‘Each of us finds happiness in a different way, Miss Quayle.’
‘You still have it — I don’t.’ Lydia reached out to grasp her by the wrist. ‘I can’t face going back there alone, Mrs Colbeck,’ she admitted. ‘I need to ask a big favour of you. Will you come with me?’
Concern over Harriet Quayle’s health had steadily increased. The doctor was honest. He was unable to guarantee that she would survive for long. Agnes sat beside the bed and, during her mother’s more alert moments, read to her from a poetry anthology. Her brothers paid regular visits to the bedroom, as did their respective wives, but the constant coming and going put even more strain on the patient. The whole family came to accept that one funeral might soon be followed by another.
To give his sister some respite, Lucas Quayle offered to take over the vigil on his own. His mother seemed to be asleep so all that he had to do was to sit there and leaf through the poems, pausing at one that he’d been taught to memorise as a child.
‘Is that you, Lucas?’ murmured Harriet, eyelids fluttering weakly.
‘Yes, Mother,’ he said, closing the book.
‘Where is everybody?’
‘Do you want me to call them?’
‘No, no, it’s peaceful in here. Too many people fluster me.’
‘How are you feeling?’
‘I’m still here,’ she said with a quiet defiance. ‘What’s happening?’
‘We’re carrying on as best we can.’
‘I’m not talking about you. What’s happening with … the investigation?’
‘Inspector Colbeck is still making enquiries, Mother.’
‘Has he asked to see me?’
‘No, no,’ said her son, ‘he understands that you are … not in the best of health. I’ve spoken at length to him and Stanley went to Derby to see him. The inspector was not there so Stanley talked to Sergeant Leeming instead.’
‘What have these detectives found out?’
‘All that they’ve managed to do so far is to identify some suspects. But I have faith in the inspector. He’s a very experienced man.’
‘Does he think he’ll ever find out the truth?’
‘Yes, he does, Mother. But you shouldn’t be worrying about that. Remember the doctor’s advice. Try to get as much sleep as possible and keep your mind off any unpleasantness. That’s difficult in a house of mourning, I grant you, but it’s best if you don’t concern yourself with the murder inquiry.’ He saw his mother gasp as if she’d felt a stab of pain. ‘Are you all right?’
‘It was that word, Lucas — murder. It’s so sudden and final. If someone is ailing, you have time to prepare for the worst. The blow is not so painful. When someone is killed abruptly, however … well, you know what I’m trying to say.’
‘I do, Mother.’
She put a hand into his palm. ‘Will you do something for me, please?’
‘You only have to ask.’
‘I know that you’ve been in touch with Lydia. Write to her again,’ said Harriet softly. ‘I’d like to see her before I die.’
It was a balmy evening as they walked along St Peter’s Street in Derby and glanced in the windows of the shops. They passed an ironmonger, a glove-maker, a family draper, a baker, a grocer and many other tradesmen. Victor Leeming was reminded of a street near his own house in London.
‘The only difference is that it’s much noisier there,’ he said, ‘and there’s far more traffic. Then, of course, there’s the stink.’
‘Every major city has its individual flavour,’ said Colbeck, drily. ‘London’s happens to be the worst.’
‘I’d still rather be there than here, sir.’
‘Our return is easily achieved, Victor. We simply have to solve a murder.’
‘This one may take ages. I don’t know where to look next.’
‘Well, my suggestion is that you might start in Belper. Your chat with Philip Conway may have given us a useful clue. If Superintendent Wigg’s brother is a pharmacist there, he might be the source of some of the poison that killed Mr Quayle.’
‘But he’d never admit it, surely,’ said Leeming.
‘Why not?’
‘He’d want to protect his brother.’
‘That would make him an accessory before the fact,’ said Colbeck, ‘and I don’t believe for a moment that Wigg would ask for something able to kill a human being. Poisons can be bought for other reasons. If he did purchase some — and we have no proof that he did — the superintendent would have palmed his brother off with a plausible excuse.’
‘I’ll go to Belper first thing in the morning,’ decided Leeming. ‘After that, I’d like to see what a certain cobbler has to say about his train journey today.’ He looked at Colbeck. ‘What about you, sir?’
‘I’m going to pay a second visit to the victim’s house.’
‘Is that wise? We were more or less kicked out last time.’
‘Lucas Quayle came to see me of his own volition and his brother has obviously mellowed if he went out of his way to make contact with us. Neither, alas,’ said Colbeck, ‘was able to give us any indication as to where their father was on the day of the murder but I’m hoping to find someone who can. After that,’ he went on, ‘I am giving myself a treat.’
‘Are you going back to London to see Mrs Colbeck?’
‘That’s not a treat, Victor, it’s a positive luxury and hopelessly beyond my reach at the moment. No, I’m going to have a tour of the Derby Works.’
Leeming was shocked. ‘You’re going to look at engines?’
‘I want to see the whole production process.’
‘What’s that got to do with a murder case?’
‘It may have more relevance than you think,’ said Colbeck. ‘While you were talking to that young reporter, I had a word with Mr Cope about visiting the Works. He was only too glad to arrange it and to accompany me. In other words …’
‘He wants to keep an eye on you and report back to Mr Haygarth.’
‘Maurice Cope is his spymaster. He seemed to know exactly what we’ve been doing since we got here. It’s one of the reasons I suggested a walk before dinner. At least we can talk freely out here in the street without fear of being overheard.’
‘Do you think they’ve had someone following us?’
‘Cope is getting his information somehow, Victor.’
‘I’d better start looking over my shoulder.’
They strolled on companionably in silence until the Royal Hotel eventually came into view. When they saw a sturdy figure standing outside the main entrance and paying a cab driver, Leeming gave a short laugh.
‘What’s the trouble, Victor?’
‘For one horrible moment, I thought that man was Superintendent Tallis.’
‘Your eyes did not deceive you,’ said Colbeck, easily. ‘It is him. I had a feeling that he’d turn up sooner or later because my reports weren’t able to disguise the fact that we’ve made no significant advances in this investigation. He’ll be able to join us for dinner.’
‘I won’t be able to eat a thing with the superintendent there.’
‘His presence won’t hamper my digestion in the least. Strangely enough — and don’t ask me to explain this — I’m rather pleased to see him.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Female company was something that Madeleine Colbeck had learnt to do without. There were maidservants and a cook in the house but that was not the same as having a woman with whom she could talk on equal terms. Though her aunt paid occasional visits, the age gap between them inevitably steered the conversation in set directions. Being an artist meant that Madeleine had of necessity to spend a great deal of time on her own and she relished that solitude. It was only when she was not at work that she felt lonely. Now that she had a guest of her own age, she realised how much she had been missing.
‘It was so kind of you to offer me accommodation,’ said Lydia Quayle. ‘I’d expected to stay at a hotel.’