‘That means you haven’t been here for over five years,’ Leeming calculated. ‘A lot can happen in that time, sir.’
‘The colonel and I kept up a regular correspondence.’
‘But I doubt if he’d have said much about his wife in his letters. He must have known that you hold peculiar views about marriage.’
‘My views are not peculiar,’ retorted Tallis, reddening. ‘They are based on observation. Marriage, in most cases, serves to emasculate a man and divert him from his true purpose in life. That was not the fate of Colonel Tarleton. His was a rare example of how marriage can help a husband to explore his true potential.’
‘My wife has done the same for me, sir.’
‘That’s a moot point, Leeming. What I see in you is a man whose attention is occasionally diverted by the demands of his family. Look to the inspector. Bachelors like Colbeck are far more effective upholders of the law. Now, will one of you please tell me exactly what this railway policeman is claiming, based on the dubious evidence of his daughter?’
‘In essence,’ said Colbeck, ‘his theory is this. Mrs Tarleton was alienated from her husband because she believed that he’d developed an interest in another woman. After a series of rows, she fled the house and – rather than admit the embarrassing truth – the colonel gave out that she had gone missing.’
‘That is preposterous!’ exploded Tallis.
‘It’s only a theory, sir.’
‘It’s a pack of damnable lies.’
‘The sergeant’s daughter did work there,’ Leeming reminded him. ‘And we do know that the colonel and his wife had separate bedrooms.’
‘That’s none of your business!’ howled Tallis.
Leeming cowered. ‘No, no, I agree, sir.’
‘Colonel Tarleton would no more look at another woman than he’d fly to the moon on the back of a brown cow. He observed his marriage vows to the letter. He’d never bestow his affections on another woman. To start with, he’d never let her anywhere near him.’
‘He did in this instance,’ said Leeming. ‘She worked there.’
Tallis was open-mouthed in astonishment. ‘Mrs Withers?’
‘They spent all their time under the same roof, sir.’
‘Good God, man! Have you taken leave of your senses? Mrs Withers is a servant. Colonel Tarleton would never dream of even looking at her in the way you imply. She’s beneath him. I’ll hear no more of this nonsense,’ he went on, getting to his feet and picking up his glass. ‘I’m going to bed.’
‘Aren’t you hungry, sir?’ asked Colbeck.
‘I couldn’t touch a thing – especially after listening to the arrant nonsense that you’ve just told me. Colonel Tarleton loved his wife dearly. I’ll trouble you to remember that from now on.’
After taking a long sip of his brandy, he stalked off. Colbeck was relieved that there were so few people there to witness Tallis’s volcanic loss of temper and he regretted passing on Hepworth’s theory about the missing wife. Something else worried him.
‘This case is arousing too many emotions in him,’ he observed. ‘I think his personal involvement is a handicap to his judgement. He has an image of the perfect marriage that existed when he was last here a number of years ago. Since then, a great deal has happened. To begin with, the size of the domestic staff at the house has been reduced and the garden is no longer maintained to such a high standard. Something very serious must have happened yet there seems to have been no hint of it in the letters sent from here to the superintendent.’
‘What do you think we should do?’
‘Persuade him to leave the investigation to us.’
‘It will not be easy.’
‘I realise that, Victor.’
‘I wouldn’t fancy going anywhere near him when he’s in this state. What about you, Inspector? Why don’t you go up to his room this minute to put the idea to him?’
‘I’m not that brave,’ said Colbeck with a grin, ‘or that foolhardy.’
‘Go on,’ teased Leeming. ‘You can mention your engagement while you’re up there. He’s in the ideal mood to talk about marriage.’
Happy by nature, Madeleine Andrews now took even more pleasure out of each day. The moment she woke up, she rolled over in bed to look at the engagement ring that stood in its open box on the bedside table. It symbolised her delight. She’d met Robert Colbeck under difficult circumstances when her father had been badly injured during the robbery of a train he was driving. What had begun as a chance meeting had slowly matured into a friendship before developing into something far deeper. Yet she’d never really believed that it would lead to holy matrimony. Given the difference in their social positions, she’d never dared to think that she’d be an acceptable wife for him.
Colbeck, however, had seen her true qualities. In his view, Madeleine was much more than merely the daughter of a widowed engine driver. She was a beautiful, intelligent, resourceful young woman who’d given crucial help during some of his investigations. Apart from reading voraciously the books she’d borrowed from his extensive library, Madeleine had also developed her artistic talents to the point where she could sell her work. Colbeck’s encouragement had been decisive and, unlike most people, he didn’t think that her subject matter was unfeminine. Because she celebrated railways to such startling effect in her paintings, he’d found one more reason to love her. Over breakfast that morning, her father was curious.
‘When will you be seeing him again, Maddy?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know,’ she replied.
‘I called on your mother regular before we were married. It’s what men are supposed to do when they’re betrothed.’
‘Robert is a very busy man. According to the note he sent me yesterday, he had to catch a train to Yorkshire.’
‘Yorkshire!’ said Caleb Andrews with disgust. ‘That means he’ll have travelled on the Great Northern Railway. I wouldn’t use one of their trains if you paid me.’
‘It has a good reputation.’
‘The only company worth its salt is the one I work for.’
‘Mr Brunel would have something to say about that.’
‘You can forget him, Maddy. The Great Western Railway is a complete mess. Brunel can’t even use a proper gauge on his track. As for the GNR, it’s in an even worse state.’
Having worked for the London and North Western Railway since it came into existence, Andrews treated its competitors with routine contempt and he was always annoyed when Colbeck’s work took him on lines operated by its rivals. Madeleine continued eating her breakfast in amused silence. She knew better than to argue with her father because it would only prolong his attack on other railway companies. Her task was to feed him well at their little house in Camden before sending him off to Euston on the early shift.
Short, wiry and with a wispy beard, Andrews was a man of truculent disposition. Workmates feared his sharp tongue and took care not to provoke him. His daughter, however, had learnt how to cope with his irascibility and had been a tower of strength to him since the death of his beloved wife. Andrews was very conscious of what she’d done for him over the years.
‘I’ll miss you, Maddy,’ he said, munching some bread.
‘I haven’t gone yet, Father,’ she pointed out, ‘and it may be some time before I do so. Robert warned me about that.’
‘Sooner or later, you’ll be off. I won’t have to worry about you.’
She smiled. ‘I thought I was the one worrying about you.’
‘I can look after myself. And now that you’re settled, I can start thinking about retirement.’
‘You’ll never retire. The railway is in your blood.’
‘It’s in my lungs as well,’ he said, coughing and beating his chest by way of testimony. ‘That’s what you get for breathing in smoke all day long. I’m not as young as I was, Maddy. I can’t go on for ever.’
‘You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you retire.’
‘I’ll find someone I can beat at draughts.’ They shared a laugh. Ever since he’d taught her the game, she’d been able to win against him nine times out of ten. ‘Who knows?’ he added, mischievously. ‘I might even consider walking down the aisle myself.’