‘That much I can believe — he never travels with baggage.’
‘Who are you calling “baggage”, you swivel-eyed bastard?’ she shrieked. ‘I was his best friend in the city. That’s why he came to me.’
‘Yet you denied that he went anywhere near Rockfield Place.’
‘I told you — I was angry with him.’
‘He’s going to be even angrier with you when he hears the paltry excuse you came up with in a bid to save him from the gallows. Is that the best you can do, Adeline?’ asked Steel. ‘We both know that you didn’t spend the night with Bagsy. We have incontrovertible proof of it. If you could’ve offered him an alibi, don’t you think he’d have seized it? But he didn’t, did he? He wouldn’t tell us where he was that night but it certainly wasn’t between your thighs. He was too busy killing Joel Heygate.’
Turning on his heel, he walked away and returned to his office.
Adeline smacked the bars in sheer frustration. Her plan had failed.
‘I’m sorry, Bagsy,’ she said. ‘I did try.’
Bagsy Browne had been given a jeering welcome at the prison. Since the staff had all heard about the beating he’d given to Wyatt, he knew that they’d soon assault him in return. Browne was a familiar visitor to the old Bridewell in Queen Street but he was now remanded to the new prison in North Road. Built four years earlier on the same plan as Pentonville, it had almost two hundred cells, each of them containing water, washing bowl, bed, table, stool and gas jet. Prisoners were kept in isolation and subjected to the silent system. There was none of the banter Browne had indulged in at the police station. He was forbidden to speak to the other inmates. Left alone in the tiny cell, he sat on the stool and brooded on his fate. His would be the first execution at the new prison. Warders had taken delight in telling him that they were already placing bets on whether or not he would cry for mercy when he was dragged to the gallows. He showed no fear but his mind was in turmoil.
When a warder came to unlock his cell, Browne thought that he was being taken out to provide some sport for the staff. He’d been beaten up in prison before and had won the grudging admiration of the warders because he took his punishment bravely and never complained. In fact, he escaped any violent treatment this time. He was shown into a featureless room then locked inside it. Seated behind the little table was Inspector Robert Colbeck.
Browne was pleased. ‘You got my message, then?’
‘Why don’t you sit down, Mr Browne?’
‘I never thought you’d come.’
‘In my experience,’ said Colbeck, ‘criminals often have an attack of honesty when they’re facing execution. They realise that their lies are utterly pointless.’ He indicated the chair opposite him. ‘Sit down. I daresay it’s a lot more comfortable than the stool in your cell.’
Browne sat down. ‘Thank you, Inspector,’ he said. ‘I asked for you because I knew that Superintendent Steel would never listen to me. All he’s interested in is the moment when the lever is pulled, the trapdoor opens and I start dancing in the air.’
‘You’re quite wrong, Mr Browne. Like me, the superintendent is interested in only one thing and that’s justice.’
‘Do you believe that I killed the stationmaster?’
‘I think that it’s more than possible.’
‘Does that mean you’re certain of it?’
‘No,’ said Colbeck, ‘I’m very far from certain and that’s why I want to explore the full ramifications of this crime. Don’t get your hopes up, however. I’m not at all convinced of your innocence either.’
‘That’s fair enough,’ said Browne. ‘I can see it from your point of view. You think I might be guilty because I’ve been unable to give you an alibi for the time when Heygate was murdered. There’s a reason for that.’
‘The obvious reason is that you were the killer.’
‘No, that’s not it at all, Inspector.’
‘Are you claiming that you do have an alibi?’ Browne nodded. ‘Then why ever didn’t you produce it earlier?’
‘I was protecting someone.’
‘You’re the one in need of protection, Mr Browne. If someone can account for your movements on the eve of Guy Fawkes Day, then he or she should come forward. Don’t they realise the danger you’re in?’
‘It’s not as simple as that,’ said Browne, running a tongue over dry lips.
‘It looks very simple to me.’
The prisoner fell silent and searched Colbeck’s face. He was trying to decide if he could entrust confidential information to him. For his part, Colbeck could sense the man’s embarrassment. Browne’s natural truculence had gone and been replaced by a mixture of discomfort and shame.
‘If I give you the name of a young woman,’ he asked, quietly, ‘can you speak to her in private and keep her out of this investigation?’
‘That depends on what she has to tell me, Mr Browne.’
‘I spent the whole of that day and night with her.’
‘Then why didn’t you say so earlier?’
Browne squirmed. ‘The situation is awkward,’ he said, looking down at the table. ‘I didn’t want Ad to know.’
‘Ah,’ said Colbeck, ‘I think I see what you’re driving at. When you were being harboured by Miss Goss, you betrayed her by sleeping with another woman. Now it all begins to make sense.’
‘You still don’t understand, Inspector.’
‘I understand that there may — just may — be someone in the city who can vouch for you and prove that you were nowhere near the place where Joel Heygate met his death. If such a person exists — and I’m bound to wonder if she’s simply a figment of your lively imagination — then she can come forward and save your life.’
Browne was intense. ‘Ad must never know about her.’
‘Come now,’ said Colbeck, speaking man to man, ‘let’s be frank, shall we? Miss Goss has made no secret of the profession she follows and you seem to accept quite happily the fact that there are many other gentlemen in her life while you’re absent. By the same token, she will surely know that you don’t behave like a Trappist monk during the long periods when you’re apart. In short, I don’t think she’ll be surprised at your interest in another woman.’
Browne raised his head. ‘Yes, she will — very surprised.’
‘Why do you think that?’
‘The young woman was her daughter.’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
When they arrived in Exeter, the first thing they did was to carry their bags into the refreshment room. The long journey had left them tired and hungry. Caleb Andrews and Madeleine sat at a table and ordered a pot of tea and some cakes. Dorcas Hope soon brought everything across on her tray.
‘Are you staying in Exeter long?’ she asked, unloading the items carefully on to the table.
‘We don’t know,’ said Andrews. ‘It all depends on my daughter’s fiance.’
‘He came here to lead a murder investigation,’ added Madeleine.
‘Oh, you must mean Inspector Colbeck,’ said Dorcas, brightly. ‘He’s such a handsome gentleman, isn’t he? We’ve seen a lot of the inspector here.’
‘Do you happen to know where he’s staying?’
‘Yes, he and the sergeant are at the Acland Tavern in Sidwell Street.’
‘Then that’s where we ought to go, Maddy,’ suggested Andrews.
‘There’s no need,’ said Dorcas. ‘I can save you the journey.’
‘How can you do that, miss?’
‘Inspector Colbeck will soon be here. I sent word to him that I’ve at last remembered, you see. And since I can’t leave here for several hours, the inspector will have to come to me.’
‘This is all very mystifying,’ said Madeleine.
‘It’s connected to the investigation.’
‘Go on.’
‘Well,’ said Dorcas, ‘it’s all to do with a diary that Mr Heygate — he’s the stationmaster who was murdered — left behind. They searched the house but couldn’t find it anywhere. Then Peter came to our rescue.’
‘Who is Peter?’
‘He’s Mr Heygate’s canary. I’m looking after him.’
‘You’re not making much sense, young lady,’ said Andrews.