabres hanging on the walls and, in a dominant position over the fireplace, a portrait of the Duke of Wellington, the soldier Tallis most revered. A tall oak bookcase contained a few books on aspects of Christianity but it was largely given over to histories of various battles and the memoirs of those who’d fought in them. War, religion and the pursuit of criminals had been enough for Tallis. He sought nothing else from life.
Though he waved his visitor to a wing chair, Tallis offered him no refreshment. It was a signal that Colbeck would not be staying long. He was there on sufferance. Tallis sat opposite him, his features set in a permanent scowl. It was as if he were daring Colbeck to begin so that he could deny his request.
‘I’ve come of my own volition,’ said Colbeck. ‘I’m not here on behalf of anyone else — except Constable Peebles, that is.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I think that you should bear him in mind, sir.’
Tallis was stung. ‘How dare you!’ he cried. ‘Peebles has never been out of my mind. Since his death yesterday evening, I’ve thought about nothing else.’
‘Then why are you turning your back on him?’
‘I’m doing nothing of the kind, man.’
‘Yes, you are,’ argued Colbeck. ‘If you feel culpable for his death, you should feel an impulse to avenge it. In your shoes, I know that I would. Yet you’re actually walking away from the case. You are, in effect, letting his killer go free.’
‘I’ve lost the right to run this investigation.’
‘I don’t believe that and neither does the commissioner.’
‘It’s all over, Colbeck. I’m finished as a detective.’
‘You’re bound to feel guilty,’ said Colbeck. ‘I understand that. But the way to assuage that guilt is to lead the pursuit of Jeremy Oxley and his accomplice — not to abandon it.’
‘I’m accepting my punishment for failure.’
Colbeck laughed. ‘In that case, everyone in the department should resign, sir. I still squirm when I recall some of my failures and the same applies to others. Detection is not a perfectible art and never will be. The most that we can hope for is a reasonable amount of success. We simply don’t have the resources to solve every crime that’s committed,’ added Colbeck. ‘We have to select priorities and you are a master at doing that, sir. It’s your forte.’
‘It was, perhaps. That’s all past now.’
‘Is that what you wish me to tell the young lady?’
‘What young lady?’
‘The one who was betrothed to Constable Peebles — I believe that you spoke to her. When she gets over the initial shock of his death, she’ll want to know that we’re making every effort to apprehend his killer.’ His smile was quizzical. ‘Am I to tell her that you have no desire to take part in the search?’
‘That would be a gross misrepresentation.’
‘It’s exactly how it will appear to Catherine, sir.’
‘Nobody is more anxious to see Oxley brought to book than me. He’s a fiend in human shape and his accomplice is just as bad as him. They’ve now killed three policemen between them.’
‘I make the number four.’
‘There were two from Wolverhampton and one from London.’
‘You’re missing someone out, sir.’
He was perplexed. ‘Who’s that?’
‘Superintendent Edward Tallis,’ said Colbeck. ‘To all intents and purposes, he’s been killed as well. He’s withdrawn from the fight. He poses no threat to Oxley and is, in effect, posthumous.’
‘That’s babbling idiocy.’
‘I only describe the situation as I see it.’
‘And I’ve not withdrawn from the fight,’ said Tallis, vehemently. ‘I simply felt that I no longer deserve to hold the authority that I did.’
Colbeck sat back in the chair. Having planted a seed of doubt in Tallis’s mind, he sought to nourish it so that it would grow. He looked up at the portrait of Wellington whose stern eyes stared down either side of the famous hooked nose. Like Tallis, the Duke had never inspired great affection in those under his command but he did earn their respect. There was another similarity. Both men had a will of iron.
‘It’s a striking portrait,’ remarked Colbeck.
‘He was a striking man,’ said Tallis, ‘and merits the thanks of the whole nation for trouncing the French at Waterloo.’
‘Did he have an unblemished record of success?’
‘Nobody has that in the army, Colbeck. There are always minor setbacks and situations over which you have no control. The Duke was often hampered by scant resources but he nevertheless managed victories against superior numbers.’
‘That’s another parallel with you, then, sir.’
‘I’m no Duke of Wellington.’
‘Perhaps not, but you have some of his qualities. For example, you know how to get the best out of men under your command, especially when they are up against insuperable odds. You are a true leader, Superintendent.’
‘Stop using that title!’
‘Would the Duke have resigned when he met with a setback?’
‘He resigned because he had incompetent rivals alongside him. It was only when they realised how great a loss he was to the army that they restored him and put him in full command.’ Colbeck glanced at the portrait then stared at Tallis. ‘It’s presumptuous to compare me with the Duke. He was a genius. Besides, I’m no longer in the army.’
‘But you run the department with military precision.’
‘That’s just my way.’
‘Ian Peebles understood that, sir. He admired you greatly. I think he’d have expected you to atone for what you did by helping to catch his killer. Will you desert your post now of all times?’
Tallis was discomfited. His eyes went up to the portrait and he had to make an effort to turn them away. After weighing up what he’d been told, he turned away to ponder. Colbeck did not disturb his cogitations. It was minutes before Tallis broke the silence.
‘You say that there have been developments.’
‘Yes, sir,’ replied Colbeck, ‘I made two critical arrests this morning. In doing so, I solved a crime that’s been troubling the Bradford Borough Police for a number of years.’
Colbeck told him about the early morning visit to Willesden and how Gordon and Susanna Younger had been unmasked. They had provided an immense amount of information about the activities of Jeremy Oxley and Irene Adnam. Though he tried to remain indifferent, Tallis was patently intrigued by the sudden progress made. He wished that he’d been there to interrogate the two prisoners. His interest in the case was reawakened so much that he even tried to shift part of the blame onto Colbeck.
‘You must take some responsibility for what happened to Peebles,’ he said. ‘If you had not gone off on a wild goose chase to Coventry, you’d have been there to read your letter and to take the appropriate action. Constable Peebles would still be alive today.’
‘I wish that were true,’ said Colbeck, ‘but my trip to Coventry was not a wild goose chase. Mrs Darker, who runs the Sherbourne Hotel there, was able to identify two of her guests as Jeremy Oxley and Irene Adnam. She did so for the second time today.’
‘How can you possibly know that?’
‘When they fled from the house, they decided to go to ground in a hotel where they’d enjoyed their stay. Accordingly, they arrived at the Sherbourne late this morning. Mrs Darker recognised them and sent for the police.’
‘Were they apprehended?’
‘Alas, no,’ admitted Colbeck, ‘but they were chased away. I had a telegraph from the local police. They’re scouring the town in case the two suspects are still in the vicinity.’
‘The chase is on, then,’ said Tallis, excitedly. ‘We have their scent in our nostrils.’
‘Are you going to miss out on the hunt, sir? Or would you prefer to sit here and read about the campaigns of the Duke of Wellington?’ He stood up. ‘Please excuse me. I must get back. Urgent matters demand my attention. But I leave you with this thought,’ he said. ‘Were his ghost standing before you now, what do you think Constable Peebles would want you to do?’
Tallis pondered afresh, looked up at the portrait then rose to his feet. He walked across to the window and stared out in the direction of Scotland Yard. Colbeck opened the door to leave.
‘Goodbye, sir,’ he said, hovering. ‘I’m very sorry to discover that you are beyond the reach of persuasion. I’ll pass on the bad news to the commissioner.’
‘Wait!’ said Tallis, making up his mind. ‘I’ll come with you.’