The news that Bagsy Browne had finally been captured was quickly disseminated throughout the city. It was the main topic of discussion in the pubs, shops and streets of Exeter. Henry Phillpotts was in the library in the bishop’s palace when he was told. He was delighted. At a stroke, the threat of attack he perceived as looming over him was swept away, allowing his vengeful streak to come to the fore.
‘The man should be hanged, drawn and quartered!’ he decreed.
‘That punishment was used for treason,’ Barnes pointed out, ‘and, in my opinion, it was unnecessarily barbaric. When the body was quartered, the four parts were sent to separate corners of the kingdom by way of a warning.’
‘It’s the fate that Browne deserves.’
‘Happily, it’s no longer on the statute book. Do you really wish the public to be treated to the grisly sight of a man being hanged until he’s on the point of expiry then cut down so that he can be sliced open and have his intestines drawn out? What purpose is served by such a hideous spectacle, Bishop?’
‘It would bring me satisfaction.’
‘It’s nothing short of butchery.’
‘And what about Browne’s butchery?’ retorted Phillpotts. ‘Have you so soon forgotten what he did to the stationmaster? He battered him to death, then burnt the body to provide amusement to the public. I may sound vindictive but I believe that we should reward cruelty with judicial cruelty.’
‘We must agree to differ on that score.’
‘The Old Testament teaches us to demand an eye for an eye.’
‘I’ve no wish to take issue with such a learned theologian as you,’ said Barnes. ‘That would be foolhardy and presumptuous. I simply feel that we should let the law take its course. You’re still too inflamed by the outrages that Browne directed at you to take an objective view.’
Phillpotts took several deep breaths before speaking. ‘Then it’s just as well that I have you to introduce a note of reason,’ he said, calming down. ‘I owe you my thanks. I’m getting old, Ralph. My stock of forgiveness has run low. In its place is this venomous impulse to inflict far more pain than I myself have suffered.’ His voice hardened. ‘But I still wish to watch Browne hang.’
‘That’s a popular sentiment in the city.’
‘It’s a pity that Inspector Colbeck won’t be here to witness it. He, after all, is the hero of the hour. If reports are correct, he pursued the villain for over a hundred yards, then jumped on him even though Browne was armed with a dagger.’
‘He showed exceptional courage, Bishop.’
‘He needs to be told how much we appreciate what he did.’
‘You wish to send him a letter?’
‘I’ll draft it immediately. I took Colbeck for yet another stubborn and single-minded policeman but he’s redeemed himself in my eyes. He had the wit to recognise Browne and the nerve to challenge him.’ Sitting at his desk, he reached for his quill pen and dipped it in the inkwell. ‘Now, then … how shall I phrase it?’
‘Before you commit pen to paper,’ warned Barnes, ‘there’s something you should know. There’s a rumour going round that Inspector Colbeck is still not entirely persuaded that Browne is the man who killed Mr Heygate.’
‘Of course he is!’ exploded Phillpotts. ‘It’s as plain as the nose on my face. Whatever is the inspector thinking? He goes to all the trouble of catching a brutal killer then has doubts about his guilt? It’s monstrous!’
‘That’s why I suggest you should hold fire, Bishop.’
‘Who does he think did commit the murder?’
‘I’ve no idea. I merely passed on a rumour that may or may not be correct.’
Phillpotts put the pen aside. ‘I’ll delay my letter until I know the truth of it,’ he said. ‘I’m certainly not going to congratulate a man who thinks that Browne is innocent of the murder. How can he be so blind?’
‘We may be maligning him unfairly,’ said Barnes. ‘Perhaps we should give him the benefit of the doubt. Inspector Colbeck won’t even have had time to question the prisoner. He may even be able to wrest a full confession out of him.’ Phillpotts laughed mirthlessly. ‘Given what we know of Browne, I accept that it may be next to impossible.’
‘Browne is a seasoned liar. He’ll confess nothing.’
‘He’s up against a worthy adversary, Bishop. In my estimation, Inspector Colbeck is a very astute man. Didn’t Mr Tallis tell us on Sunday that the inspector used to be a barrister?’
‘I believe that he did.’
‘Then he’ll know how to cross-examine the prisoner.’
