‘Was the stationmaster right about that room at the Swan?’ asked Colbeck. ‘Did you have to contend with cobwebs and beetles?’
‘They were the least of my worries,’ complained Leeming. ‘The place was draughty, the mattress like a board and I saw two mice scurrying about. There was also an empty keg in the room so I had to put up with the smell of stale beer. Then, of course, there was the noise from above. Every time someone moved about, the floorboards creaked.’
‘We’ll have to find you better accommodation, Victor.’
‘It was the superintendent’s decision to put me there.’
‘If we can persuade him to return to London,’ said Colbeck, ‘then you can have his room at the Black Bull. They looked after us very well there.’
The two men were travelling by rail to Northallerton. It gave Colbeck the chance to describe the frosty confrontation with Frederick Skelton, the obdurate rector, and it allowed Leeming time to moan about his unhappiness.
‘I miss my wife dreadfully,’ he confessed. ‘It’s not the same when Estelle is not there. When can I go back to her?’
‘Not until this mystery is solved.’
‘Well, I think that it already has been. I didn’t take to that self-important railway policeman but I fancy that he may be right. The colonel’s wife ran away from him.’
‘Then whom did she run to, Victor?’ asked Colbeck. ‘That’s what puzzles me. The obvious person to go to would be her daughter yet that’s not what happened. Mrs Tarleton would hardly just take to her heels without any idea of a destination.’
‘She could be in hiding somewhere.’
‘I doubt that. The suicide has had widespread publicity. It will even be in the London newspapers. Were she still alive, the colonel’s wife would surely have seen the news by now. With her husband dead, there’d be no need for her to conceal herself. No,’ he went on, ‘I incline to the view that she was murdered and that her body is still in the vicinity. We have to stay here until we can find it.’
Leeming groaned. ‘That could take ages, sir.’
‘Estelle will have to do without you for a little longer.’
‘Wait until you’re married. Then you’ll understand how painful it is to be without the woman you love.’
‘Oh, I’ve already found that out,’ said Colbeck, resignedly.
Northallerton was a long-established community with a population of around five thousand. It was a thriving market town, a parliamentary borough and the administrative centre of the North Riding. Though he’d already been there, Leeming had only touched the outskirts and he was interested to see the busy streets, fine houses, churches, public buildings, suites of offices and the countless shops at the heart of the place. The bank was situated in a prominent position in the High Street and, once they’d introduced themselves, they were conducted to the manager’s office.
Bertram Reader gave them an effusive welcome.
‘I’m so relieved to see you, gentlemen,’ he said, shaking their hands in turn. ‘This whole business needs to be sorted out once and for all. Do sit down.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Colbeck.
While he and Leeming settled into an armchair apiece, the manager returned to the high-backed chair behind his desk.
‘The North Riding has everything that one could desire,’ he went on, ‘but in one instance, it is glaringly deficient. It has, as yet, no county constabulary.’
‘Then it’s one of the last places in England to be without one,’ said Colbeck. ‘In the wake of a Royal Commission over fifteen years ago, an Act was passed enjoining all boroughs to examine the possibility of reorganising their police forces. Most have complied.’
‘I have high hopes that we will follow their example in the near future,’ said Reader. ‘What’s held us back, I need hardly tell you, is the fear of great expense.’
‘It’s more expensive to let crime go unchecked,’ said Leeming.
‘I couldn’t agree more, Sergeant. However, let’s forget our shortcomings with regard to law enforcement. We’re honoured to have two detectives from Scotland Yard to help us at this time of trial.’ He spread his arms. ‘Please feel free to ask me anything you wish.’
Reader was a trim figure in immaculate clothing. Still in his forties, he’d retained all of his hair and most of his youthful energy. The office was large and well appointed and the general impression was of an efficient man holding an important position at a high salary. They noticed how tidily he kept his desk, papers and files stacked neatly in order. Across that desk, thousands of transactions had been made over the years. Reader exuded a quiet benevolence. He was a man whom clients of the bank could trust.
‘I believe that you and the colonel were friends,’ Colbeck began.
‘That’s correct, Inspector,’ replied the other.
‘So you saw him and his wife a great deal.’
‘At least once a week, I’d say – until recently, that is. Over the last few months, it was more like once a fortnight.’
‘Why was that?’
