‘How long did you live in Spondon?’
‘We moved when I was only a boy.’
‘But you were baptised in the local church, I take it.’
‘Yes, I was.’
‘And you know the geography of the village.’
‘I’ve probably forgotten most of it, Inspector. I haven’t been near Spondon for decades. My time is divided between making sure that my silk mills are operating at maximum efficiency and keeping the Midland Railway under surveillance.’
‘That’s a taxing demand on any man.’
‘I’ve learnt to bear responsibility lightly.’
‘Then you deserve congratulation, sir.’
‘It’s something that Vivian Quayle was unable to do,’ said Haygarth as the train got ever closer. ‘When he got involved with this company, he handed over the control of his coal mines to his elder son. I like to keep my hand on the tiller. I’ve given my sons managerial positions but retained overall control of the mills. Unlike Quayle, I’m able to wear more than one hat at a time.’
Colbeck was about to ask him another question but the train surged past and made conversation impossible. Haygarth was lost in a fug of smoke and steam. When it began to clear, he had disappeared into a compartment.
It took time to win Lydia Quayle’s confidence. When she realised why they’d called, Lydia was tempted to ask them to leave and Beatrice was patently anxious to get rid of them. But Madeleine was very persuasive and Leeming had the sense to let her do most of the talking. Alone, he knew, he would have been unable to draw anything out of Lydia. He could now understand why Colbeck had suggested that his wife should be involved in tracing the exiled member of the Quayle family. She had a lightness of touch that Leeming signally lacked.
‘Let me assure you,’ said Madeleine, ‘that we are not here to advise you to return to Nottingham. We’d have no right to do so. That’s a personal decision for you, Miss Quayle.’
‘It certainly is,’ said Beatrice. ‘And that decision has already been made.’
‘How did you find me?’ asked Lydia.
‘We went to Mudie’s Lending Library.’
‘But I’m not even a member.’
‘Miss Myler is.’
When Madeleine explained that Lydia’s predilection for Italy had helped them to run her to earth, Lydia was impressed.
‘That was very enterprising of you, Mrs Colbeck.’
‘It was my husband’s suggestion. He’s had a lot of experience at finding missing persons.’
‘I don’t wish to be pedantic,’ said Beatrice, ‘but Miss Quayle does not qualify as a missing person. When she parted company with her family, she came to London because she preferred to live here. Nobody came in search of her because she was not really missing.’
‘What do you wish to know?’ asked Lydia.
Madeleine was apologetic. ‘We’d have to intrude on your private life.’
‘That’s not permissible,’ Beatrice interjected. ‘Miss Quayle has put that whole world behind her. She has no wish to revive unpleasant memories.’
‘Everybody must want to have a murder solved,’ said Leeming, ‘especially if the victim happens to be their father.’
‘The sergeant is right,’ conceded Lydia.
‘You don’t have to do this,’ Beatrice argued.
‘I feel that I do.’
‘You’ve turned your back on Nottingham.’
‘The situation there has changed. If I can help the investigation in any way, then I ought to do it. There’s no danger. I’ve learnt to confront my past.’
Madeleine was unable to read the glance that was exchanged between the two women but she could see that Beatrice Myler was very unhappy. Lydia, however, was offering to answer questions so Madeleine pressed on.
‘It’s only fair to tell you that my husband has already spoken to Mr Burns.’
‘I see,’ said Lydia.
‘He talked very candidly about the reason he left your father’s employ.’
‘Need we dredge all that up again?’ asked Beatrice, tetchily.
‘If it’s relevant,’ said Lydia, firmly, ‘then we must.’
‘It would be like opening a wound that’s starting to heal.’
‘My father was murdered, Beatrice. He was the person who inflicted the wound. It no longer smarts so much now that I know he’s dead.’
It was Madeleine’s turn to communicate with a glance and Leeming read it correctly. It was the sort of look that his wife gave him when she wanted to have a private discussion with a female neighbour who’d just called in. He rose to his feet.
‘I feel I’m rather in the way,’ he said. ‘I’ll wait outside.’
‘Beatrice will take you into the other room,’ said Lydia, indicating that she’d rather be left alone with Madeleine. She smiled at her friend. ‘Would you mind?’
‘Of course not,’ replied Beatrice, her face impassive as she got up from the chair. ‘Follow me, Sergeant Leeming.’
She led him out then closed the door harder than she needed to have done.
‘I may have to tell you something rather distasteful,’ warned Madeleine.
‘Don’t hold back on my behalf, Mrs Colbeck. I’ve received some terrible blows in my life and I managed to survive them all.’
‘It concerns your friendship with Mr Burns.’
‘Let’s call it by its proper name, shall we?’ said Lydia. ‘It was a romance, an ill-advised one, perhaps, but it meant everything to me at the time.’
‘I can understand that.’
‘I knew from the start that it was an impossible dream but that’s what drove me on, somehow. I wanted to shock and defy convention. Have you ever harboured impossible dreams, Mrs Colbeck?’
‘Yes,’ answered Madeleine, thinking of her marriage to Colbeck and her career as an artist. ‘In my case, the dreams came true.’
‘Did you have no opposition from your father?’
‘None at all — he’s approved of what I’ve done.’
‘Then he must have been a lot more tolerant than mine.’
‘What about your mother? Did she take your side?’
‘She was never consulted properly. All that Mother was told was that I was in disgrace and had to be punished. As you doubtless know, I was taken abroad.’ Lydia pulled a face. ‘Going to Italy had always been my ambition but not under those circumstances. It was an ordeal — until I met Beatrice, that is.’
‘When you lived at home, did you see much of your father?’
‘I saw very little. He was not really interested in me any more than in Agnes, my younger sister. We were simply part of the furniture. Father only took proper notice of my brothers, Stanley and Lucas. They were raised in his image, though Lucas was something of a rebel.’ She smiled fondly. ‘That’s why I got on with him so well. At heart, we were two of a kind.’
‘You must have been to social gatherings of one kind or another.’
‘Oh, yes, we were all dragged off to those — Mother, Agnes and me. Father hardly noticed us. He was too busy shaking hands with people who might be useful to him one day.’
‘You strike me as an observant woman, Miss Quayle. Did you ever see any sign of … enmity towards your father? I don’t mean outright hostility. People are far too careful to show that. But I fancy that you’d have been able to sense if some of the so-called friends were not quite as friendly as they appeared.’
‘Yes,’ said Lydia, ‘I was. When you’ve nothing to do but sit on the sidelines, you notice all manner of things that give people away.’
‘Did you pick out any false friends of your father’s?’
‘Two of them picked themselves out, Mrs Colbeck.’
‘One of them, I suspect, was Mr Haygarth,’ said Madeleine, recalling what she’d read in Colbeck’s letter. ‘He was your father’s rival, wasn’t he? Who was the other person you spotted?’
‘His name is Elijah Wigg. He’s a police superintendent.’
Madeleine was caught off balance. There’d been no mention of Wigg in her husband’s long and detailed missive. She wondered what Vivian Quayle had done to make an enemy in the police force.
‘Why he and father were at odds with each other,’ said Lydia, ‘I don’t know, but they were bound to meet at certain functions. There was a dinner when we found ourselves sitting at the same table as the Wigg family. Father didn’t exchange a single word with him.’