They were taking no chances. Since Browne had rescued a prisoner from a police cell, extra precautions were put in place at the police station. Every door was locked and the man himself was handcuffed. He was interviewed in a bare room with a barred window. Policemen were on sentry duty outside the building. Before he could question the prisoner, Colbeck had returned to the Acland Tavern, glad that he’d had the foresight to bring a change of trousers with him. He would never have consented to question any suspect while wearing a pair of torn trousers, especially if both knees had been scuffed. As a courtesy, he permitted Superintendent Steel to take part in the interview. Arms folded, Leeming stood in front of the door to prevent any dash for freedom. While he was glad that Browne was at last in custody, he wished that he’d made the arrest. A tussle with an armed man was meat and drink to him.
Browne was seated on an upright chair with the wound on his head bandaged. Colbeck and Steel sat opposite him but the prisoner only had eyes for the inspector. It was a blow to Browne’s pride that he’d been captured and he bristled with resentment at Colbeck. Even though his hands were manacled behind his back, he looked as if he was about to launch an attack on him at any moment.
Colbeck was droll. ‘You’ve been rather busy, Mr Browne,’ he began. ‘A long list of crimes can be laid at your door.’
‘I’m innocent of every one of them.’
‘Do you deny assaulting a man by the name of Wyatt?’
‘Yes.’
‘He was a prison warder known to you.’
‘Then he deserved what happened to him.’
‘He recognised you in the street,’ said Steel.
‘A lot of people do. I’m a handsome man.’
‘Yet you still deny the attack?’
‘I was defending myself against a violent assault.’
‘You were being sought by the police,’ Colbeck reminded him.
Browne’s face was motionless. ‘Was I?’
‘Every newspaper carried details of the search.’
‘I never read newspapers, Inspector. They’re full of lies.’
‘You must have known that the police were after you.’
‘They’re always after me. They’ve got nothing better to do.’
‘Whenever you come to this city,’ said Steel, rancorously, ‘you leave a trail of wreckage behind you. Last time, it was confined to theft and disorder. This time, the crimes are far more serious.’
‘Wyatt beat me black and blue in prison. Why not arrest him?’
‘We’re not talking about Mr Wyatt.’
‘You should do, Superintendent. You don’t know half of what goes on behind those prison walls. They flog you if you so much as fart.’
‘Let’s turn to another charge,’ said Colbeck. ‘On Sunday evening, you came in here and knocked the duty sergeant unconscious before rescuing a woman by the name of Adeline Goss. In the course of your escape, you wounded Superintendent Tallis of Scotland Yard.’
‘He was in our way.’
‘You came in here prepared to use a weapon.’
‘I told him to stand aside.’
‘It was a case of attempted murder,’ said Steel.
‘No,’ returned Browne, vehemently. ‘I gave him a prod, that’s all. If I’d wanted to kill him, I’d have cut his throat from ear to ear.’
‘At the very least,’ said Colbeck, ‘you face a charge of malicious wounding. That’s in addition to the other crimes you committed while you were here.’
‘A friend of mine was in trouble. I helped her.’
‘She was harbouring a wanted man. That’s illegal.’
‘She committed no crime. Since I’ve been in Exeter, I’ve seen Ad for less than five minutes. Someone saw us together and claimed I was hiding in her room. Did your men find me there, Superintendent?’ he challenged. ‘No — of course, they didn’t because I was never in Rockfield Place. Ad was wrongly arrested.’
‘She was your accomplice, Mr Browne.’
‘I always work alone.’
‘Then why did you put her on the train this morning?’
‘That wasn’t Ad,’ said Browne, blithely. ‘It was a woman I spent the night with. She never told me her name.’
‘I believe it was Adeline Goss,’ said Colbeck, ‘but we’ll soon know the truth of it. After Sergeant Leeming dragged you off here, I took the trouble to speak to the clerk in the ticket office. When I described your appearance, he remembered selling you a single ticket to Plymouth. I promptly sent a telegraph with enough detail for them to identify the lady in question. I asked that she be detained at Plymouth station and brought back here immediately. We’ll put her in the next cell to you,’ he went on with a disarming smile, ‘then you can discover the name of the person with whom you admit you spent the night. You can exchange fond reminiscences.’
Bagsy Browne shifted uncomfortably on his chair.
