Billy hesitated. He could read nothing from the inspector's expression. Yet he knew he had been in the same battle. It was common knowledge at the Yard.
One of the sergeants had told him Madden's battalion had been in action on the first day. Out of seven hundred men, the sergeant said, fewer than eighty had survived to answer their names at the evening roll call. Billy couldn't conceive of such an event, of so many men being cut down in such a short space of time, and he wanted to ask the inspector about it. But when he looked at Madden's face as he stared out of the window he decided it might be better not to.
Derry's office at Maidstone Central Police Station overlooked a corner of the market square. A profusion of pink geraniums overflowed two terracotta pots on the ledge outside his window and the chief inspector was busy watering them when Madden and Styles were shown in. He parked the can on the ledge outside and came over to shake their hands.
'How's Mr Sinclair? Bearing up? Be sure to give him my regards when you see him.' He had a bony, intelligent face and a swift glance, which showed mild surprise at the youthful appearance of Styles.
'Mr Sinclair wanted to come himself, sir. But the assistant commissioner called a meeting this morning.'
'Here's the file,' Derry said. He handed Madden a buff folder. 'But let me give you the gist of it so you'll know why I rang the Yard.'
He directed his visitors to a pair of chairs and then seated himself behind his desk.
'It happened in the first week of April when I chanced to be on leave. I was only away for a fortnight, but by the time I got back it was all over. The derectives handling it felt they had a cast-iron case.
They were even more sure when the fellow topped himself.'
'He was in custody, was he?' Madden inquired.
'They were holding him in the cells downstairs. He tore his shirt into strips and managed to hang himself from the bars.' Derry shook his head regretfully. 'I looked over the file, of course, but I have to say I didn't feel any doubts at the time. It seemed solid.
Based on what I read, I reckon he would have swung.'
Madden balanced the folder on his knee. 'But you changed your mind when you saw our item in the Gazette?'
'I wouldn't go that far. Let's say I'm in two minds right now. I just have a nasty feeling we might have picked up the wrong man.'
'Even though he hanged himself?' Madden was surprised.
Derry shrugged. 'Caddo — that was his name — always admitted stealing the goods he was caught with. Perhaps he thought he couldn't escape conviction on the murder charge either, though he did maintain the woman was dead when he entered the house, and he never changed his story. Still, whatever happened he was going to spend a spell in prison.'
'I see he was a gypsy.' Madden had opened the file.
'A full-blooded Romany. They do say you can't lock them up for any length of time. They won't abide it.'
Derry reached behind him and brought in the watering-can from the ledge outside. 'Caddo lost his wife a couple of years back. He was alone. A man can come to the end of himself, don't you think?'
Madden didn't look up from the file.
'He owned a horse and caravan.' Derry brushed off his hands. 'He used to visit the district regularly — it's near a village called Bentham, about ten miles east of here. He had an arrangement with a local farmer, a tenant of the Bentham Court estate, and used to camp on his land for a few weeks in return for mending his pots and pans and doing other odd jobs.'
'Any past history with the police?' Madden was paging through the folder.
'Nothing serious. There was an allegation of sheep stealing a few years ago, but nothing came of it. A case of grab the nearest gypsy, if you ask me. The trouble started when the man he dealt with left the region and a new tenant took over the farm. Chap called Reynolds. He didn't care for gypsies, it seems, and he told Caddo when he turned up at the end of March that he'd give him a week to find a new site and then he wanted him off his land. They had a blazing row in front of witnesses. Caddo was heard to make threats. Next thing, Reynolds went to the bobby at Bentham and accused Caddo of having poisoned his dogs.'
Madden looked up sharply.
'What?' Derry raised a ginger eyebrow.
'That was something we left out of the Gazette item, sir. The dog at Melling Lodge was poisoned a few weeks earlier. Do you remember what was used on Reynolds's animals?'
Derry nodded. 'Strychnine,' he said. 'How about the other?'
'The same.' Madden weighed the file in his hand.
The two men looked at each other. Derry clicked his tongue in chagrin.
'Damn it!' he said. He looked away.
'Did they search his caravan?' Madden wondered.
'The bobby did. Nothing turned up. Of course, he could have got rid of the stuff. Anyway, the constable spoke to him sharpish. Told him Reynolds wanted him off his land within twenty-four hours. It was a Saturday. The murder happened the same evening.'
'Caddo admitted going over there, to Reynolds's farm.' Madden was back in the file. 'He said he didn't have anything special in mind.'
'That was his first statement.' Derry pointed at the folder. 'He made another later and he was more forthcoming. Admitted he meant to do Reynolds harm. Said he thought of setting fire to his barn.'
'That would have been what time?'
'After six, Caddo said. It was starting to get dark.
His story — his second version — was that he approached the house and saw lights on and the back door standing open. He waited a few minutes and then went closer. He didn't see anyone about. He'd lost his nerve about firing the barn — so he said — but he thought he might slip inside and help himself to whatever he could find. When he got to the door he noticed the lock had been smashed, but he couldn't hear anything so he went inside. He took a bag from the kitchen and started putting things in it — a clock from the mantelpiece, some knives and forks from a canteen of cutlery. He found his way to Reynolds's study, opened his desk and pocketed twenty quid and a gold watch.'
'Where was Reynolds all this time?'
'Less than a mile away, looking for some sheep.
With his dogs dead he was having a hell of a time running his flock and a number of them had strayed.
He had a neighbour with him, fellow called Tompkins, who'd come over to lend a hand. Tompkins saw Mrs Reynolds before they went off, so that put the husband in the clear. Both men were out of sight of the house for an hour — that could well have been a factor.'
'Might have saved their lives,' Madden remarked.
Derry cocked his head. 'You think it was your man?'
'It could be, sir.' Madden scowled in frustration. 'So what did Caddo do then?'
'He went upstairs, just to take a look, he said, to see if there was anything worth lifting. His story is he found Mrs Reynolds's body in the bedroom and got out of the house as fast as he could and ran all the way back to his camp-site. They picked him up in his caravan on the Ashford road next morning.'
Madden was wondering. 'Since you didn't know about the poisoned dog, what made you think there might be a connection with Melling Lodge?'
'The murder itself,' Derry replied. 'The woman having her throat cut that way and her body thrown across the bed. And… well, this is a strange thing to say, you'll think… but the fact that she wasn't raped.
Just like your Mrs Fletcher.'
'That struck you as strange?'
Derry nodded. 'He dragged her out of her bath and threw her on the bed. Why? She was naked, a good looking woman, too. I mean, why didn't he rape her?'