‘The colonel told us that he was very busy. He turned down some of our invitations and accepted others. The four of us liked to play whist together.’
‘Did you play for money, sir?’ asked Leeming.
Reader smiled. ‘I’m a banker, Sergeant. I never gamble.’
‘That’s very wise of you. When I was still in uniform, I lost half a week’s pay in a card game. I learnt a lesson from that.’
‘On the day of her disappearance,’ said Colbeck, ‘Mrs Tarleton set out to walk to your home.’
‘She and Agnes – that’s my wife – intended to go shopping.’
‘What did Mrs Reader think when her visitor didn’t turn up?’
‘Well,’ said the banker, ‘she thought it very strange. It was unlike Miriam Tarleton to be late. Were she indisposed, she’d have sent someone with a message to that effect. By the time I got home that evening, my wife was very anxious. To put her mind at rest, I offered to ride over to the house but Agnes felt that unnecessary. She decided that a mistake had been made about the arrangements.’
‘Was Mrs Tarleton in the habit of making mistakes?’
‘Far from it – ordinarily, she was very reliable.’
‘How did she get on with her husband?’ asked Leeming.
‘What an odd question!’ said Reader. ‘If you’d known them, you’d never have needed to ask it. They were happily married and always had been.’
‘We were told there were tensions in the house.’
Reader was terse. ‘Then you’ve been misinformed, Sergeant. There were some tensions when the children were there, I grant you, but everything was much more serene after that. Adam was the problem. He was a natural rebel. His sister was a sweet girl and I was sorry when she left to get married. In all honesty, however, I have to admit that I was glad to see the back of Adam Tarleton.’
‘Adam and Eve,’ noted Colbeck. ‘Was Mrs Tarleton religious?’
‘She came from a clerical family,’ explained Reader. ‘Her father was a rural dean and her brother was in holy orders. Her first husband – God rest his soul – was a parish priest. He died of cholera and left her with two small children. When the colonel came into her life, it was a real blessing.’
Having hit his stride, Reader went on to describe the marriage in more detail and to pour scorn on the idea that Colonel Tarleton had murdered his wife. Appalled at the news of the suicide, he viewed it as an act of temporary madness and refused to condemn his friend.
‘It’s reassuring to hear someone speaking up for him,’ said Colbeck. ‘Early this morning, the superintendent and I were cornered by the rector of St Andrew’s, who told us bluntly that he wouldn’t allow the deceased to be buried in the churchyard.’
‘I think I know what’s behind that decision,’ said Reader.
‘So do I – ignorance of the law.’
‘There’s a more personal reason. Frederick Skelton studied theology with Miriam Tarleton’s first husband. They were very close. In fact, he was godfather to their children. The colonel attended church every Sunday but, clearly, he was nowhere near as devout a Christian as his predecessor.’
‘Did Mr Skelton resent that?’
‘Very much,’ said Reader. ‘And he resented the way that Adam – his godson, remember – was brought up by the colonel. There was no spiritual dimension to the boy’s life. No wonder he veered off the straight and narrow. Regarding the rector’s attitude to the funeral,’ he continued, ‘that’s not just an aversion to an act of suicide. Like so many other misguided people, he believes that the colonel killed his wife and is therefore a species of devil.’
‘Everyone must be presumed innocent until proved guilty.’
‘The colonel has been denied that right.’
‘Have you any idea who the killer is?’ asked Leeming.
Reader sighed. ‘I wish that I did, Sergeant. My wife and I both joined in the search for her. The colonel was distraught. Nobody who saw the state he was in could think for a moment that he committed the crime. His innocence must be attested.’
‘If she’s here,’ said Colbeck, ‘we’ll find her.’
‘I sincerely hope that you will.’
‘Before then, however, we have to make extensive enquiries. One of the people to whom I’d like to speak is your wife. She was, after all, the person Mrs Tarleton was on her way to see.’
‘Call at my home whenever you wish,’ urged Reader, taking out his wallet and extracting a card. ‘This is our address.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Colbeck, getting up to receive the card.
‘Agnes will be as eager to help you as I am, though you’ll find her in very low spirits. The Tarletons were good company. We spent so many happy times with them. We watched their children grow up and shared a number of family outings with them. Not to put too fine a point on it, they were our best friends.’
Leeming was curious. ‘Did they have any enemies?’
‘None at all – unless you count their son, that is.’