The train journey from Exeter to Plymouth was just over fifty miles, taking the passengers past some of the most glorious sights in the county. It was almost as if the line had been constructed specifically to display uninterrupted scenic beauty. Adeline Goss saw little of it and cared even less about it. Her mind was on the new life on which she’d just embarked. She’d be a different woman with a different name in a different town. There was a surface excitement but it was underscored by the disappointment of parting with Bagsy Browne. He was not the only man in the world — she’d very soon find others — but he was the most special. None of the others had ever indulged her so much or taken such risks on her behalf. Yet he’d now vanished and she might never see him again. It was depressing.
After a series of stops along the way, the train eventually reached its final destination and groaned to a halt in Plymouth station. Telling herself that she had to make the best of her new situation, she gathered up her belongings and stepped on to the station with a sense of purpose. Then she saw police uniforms converging on her.
Questioning Bagsy Browne was like trying to hold a bar of wet soap in hands already covered in oil. He was slippery and adroit. Colbeck had never met anyone so skilled in the art of evasion and barefaced dishonesty. Leeming had the urge to knock some truth out of Browne and regretted that raw violence was not a permissible means of interrogation. Steel had crossed swords with the man on many previous occasions and had never got the better of him. Every time he asked a question, it was hit back hard at him like a cricket ball that was impossible to catch. All that he got for his trouble were burning palms and mounting frustration. In the end, he let Colbeck do all the talking and simply watched from the boundary.
‘Let’s turn to the murder of Joel Heygate,’ said Colbeck.
Browne sniggered. ‘I was in favour of it.’
‘Did it give you any satisfaction?’
‘I enjoyed reading the details of it.’
‘Yet you told us earlier that you never read the newspapers.’
‘I made an exception for Heygate. I loathed the man.’
‘Why is that?’
‘We had a disagreement at the station.’
‘You were roaring drunk, from what I’ve heard.’
‘A man is entitled to his pleasures, Inspector. What are yours?’
‘My chief pleasure,’ said Colbeck, easily, ‘is catching malefactors and making them pay the full price for their crimes. In the case of murder that invariably means a walk to the gallows.’ He stared deep into Browne’s eyes. ‘Do you fear that walk?’
‘No,’ replied Browne, cheekily. ‘Why should I?’
‘It’s a walk you’re destined to make,’ said Leeming.
‘You can’t hang me for bashing a peeler on the head. Nor for drawing a little blood from a detective’s arm. I know the law, Sergeant. Rescuing a friend from a police cell is naughty but it won’t put my head in a noose.’
‘You killed the stationmaster.’
Browne was offended. ‘Who told you that?’
‘All the evidence picks out you as the culprit,’ said Colbeck, ‘and your subsequent crimes identify you as a dangerous and aggressive man.’
‘I didn’t kill Heygate!’ shouted Browne, squirming on the chair. ‘I’d like to have done, I’ll admit that. There’s lots of other people I’d like to have wiped off the face of this earth as well. But wanting to do something and doing it are two separate things. In the case of Heygate, someone got there before me.’
‘What were you doing on the night of November 4th?’
‘Mind your own bleeding business!’
‘We believe that you met and killed Joel Heygate.’
‘That’s a lie!’ howled Browne.
‘Then tell us what you were doing at that time.’
‘It’s private.’
‘You don’t have privacy any more,’ interjected Steel.
‘Look, I never went near Heygate, I swear it.’
‘You vowed to get even with him some day.’
‘And I would’ve done, if I’d had the chance. I detested him.’
‘In other words,’ said Colbeck, ‘you admit you’re capable of murder.’
‘Every man is capable of murder, Inspector, and most women. Steal a baby off a parent and you’ll see what I mean.’
‘Take your mind back to November 4th.’
‘Why? That’s history now. It’s so much piss down the sewer.’
‘You laid in wait to ambush the stationmaster.’
‘No!’ exclaimed Browne.
‘You battered him to death with a blunt instrument, then — with or without the aid of an accomplice — you carried his body to the cathedral precinct and concealed it beneath the bonfire.’ Browne bellowed a protest, fiercely indignant at the charges levelled against him. ‘Why don’t you break the habit of a wasted lifetime and tell the truth for once? You killed Joel Heygate and you can’t deny it.’
