Ginny relaxed. ‘When will ’e be ’anged?’
‘Oh, there’s a long way to go before any execution.’
‘Our Dad took me to Northallerton once to see a man being ’anged there. There were a big crowd, like. We all cheered.’
‘Your father should have known better,’ said Leeming. ‘It’s not suitable entertainment for a girl of your age. In fact, it shouldn’t be entertainment at all. Did your brother go as well?’
‘Our Sam stayed ’ere.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’
‘Right,’ said Colbeck, ‘we won’t hold you up, Ginny. Just pass on the message, please, and say nothing about those letters. Now that the colonel is dead, they’re meaningless.’
She gave a lopsided grin and nodded her head in agreement.
In order to get everything ready in the event of guests returning to the house from church, Mrs Withers and Lottie had got up an hour earlier than usual. They had toiled away before and after the service and were unable to rest until the four visitors had finally departed. Eve and Lawrence Doel had eaten the refreshments in lieu of luncheon, leaving Adam Tarleton to have a full meal on his own in the dining room. While his sister and her husband stayed in the drawing room, he went off to the library to read for an hour. The servants were able to contemplate a short period when they, too, could rest. Lottie chose to sit on a chair and put her aching feet up on a stool. Mrs Withers preferred to withdraw to her room.
Once inside, she locked the door and crossed to the bed. Lifting up the mattress, she felt under it for something she’d hidden there earlier. It was the first chance she’d had to scrutinise it. She sat in the chair by the window so that she caught the best of the light then she undid the pink ribbon around the little bundle. Unfolding the first letter, she began to read it. The housekeeper did not get far. Within the first paragraph there were enough surprises to make her heart beat at a furious rate and to make her whole body burn with embarrassment. Unable to read on, she clutched the letter to her chest and began to sob. Mrs Withers wished that she’d never seen such disturbing words. They pressed down on her brain like so many hot bricks, making her feel as if her head was about to burst into flames. After all the years of devoted service she’d given, she now felt utterly betrayed. It was unnerving. The concept of loyalty suddenly took on a whole new meaning for her.
For their meeting with Hepworth, the detectives withdrew to a private room at the rear of the Black Bull. Colbeck placed pen, ink and paper on the table. Leeming was puzzled.
‘What are they for, Inspector?’
‘I want to give Hepworth a fright.’
‘How will you do that?’
‘I’ll ask him to write something for us so that we can compare it with the letters received by the colonel.’
‘But we don’t have any letters.’
‘ You know that,’ said Colbeck, ‘but the sergeant doesn’t.’
Leeming was surprised. ‘Are you going to lie to him?’
‘I’m going to use a little fiction to establish some facts. Without any of those letters he wrote, we could never secure a conviction in court. What we can do, however, is to unsettle him so much that he’ll lower his defence when we ask about the murder.’
‘Mr Tallis might not approve of your methods,’ said Leeming.
‘Mr Tallis wants results,’ said Colbeck, blithely. ‘With a man like Hepworth, this may be the only way to achieve them.’
They didn’t have to wait long. Only half an hour after their visit to his cottage, the railway policeman entered the pub with his usual swagger. When the landlord pointed to the other room, Hepworth banged on the door before pushing it open.
‘Good afternoon, gentlemen,’ he said, closing the door behind him. ‘You sent for me, I hear.’
‘Come and sit down, Sergeant,’ invited Colbeck.
‘Thank you, sir.’
He lowered himself into the chair opposite them, grinning broadly like a new confederate admitted to a conspiracy. Rubbing his hands, he waited to be let in on the secret.
‘Your daughter can obviously deliver a message,’ said Leeming.
‘Ginny is a clever girl.’
‘What about your lad?’
‘She had most of the brains. Sam had what little was left.’
‘We’ve made an arrest,’ Colbeck told him.
Hepworth cocked an ear. ‘Was it Michael Bruntcliffe?’
‘Yes, it was.’
‘I thought it would be. Where did you find him?’
‘He was staying in a cottage the other side of Bedale. He made a complete confession. He’s locked up in Northallerton now.’
‘So the murder is solved now, is it, Inspector?’
‘Oh, no, we’re still hunting the killer.’
‘But you’ve just arrested Bruntcliffe,’ said Hepworth, confused.
‘That was on two lesser charges,’ said Colbeck. ‘In the course of last night, he slipped into the churchyard and, with the assistance of his horse, he toppled that large stone cross paid for by the colonel. Luckily, we got there early enough this morning to put it back into place with the help of a farmer.’
‘It was like a ton weight,’ recalled Leeming.
‘Most of the congregation were unaware of what had happened. I had a quiet word with the curate afterwards and he promised to get a mason to secure the cross at its base. Incidentally,’ said Colbeck, ‘we met your son in the churchyard. He was playing with toy soldiers.’
‘Except that they were actually cartridges,’ said Leeming with a meaningful glance at Hepworth. ‘Sam told us he collects them.’
‘That’s right,’ admitted Hepworth, warily. ‘It keeps him occupied. He wants to join the army one day but I doubt if they’d take him.’ When he leant forward, his beard touched the table. ‘Is that all you charged Bruntcliffe with?’
‘Causing damage to church property is a serious offence,’ said Colbeck. ‘He’s bought himself a ticket straight back to prison. His sentence will be lengthened when he pleads guilty to a second offence.’
‘What’s that, Inspector?’
‘Sending anonymous letters to the colonel, full of libellous material and designed to cause him distress. In short, helping to unbalance his mind and drive him to take his own life.’
‘I thought you’d already arrested someone for that.’
‘We have,’ said Colbeck, ‘but he wasn’t the only correspondent. There were a number of evil-minded people who got pleasure from kicking Colonel Tarleton when he was down, as it were. What’s your opinion of such individuals, Sergeant Hepworth?’
‘They’re despicable,’ insisted Leeming, ‘and they should be prosecuted with the full rigour of the law.’
‘I agree,’ said Hepworth, half-heartedly, drawing back in his seat. ‘It’s a spiteful thing to do.’
‘It’s spiteful and it’s cowardly,’ Colbeck went on. ‘If someone had an accusation to hurl at the colonel, they should have done so to his face. Well, that’s what you did when he dismissed your daughter.’
‘I did, Inspector. He deserved it. I didn’t beat about the bush. When I had that argument with him, I came straight to the point.’
‘And you did the same in your letters to him, didn’t you?’
Hepworth tensed. ‘What letters?’
‘The letters you never signed.’
‘It’s an arrant lie!’ yelled the other. ‘I didn’t send any letters.’
‘Then the girl must have been mistaken,’ said Colbeck, making it up as he went along. ‘Lottie Pearl sleeps in an attic room at the top of the house. She swears that she saw your daughter, Ginny, sneak up to the house at night and post a letter through the door.’
‘Lottie was seeing things.’
‘Then we’ll have to rely on the testimony of Mrs Withers. She knows that secret path from the village to the house. According to her, Ginny emerged from it one night with something in her hand.’
Hepworth snarled. ‘How could they see anything in the dark?’
‘That’s a fair point, Sergeant, so it would be wrong to accuse you on the basis of what they claim. Besides, it’s not necessary. We still have the letters in question. All we have to do,’ he went on, indicating the writing materials, ‘is to ask you to pen a few lines that we can compare with the handwriting on those particular letters.’ He turned to Leeming. ‘How many were there, Victor?’