‘It was much more than a slight,’ said Tallis. ‘My money is on him.’
‘We know that Burns was in Derby on the night of the murder,’ added Leeming. ‘Why won’t he tell you where he went?’
‘Perhaps I should have a word with him.’
‘No, no, sir,’ said Colbeck, hastily, ‘that would be unwise. If Gerard Burns is our man — and I’m not convinced of that — we should leave him alone and let him think he’s got away with it. If he really is the killer, we’ll amass the evidence that will put a noose around his neck. However, I still think him innocent.’
‘You prefer to see him in terms of his work,’ said Tallis, ‘and choose to forget the scandal he caused at the Quayle household. In my opinion, that’s a more accurate reflection of his character. He’s sly, deceitful and a practised libertine.’
‘What he was drawn into was a genuine romance, sir.’
‘Burns has no moral compass.’
‘Miss Quayle doesn’t believe that, sir,’ recalled Leeming. ‘She loved him for his good qualities. I told you how well she spoke of him.’
‘The fellow was bent on deflowering her.’
An awkward pause ensured. When he realised that he was talking about a gardener, Tallis was embarrassed that he’d chosen that particular word. Colbeck and Leeming traded a glance but said nothing, all too conscious that romance had passed the superintendent by. Tallis neither understood nor approved of relations between the two sexes. If the subject came up, therefore, it was better to let him rehearse his prejudices without challenging them.
‘Where do we go from here?’ he asked.
‘There’s a rather tempting dessert menu in front of you,’ Colbeck pointed out.
‘I’m asking whom you will question tomorrow.’
‘Well, I’m going to see that pharmacist in Belper,’ said Leeming.
‘Save yourself the trouble. Colbeck?’
‘I plan to visit the Quayle family again, sir.’
‘Good,’ said Tallis. ‘I’ll come with you.’
Colbeck sighed. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t impose on you, sir.’
‘Never spurn the assistance of your superior. Besides, a second opinion is always wise.’ He stroked his moustache. ‘Now pass that menu and I’ll see if it contains anything to tempt my palate.’
Jed Hockaday was a different man in uniform. He looked bigger, broader and more upright. His swagger became more pronounced. Having finished work at his shop, he’d closed it up, eaten a frugal meal then stepped out into the streets of Spondon as a police constable. His footsteps took him in the direction of the railway station. Long before he reached it, he heard the train that he was supposed to meet arriving with its customary pandemonium. The cobbler soon saw a uniformed figure leaving the station amid a knot of other passengers. He waited until Elijah Wigg reached him.
‘I expected you on the station platform,’ said Wigg.
‘I’m sorry, sir. I was late closing up.’
‘Punctuality matters. It’s a mark of respect.’
‘It won’t happen again, Superintendent.’
Wigg fell in beside him and they walked back towards the village.
‘What do you have to report?’
‘They’ve found nothing.’
‘Are they still burrowing away?’
‘Yes,’ said Hockaday, ‘but it won’t do them any good.’
‘I hope that’s the case, Constable.’
‘It is, sir. What I don’t see with my own eyes, other people tell me about. They’ve both been here — Inspector Colbeck and the sergeant — but they don’t know where to look.’
‘That’s good to hear.’
‘The real nuisance is that reporter from the Mercury.’
‘Do you mean Conway?’
‘That’s him,’ said Hockaday with a malevolent smile. ‘He’s too clever for his own good. Ever since it happened, he’s been here like a bloodhound in search of a scent. And he’s more likely to find one than the detectives.’
‘Has Conway been bothering you?’
‘Yes, sir — do you know him?’
‘I make it my business to know all the staff on the Mercury. Most of them are well-intentioned bumblers but Conway sticks out. Young men with ambitions are always dangerous.’
‘He and Sergeant Leeming are becoming good friends.’
‘I’m not sure I like the sound of that,’ said Wigg, caressing both of his side whiskers simultaneously. ‘We don’t want them to get too close.’
‘No,’ said the other, ‘Conway is enough of a nuisance as it is.’
‘I’ll see what I can do. Perhaps I’ll have a word with the editor and see if he can move Conway away from Spondon.’
‘I tried to frighten him off, Superintendent.’
‘Did it work?’
‘That’s the trouble. I’m not sure.’
They were almost late for their train. As the cab was about to set off, Madeleine Colbeck remembered something she’d forgotten and rushed back into the house. During the long minutes her friend was away, Lydia Quayle was fretting, afraid that their train would go without them and that they’d be forced to wait for a later one. As it was, Madeleine came out with a flurry of apologies, clambered into the cab and asked the driver to take them to King’s Cross. In spite of heavy traffic, they got there with plenty of time to spare. Since they shared a first-class compartment with other travellers, the two women found it impossible to have a proper conversation. It was only when their companions got off at Bedford that they were able to talk properly.
‘You look uneasy,’ said Madeleine.
‘I’m very nervous,’ admitted Lydia.
‘That’s understandable.’
‘I don’t know what sort of a reception I’ll get.’
‘You know that your younger brother will welcome you and your mother is sure to be pleased that you’ve come home.’
‘It’s not my home any longer, Madeleine. I’m going there to make a gesture and not to move in again. That’s out of the question.’ She smiled gratefully. ‘I couldn’t do this without you. It’s so kind of you to come all the way to Nottingham with me. It would have been much easier for you to stay on this train to Derby where you’d have a chance of seeing your husband.’
‘I can do that afterwards, Lydia. We’ll change at Kettering and catch the train to Nottingham. It’s the least I can do.’
Madeleine was not just prompted by sympathy. At their first encounter, Lydia had given her a privileged insight into the Quayle family and, after her visit home, might be able to furnish other details that had a bearing on the investigation. While acting as a friend, therefore, Madeleine had not entirely shed her role as a detective.
‘How long will you stay?’ she asked.
‘They may not wish me to stay.’
‘It’s your home, Lydia. They’ll insist on it.’
‘Stanley won’t, that’s certain, and I don’t know how Agnes will react.’
‘Blood is thicker than water. You’ll all be drawn together.’
Lydia was dubious. ‘Will we?’
They were passing through open countryside and they took time off to admire the landscape that was speeding past. The rural serenity was a sharp contrast to the tumult of the capital with its urban sprawl and constant smoke. Lydia had grown up in such surroundings but Madeleine could only yearn for them.
‘What will you do afterwards?’ she asked.
‘Well, I hope to see you at some stage, Madeleine.’
‘I’ll be staying at the Royal Hotel — if my husband permits that, of course.’
‘He’s hardly likely to turn you away,’ said Lydia with a laugh. ‘Judging by what you’ve told me about him, I’d say that he’d be thrilled to see you.’
‘And your family will be equally thrilled to see you.’