‘Was he really such a problem?’
‘His stepfather loathed him and his mother indulged him. He must have drunk and gambled his way through a small fortune. When the money dried up, Adam became angry and sent his mother the most abusive letters.’
‘You say that the money dried up,’ said Colbeck, seizing on the phrase. ‘We had the feeling that the family had run into financial difficulties. Is that true?’
Reader was wary. ‘Yes, it is, Inspector,’ he replied. ‘I can’t go into details without breaching confidentiality. Suffice it to say that the colonel and his wife had to draw in their horns a little.’
‘I’ll press you no further on the subject, sir. You’ve been very helpful. Now that we happen to be in town, we’ll avail ourselves of the opportunity to call on Mrs Reader.’ He signalled to Leeming who rose to his feet. The banker also got up. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘I’d be grateful if you would keep me informed of any developments.’
‘We will, sir.’
‘Have you picked up any clues at all since you’ve been here?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Colbeck. ‘At least, we have a starting point.’
‘And what’s that?’ asked Reader.
‘The railway.’
Clifford Everett’s office was on the top floor of the building, obliging Tallis to walk up three long flights of stairs. By the time he reached the top, he was panting. He took a few moments to recover before rapping on the door with his knuckles. In response to a crisp invitation, he went into the lawyer’s domain.
‘Good morning, Major Tallis,’ said Everett.
‘Actually, I’m here in a different guise today.’
‘In what way, pray?’
Tallis explained that he was employed by the Metropolitan Police Force and that a letter from the colonel had brought him to Yorkshire to unravel a mystery. Everett listened stonily. Years earlier, the two men had met more than once at social gatherings when Tallis was always introduced by his former rank. Everett had assumed that he was a retired army man. Hearing that he was, in fact, a detective made the lawyer defensive.
‘You misled us, Superintendent,’ he said.
‘I didn’t wish to court any embarrassment,’ Tallis told him. ‘Policemen are never popular. Everyone is suspicious of us. It was easier for me to pass myself off as an old soldier when I visited the colonel. That, in effect, was exactly what I was.’
‘I don’t accept that. You lied to us.’
Everett was a portly man in his fifties with a round, red face and a large head decorated by tufts of white hair. He had piggy eyes that lacked any sparkle and were constantly on the move. Gesturing his visitor to a chair, he resumed his seat behind the desk and clasped his hands tightly across his stomach.
‘So…you are not here merely as a friend,’ he observed.
‘I’m here to investigate a terrible crime.’
‘Are you referring to murder or to suicide?’
‘Both are interlinked,’ said Tallis. ‘In finding the killer, I’ll be absolving the colonel of any wrongdoing and bringing to justice the fiend who provoked a blameless man to take his own life.’
‘There are some who think the colonel was far from blameless.’
‘Are you one of them, Mr Everett?’
‘Heavens, no!’ exclaimed the other, hastily. ‘I take no sides in the matter.’
‘Well, you should, sir. As Colonel Tarleton’s lawyer, you should be protecting him from some of the vile accusations that are flying around. He paid you well for your services. Earn your keep.’
‘What am I supposed to do?’
‘To begin with, you can take legal action against those who are whispering vicious lies into the ears of journalists. Libel and slander are abroad, Mr Everett. Strike them down and show no quarter.’
‘Where am I to start, Superintendent? What you call slander is the general opinion. Go into any public house and you’ll find dozens of people convinced that the colonel murdered his wife. It’s the same elsewhere. How am I to take action against such overwhelming odds?’
‘By making an example of the worst offenders,’ said Tallis.
‘I can do nothing until the inquest is over tomorrow.’
‘Why should that delay you?’
‘Because it may throw more light on what actually happened,’ said Everett, raising his voice to hide the sound of subterranean gurgles from his stomach. ‘Evidence of all kinds will be introduced. After his body was discovered on the railway line, certain items were taken from the colonel’s house. They may not only tell us about his state of mind when he set out that day, they may also give us a fuller understanding of why his wife disappeared.’
Tallis was livid. ‘What are you expecting – a signed confession?’
‘It’s not beyond the bounds of possibility.’
‘You should be ashamed even to entertain such thoughts. Do you have no respect for the concept of loyalty to your clients?’
‘Of course I do,’ said Everett, indignantly.
‘When did you last see the colonel?’