Colbeck’s accusation had Browne seething with denial and ready to express it in the most forceful way. Sticking his head down, he suddenly dived off his chair and tried to smash the inspector’s nose. Because of his sharp reflexes, Colbeck moved his head out of the way just in time but he was knocked from his chair and fell to the ground. Leeming, meanwhile, grappled with the prisoner and subdued him with some heavy punches to the body and head. Dumping him back in his chair, he stood behind Browne and held him firmly by the shoulders. Resuming his own chair, Colbeck spoke with equanimity.
‘That’s one more charge to add to the list, Mr Browne,’ he said, ‘but it pales beside the main one.’ He narrowed his lids. ‘Why did you kill Mr Heygate?’
‘I didn’t.’
‘We don’t believe you.’
‘Then here’s something you can believe.’
With a surge of anger, Browne tried to spit in his face but Colbeck dodged the phlegm by shifting his head smartly to the side. The inspector remained cool.
‘Let’s start all over again, shall we?’ he suggested.
It had been a day of mixed emotions for Dorcas Hope. Pounced on by Woodford, she’d felt a sensation of naked fear that was alleviated by Colbeck’s intervention. Leeming had soothed her, then she’d experienced alarm and excitement when, with her nose pressed to the window of the refreshment room, she’d seen the detectives confront an armed man on the platform and send him haring off along the railway track. On hearing that Joel Heygate’s killer had been caught, she was overcome with joy and relief at the turn of events. Every time Woodford popped his head into the room, however, Dorcas felt a lurching unease, but he never actually spoke to her or repeated his earlier threat. He merely regarded her with malevolence.
What helped her to withstand the new stationmaster’s mute hostility was the reassuring friendship of Timothy Vesey. He was kind and supportive and she found his slight stutter endearing. It only seemed to affect two letters of the alphabet.
‘You’ve worked very well t-t-t-today, Miss Hope.’
‘Thank you, Mr Vesey.’
‘I daresay you’re still worried about Mrs R-R-R-Rossiter.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I think about her a lot.’
‘I can never be as efficient as her in this r-r-r-refreshment r-r-r-room. You’ll have t-t-t-to make allowances for me.’
‘There’s no need for me to do that. You’re so experienced.’
‘I hoped I’d r-r-r-retired from this job.’
‘It was very good of you to take over from Mrs Rossiter.’
‘How is she?’ he asked. ‘Have you heard any news?’
‘No, Mr Vesey, I haven’t.’
‘I had a friend who went into the asylum. It was years before they let him out.’
‘What was wrong with him?’
‘He kept seeing strange visions all the t-t-t-time.’
‘That’s not what Mrs Rossiter does,’ said Dorcas. ‘Father says that she was shocked by Mr Heygate’s death and it turned her brain. He thinks she’s in the right place now. They’ll know how to look after her.’
‘I spent a long time with Agnes Rossiter,’ said Canon Smalley. ‘It’s a sad case.’
‘They’re all sad cases in here,’ remarked Swift. ‘But it’s no part of my job to feel sorry for them. I leave that to you.’
‘Christian love can sometimes do what medicine is unable to do.’
‘Between us, we can offer both, Canon Smalley.’
‘Mrs Rossiter talked endlessly about the stationmaster.’
‘I know. I heard the tale from her myself. What she fails to understand is that the stationmaster would never have talked in the same way about her. In his view, she was merely someone with whom he worked. It’s only in the febrile recesses of her mind that she decided she is effectively his widow.’
Dr Morton Swift enjoyed his occasional meetings with Canon Smalley. While he retained complete control over the treatment of those confined in the asylum, Swift was always ready to listen to the man who had dedicated his life to providing pastoral care. They’d both had successes in the past. Thanks to him, some of Swift’s patients had been nursed back to health to a point where it was safe to release them. Canon Smalley’s triumphs could not be measured in terms of numbers who left the asylum. His achievements were related to the relief of anguish and the building of trust. Of the canon’s many skills, none was valued more highly by Swift than his ability to quell the fire inside violent patients. It was a skill that was in constant demand.
‘Another new case is being admitted today,’ said Swift, opening a file on his desk. ‘The young lady’s name is Esther Leete.’