‘It was about a week ago.’
‘And what brought him here?’
‘I’m not at liberty to divulge that, Superintendent. All that I can tell you is that our meeting had an elegiac feel to it.’
‘Are you saying that he was…taking his leave of you?’
‘That was how it felt.’
‘Given the way you’ve deserted him,’ said Tallis, hotly, ‘he should have taken his leave of you a lot earlier.’
Everett was on his feet. ‘I won’t have you casting aspersions on my professional competence,’ he said. ‘I served the colonel to the best of my ability for many years and I regret his passing. As a lawyer, I’m in an invidious position because I have his last will and testament in my safe. I promised to fulfil his wishes to the letter but I can hardly do that if the inquest rules that his goods and chattels are forfeit to the Crown. So you see, I have enough on my plate without your coming in here and insulting me.’
Tallis gave a gruff apology and Everett sat down again, only partially mollified. Prompted by Tallis, he gave an account of his dealings with the colonel in recent times and he spoke well of the dead man’s character. Since he also acted for Mrs Tarleton, he was able to talk about her occasional visits to his office in the preceding months.
‘Did they ever come here together?’ asked Tallis.
‘Once or twice,’ answered Everett. ‘Actually, I preferred it when it was a joint visit. The colonel could be a trifle short-tempered. You and he have that in common, Superintendent. When Mrs Tarleton was with him, he was always on his best behaviour.’
After brooding for a while, Tallis rose from his chair.
‘Thank you, Mr Everett,’ he said. ‘I’ll impose on you no longer.’
‘I’m always available to an officer of the law.’
‘Why do you think that Miriam Tarleton went missing?’
‘I prefer to reserve my judgement, sir.’
‘You mean that you’d rather sit on the fence.’
‘Fences are too precarious. I’d rather lurk in the shadows.’
‘It’s the best place for you,’ said Tallis, pointedly, and headed for the door.
‘One moment, Superintendent,’ called the other, opening a drawer in his desk and taking something out. ‘You may find this interesting.’
‘What is it?’
‘I’m afraid that it’s a fairly accurate reflection of what the people of Northallerton – and still more of South Otterington – are thinking and feeling. It’s a broadside entitled Railway to the Grave .’
Tallis wrinkled his nose. ‘What a revolting title!’
‘When I arrived this morning, this was on sale in the street.’
‘I’m surprised you’d bother with anything so tasteless.’
‘I wanted to see what the general mood was.’ He handed it over. ‘Read it for yourself. The poet will never rival Mr Tennyson but he has an earthy directness about his style.’
Gritting his teeth, Tallis read the opening stanzas. Now here’s a murd’rous tale of woe, See a hero misbehave. For it shows a valiant soldier go By railway to the grave. What drives a man to take his life Upon the iron rails? Is it to do with the death of a wife And the guilt that then prevails? Suicide is a fearful crime, Of darkest deeds, none chiller. When he lay crushed upon that line Had he simply killed a killer?
Tallis had seen enough. Spluttering with fury, he screwed the paper up and hurled it to the floor with disgust.
‘If I find the man who’s selling this detestable slime,’ he yelled, ‘I’ll tear him limb from limb!’
Agnes Reader’s account of the fateful day was protracted because she kept breaking down to sob. Colbeck and Leeming listened without ever daring to interrupt. She was a slight woman in her early forties with an attractive face distorted by pain and awash with tears. Having relived a harrowing experience, she ended on a pleading note.
‘Should I have done more?’ she asked. ‘After waiting and waiting for hours on end, should I have gone out to search for her there and then? Had I done so, would I perchance have saved Miriam’s life? Tell me, please, that I did all that I should have done.’
‘You’ve nothing to reproach yourself with, Mrs Reader,’ said Colbeck. ‘The likelihood is that Mrs Tarleton was killed shortly after she parted company with the colonel. Someone must have trailed them and – the moment he saw her unaccompanied – he struck.’
‘I have nightmares when I think about it.’
‘Your husband told us how fond you were of them both.’
Agnes gave a hopeless shrug. ‘They were our best friends.’
It was a sizeable house on the edge of the town with views of the fields over which anyone coming from South Otterington would have walked. The detectives were in the drawing room, seated opposite the vision of sadness that was Agnes Reader. Dressed in black out of respect, she had a black-edged lace handkerchief to wipe away her tears.