‘I’ll make a point of talking to her before the day is out.’
‘That’s not possible, I’m afraid. Miss Leete is deaf and dumb. She’s been subject to fits of violence, so has come into our hands. Treat her with care.’
‘I’ll do so, Dr Swift.’
‘Thank you.’
‘First, however, I promised to call on Mrs Rossiter again.’
‘Don’t mention Mr Heygate’s funeral,’ advised Swift. ‘It’s best that she knows nothing of what’s happening in the outside world.’
Agnes Rossiter had no idea where she was or what she was doing there. She missed her sister, her friends and her job. Most of all, she missed the freedom to do what she wanted. She needed to mourn the man she adored, to attend his funeral and to place flowers on his grave. Yet she couldn’t even leave her room until it was unlocked. She couldn’t eat, drink, wash or relieve herself until she was told. Her own clothing had been taken from her and she had been put into a coarse shift and a rough woollen dressing gown. They’d stolen her identity and turned her into something she neither liked nor recognised as herself. It was demeaning. But there was one thing they could never take from her and that was the memory of Joel Heygate. As long as she held on to that, she had a bulwark against the multiple indignities of the asylum. He was her comfort and salvation. She would tell that to Canon Smalley.
Although he’d joked about putting them in adjoining cells, Colbeck made sure that Bagsy Browne and Adeline Goss never even saw each other. While the former was locked up, the latter was interviewed by Colbeck and Steel. There was no need for handcuffs and Leeming was not required to stand in front of the door. He’d been sent by the inspector on another errand. Unaware that Browne was in custody, Adeline was careful to say nothing to incriminate him.
‘We believe that you were harbouring a man named Bernard Browne,’ said Colbeck. ‘How long did he stay with you in Rockfield Place?’
‘He didn’t stay with me,’ she replied.
‘Then why did he feel the need to rescue you from a police cell?’
‘It’s the sort of thing Bagsy would do for an old friend.’
‘So, until then, you’d spent no time together?’
‘That’s right.’
‘What about the last couple of days? Where did you spend those?’
‘I was on my own.’
‘You’re lying, Adeline,’ said Steel, ‘as you always do when we haul you in here. You haven’t got an honest bone in your body. Don’t take us for fools. Even Bagsy wouldn’t go to all the trouble of getting you out of here, only to abandon you to your own devices.’
‘Yet that’s what he did.’
‘We don’t believe you.’
‘After you left here, then,’ resumed Colbeck, ‘you and Browne parted company. Have you seen him since?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I’ve seen neither hide nor hair of him.’
‘Then how to do you explain the fact that he saw you off on the train this morning? It’s how we caught you, Miss Goss. We learnt that Browne bought you a single ticket to Plymouth. I sent a telegraph there.’
‘Well?’ pressed Steel as she fell silent. ‘Are you going to deny it? Or are you going to claim that it was Bagsy’s twin brother?’
She looked anxious. ‘Where is he?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘You’re trying to trick me,’ she said with an accusatory glare.
‘We’re trying to discover to what extent you were his accomplice,’ said Colbeck, taking over once again. ‘As things stand, it looks as if you’ve been hand in glove with him from the time he first came to Exeter. That may be a very unfair judgement on you. For your sake, Miss Goss, I sincerely hope that it is. Cast your mind back, if you will, to the night of November 4th. Did you spend it with Browne?’
‘No!’ she affirmed.
‘Did you see him at all that day?’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘You seem very sure of that.’
‘I know who I sleep with, Inspector.’
‘In other words,’ he said, ‘you can’t provide him with an alibi.’
She grinned slyly. ‘You’re trying to trick me again, aren’t you?’
‘It was a simple question,’ said Colbeck. ‘All we wish to know is whether or not you spent the night before Guy Fawkes Day with your old friend, Browne.’
‘I’ve told you,’ she snapped, ‘I bleeding well didn’t.’
‘Do you have any idea where he was that night?’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘Would you swear to that in court?’ asked Steel.
‘I’ll yell it from the bleeding rooftops, if you like.’
‘That won’t be necessary, Adeline.’
‘We believe you,’ said Colbeck. ‘It’s the only thing you’ve said so far that we do believe, mind you, and it may save your neck.’
Adeline was disturbed. ‘What do you mean?’
‘How long have you known Mr Browne?’
‘Tell me what you mean about my neck,’ she demanded.
‘Calm down, Miss Goss.’
‘You can’t make threats like that against me. I’m a whore, that’s all I am. My mother was a whore and I was brought up in the trade. I’m good at it, though I say so myself. Arrest me for that, if you like,’ she said, spiritedly, ‘but don’t start accusing me of anything else.’ She stood up. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Sit down, Adeline,’ said Steel.
‘I won’t be blamed for something I didn’t do.’
‘Sit down or you’ll have to be restrained.’
After a silent battle of wills, she eventually gave in and resumed her seat.
‘Let me tell you why we have such an interest in you,’ said Colbeck, ‘and I advise you to listen carefully. Bernard Browne is in custody, charged with a number of offences, some related to you. He has also been charged with the murder of Joel Heygate and we wish to know if you were party to it.’
Adeline paled. ‘No, I wasn’t,’ she said, genuinely scared for the first time. ‘I had nothing to do with it and neither did Bagsy.’
‘Then what was he doing at Mr Heygate’s funeral?’
‘I didn’t know he was there.’
‘The only reason he’d take such a risk is that he wanted to gloat over the burial of the man he’d battered to death.’
‘It couldn’t have been Bagsy,’ she argued. ‘It just couldn’t.’
‘He has no alibi for the night before Guy Fawkes Day.’
‘He wasn’t even in Exeter.’
‘Then why didn’t he say that?’
‘You’ve got the wrong man, Inspector. Bagsy is no saint, I admit, but there are some things he’d never do. Murder is one of them.’
‘He’s going to hang, Adeline,’ said Steel. ‘Why don’t you save your own skin and confess that you know he killed the stationmaster? You don’t want us to think that you were an accessory, do you?’
Adeline quailed. She was trapped.
Bagsy Browne paced up and down the tiny cell like a caged animal. When a policeman came to taunt him, he was driven back by a torrent of bad language. Browne’s predicament was frightening. He’d been arrested for a whole host of crimes, some of which carried long prison sentences. But it was the charge of murder that rattled him. There was no prison sentence for that — only an appointment with the hangman. What really rankled was the fact that Adeline might be inveigled into giving evidence against him. If she talked about his burning hatred for Joel Heygate and his determination to attend the funeral, she would be inadvertently helping to condemn him. He needed to school her, to rehearse all the answers she was to give to the police. But he had no chance to get anywhere near her. They would be working on Adeline in another part of the building. In any other circumstances, Browne would be fearless. When a meeting with the public executioner was a likely outcome, however, he discovered that he was only human, after all.
On his second trip to Dawlish, Leeming was struck afresh by its enchantment. Even on a dull autumn afternoon, its beach, its brook and its encircling hills were things of wonder. Far less appealing were the people on whom he’d come to call. Michael and Lavinia Heygate were even less welcoming than on his first visit but they invited him in and offered him refreshment. Ensconced in front of their fire, he drank a cup of tea and nibbled at a biscuit as he listened to Heygate’s description of the funeral.
‘It was an ordeal,’ said Heygate. ‘Frankly, I don’t know how I got through it. I kept remembering all the good times that Joel and I had shared — before we came to a parting of the ways.’
‘That’s what I wanted to ask about, sir,’ said Leeming. ‘If you and your brother didn’t speak to each other any more, why did you call at his house on the evening before Guy Fawkes Day?’
‘We went as a courtesy.’
‘Yet you told me that he was testy with you.’
‘Michael made the effort to bury their differences,’ said Lavinia, ‘but Joel was as frosty as ever.’
Heygate nodded. ‘We were both wounded by his attitude.’
They were still dressed in black but they were no longer using sepulchral voices and pretending that they were racked by grief. Leeming was aware of a muted note of victory and a deep satisfaction.
‘Tell me about the evening of November 4th,’ he invited.
‘We’ve already discussed it with you and with Superintendent Tallis,’ said Heygate. ‘There’s nothing we can add.’
‘Oh, I think there is, sir. Remind me where you stayed that night. It was with friends, I gather.’
‘That’s right.’
‘You didn’t stay at an inn, by any chance?’
‘Why pay for an inn when you can enjoy the hospitality of friends?’