‘Mrs Reader,’ said Colbeck, gently, ‘I’m given to understand that Mrs Tarleton always took the same route here from the village.’
‘That’s true, Inspector,’ she replied. ‘It’s a well-worn path and the one that my husband and I have often taken when we’ve walked over there on a summer afternoon. When it’s too cold or rain is in the air, we travelled in the trap.’
‘Could you please show us the precise route?’
Colbeck had brought an ordnance survey map of the area and he unfolded it on a low table, smoothing it out with the flat of his hand. Agnes leant over to peer at it.
‘Here,’ she said, pointing at a spot beyond South Otterington. ‘This is the house. They would have left there and followed the track to the village. After that, they’d come this way.’ Her finger traced the journey. ‘When they reached this point here, Miriam would have parted from Aubrey – from the colonel – and kept to a path that zigzags its way before eventually straightening out.’
‘It’s not all open countryside,’ noted Leeming, interpreting the symbols. ‘There’s a wood marked here and I daresay there are odd copses dotted about.’
‘That’s quite right, Sergeant,’ she agreed.
‘In addition to that,’ said Colbeck, ‘there’d be bushes and trees along the margins of the fields and perhaps a hollow or two. There are probably several places where someone could ambush a passer-by. Did Mrs Tarleton have no fear of walking here alone?’
‘None whatsoever,’ said Agnes, ‘and the same goes for me. I’ve done that walk on my own many times and so had she. Neither of us had the slightest fear. This is a law-abiding part of the county. We can come and go in complete safety.’
‘That’s good to hear,’ said Leeming. ‘You couldn’t say that about some of the districts we visit in London. You take your life in your hands when you walk down some streets.’
‘The situation here is very different, Sergeant,’ said Colbeck. ‘The murder – if indeed that’s what it was – is all the more shocking for being such an unusual event. Mrs Tarleton was caught off guard.’
‘What could have been the motive, Inspector?’
‘We can’t hazard a guess until we find the body. Presumably, she’d have been carrying a handbag and wearing jewellery of some description. If all that is missing, then theft might be the motive.’
‘I don’t want to hear any other suggestions,’ said Agnes, hands to her ears. ‘I just pray that she was not molested in any way. I couldn’t bear that thought. My husband says that I must try to put it out of my mind the way that he does when he’s at work. But I find it impossible to do that. A few weeks ago we had two wonderful friends. One of them has disappeared and the other was mangled by a train. How can I put such horrors out of my mind?’
‘You can’t, Mrs Reader. You have too many emotional ties to the victims. It’s only right and proper that you should dwell on their deaths. I know that your husband feels the loss deeply as well. His position at the bank requires him to put on a brave face,’ said Colbeck, ‘but we could see that he was suffering inside.’
‘Bertram has been my salvation,’ she confided. ‘I don’t know how I would have borne up without him. He’s had to find the strength to keep both of us from sinking into absolute despair. And yes, he has suffered. He loved them as much as I did. He’s just better at hiding his feelings than I am.’
‘He told us that, on the day in question, he got back here to find you in great distress.’
‘He was late home that evening because he’d been to see a client in Darlington. By that time, I was sick with worry. Bertram wanted to ride over to the house to make sure that all was well and to put my mind at rest. For some reason,’ she admitted, ‘I wouldn’t let him. I convinced myself that, if anything unpleasant had happened to Miriam, her husband would have sent word. Oh dear!’ she wailed, a hand to her mouth. ‘I’ll have to go through it all again at the inquest tomorrow. I’m not sure that I’ll be able to manage it.’
‘I’m sure that you will, Mrs Reader,’ said Leeming.
‘And so am I,’ added Colbeck. ‘You’ve done splendidly here with us and you’ll do the same in public.’ He folded up his map. ‘We’ll intrude on your grief no longer.’
‘The pain is all the more searing because we don’t know what befell Miriam that day. Until the truth comes out, I’ll never be able to mourn her properly.’ She turned moist eyes upon Colbeck. ‘We’ve been everywhere but the search has so far been in vain. Is there any hope at all that you can find her, Inspector? Is there any hope that we’ll finally know the truth?’
Touched by her plight and by the ravaged beauty of her face, Colbeck weighed up the evidence he had already gathered.
‘I think that I can guarantee it,’ he said.