‘We can’t afford to stay at an inn,’ added Lavinia. ‘At least, we couldn’t then. Things will be different in the future.’
‘Is that what you told Superintendent Tallis?’
‘Yes,’ replied Heygate. ‘We don’t understand why he sent you back here.’
‘It wasn’t him who sent me, sir. He’s not even in Exeter. I’m sure you’ll be distressed to hear that he’s back in London, nursing a wound inflicted by one of your former customers — this man named Bagsy Browne.’ They were both startled. ‘Don’t worry. We have the villain in custody. Inspector Colbeck and I arrested him at the railway station this morning. Apart from his many other crimes, he’ll be charged with the murder of your brother. Since we feel that he may have an accomplice,’ he went on, regarding each of them in turn, ‘we’ll be looking closely at anyone who’s been in touch with him recently.’
‘Well, you can exclude us,’ said Heygate, nervously. ‘It’s a long time since we’ve seen Bagsy. My wife will tell you.’
‘Yes, yes,’ she said. ‘It was a very long time ago.’
Leeming smiled. ‘We’ll have to ask him exactly when it was.’
‘Don’t accept the word of a rogue like that,’ warned Heygate.
‘You were ready to accept the money of a rogue, sir. You obviously made no distinction between good and bad customers.’
‘Business was slack, Sergeant. We couldn’t turn anyone away.’
‘I see.’ Leeming swallowed the last of the biscuit and washed it down with some tea. ‘What did you think of Superintendent Tallis?’
‘We were touched that the man in charge of the investigation took the trouble to keep us informed of its progress. It was very considerate of him.’
‘Yes, he can be considerate. He’s also very observant. He takes nothing on trust, you see. When you told him you’d stayed with friends in Exeter that night, he asked Superintendent Steel to deploy his men as detectives. And they made an interesting discovery that rather contradicts what you claimed. It seems,’ said Leeming, putting his cup on a side table, ‘that a Mr and Mrs Michael Heygate spent the night in question at the Crown Inn.’ He smiled benignly at them. ‘What do you both say to that?’
They were speechless, each looking desperately to the other for help.
At the end of her working day, Dorcas tried to slip away without being seen by Woodford but he was waiting to waylay her. Though he didn’t say anything, his eyes were full of menace. She read the message that they held for her. While he was in the city, Colbeck might be able to protect her but the inspector would leave before long. She would then be at the mercy of the new stationmaster and could expect no quarter.
Cowed into silence, she trotted all the way home and arrived there with her heart beating like a drum. The first thing that greeted her was the chirping of the canary and she brightened immediately. Dorcas went into the parlour and saw her mother, struggling to put a hand into the cage so that she could clean it. Peter watched from the comfort of his perch and kept up a cheerful commentary.
‘No, no, Mother,’ said Dorcas. ‘Leave that to me. You shouldn’t try to do that when you must be in pain.’
‘It has given me a few twinges,’ admitted Maud, withdrawing her hand and lowering herself gently into her chair. ‘Here — take this cloth, Dorcas.’
‘Wait a moment.’
Dorcas first removed her hat and coat. After hanging them up, she took the cloth from her mother and examined the cage. The base was covered in seeds and droppings. Peter cocked his head to one side and peered quizzically at her.
‘There’s a way of doing this properly,’ she said, going to the cage. ‘Now that it’s safe to let Peter out, he can fly around the room.’
The canary seemed to hear her and seized his chance of freedom, hopping on to the open door then flying out into the room and up to the picture rail. From that eminence, he looked down and regaled them with full-throated song. Dorcas lifted the cage up at a slight angle.
‘Mr Heygate had this specially made,’ she explained. ‘He wanted it very large and with this thick base in it.’
Maud was worried. ‘What are you trying to do?’
‘He told me once that the whole base is hinged so that it opens out. That way, you can get inside the cage to give it a good clean.’
‘Wait for your father. It’s far too heavy for you to handle.’
‘I can manage, I promise you.’
Tilting it at a sharper angle, Dorcas felt for the clips that held the base to the back edge of the cage. She pulled hard and the base flapped down like a trapdoor, spilling the items hidden away beneath it. Dorcas and Maud looked at the things which had just tumbled on to the table. They were absolutely mesmerised.