Points of Danger

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Points of Danger Page 24

by Edward Marston


  ‘Might I see the letters he wrote to you, please?’ asked Hinton.

  ‘Yes, of course. I’ll get them.’

  When Madeleine left the room, the mood changed instantly. Lydia and Hinton smiled at each other and let their feelings show. She thanked him for responding so quickly to her summons.

  ‘Mr Fairbank may, of course, be quite innocuous,’ she said.

  ‘He may indeed, Lydia.’

  ‘In some ways, that will be a disappointment.’

  ‘Yes, it will,’ he agreed. ‘It will rob me of an excuse to see you.’

  ‘You don’t need excuses, Alan.’

  They gazed fondly at each other for some time. The sound of approaching footsteps made them move apart. Madeleine came in and handed the two letters to Hinton. The first one she’d received gave him some indication of Fairbank’s character and showed a genuine appreciation of her work as an artist. The second letter made his eyes pop.

  ‘Two hundred pounds!’ he exclaimed.

  ‘It’s far too much,’ said Madeleine, modestly.

  ‘It depends what you have to do to get it,’ warned Lydia. ‘I think that he gave himself away by his second visit here.’

  ‘You’re right to be concerned,’ decided Hinton, handing the letters back. ‘On the other hand, the gentleman deserves the benefit of the doubt, so let’s not rush to judgement. If you’re going to work for him, you need to know as much as you can about this person. I’ll get over there now.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Madeleine. ‘It’s very kind of you.’

  ‘The inspector would want me to do everything I can to help.’

  ‘Is there any news about Superintendent Tallis?’

  ‘Unhappily, there isn’t,’ said Hinton, sadly. ‘I can only hope that Captain Wardlow is looking after him. It’s not a job that I’d care to do.’

  When Tallis retired to his room that afternoon, Wardlow assumed that he’d gone off for a nap. Hours then passed, and he began to wonder what his guest was doing. Creeping upstairs, he tapped lightly on Tallis’s door and waited. There was no response. When he knocked for the second time, he called out his friend’s name, but it was in vain. Wardlow was gripped by the sudden fear that he wasn’t there any longer and had slipped out of the house without anyone noticing. Grabbing the handle of the door, he opened it wide and looked into the room. Surprisingly, Tallis was still inside it but he was sublimely unaware that he had a visitor. Kneeling beside the bed, hands closed in prayer, he was sending up silent pleas to heaven. It was an affecting sight and made Wardlow feel guilty for bursting in. Mouthing an apology, he went out again and closed the door gently behind him.

  ‘What happened?’ asked Colbeck.

  ‘I felt someone pressing up against me,’ explained Leeming, ‘so I turned round to grab him. It was a natural reaction, sir.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Instead of catching the man I was after, I had my arms around a fat lady who screeched so loudly that everyone was looking at me as if I was trying to molest her.’

  He went on to describe the incident and its consequences in full. Though he was very sympathetic, Colbeck couldn’t help laughing and that only added to Leeming’s distress. It took several minutes to placate him. The sergeant had taken a cab from Norwich Station to the cottage where they were staying.

  ‘Did the Flying Fish come back?’ asked Colbeck.

  ‘No, sir, they couldn’t give me an exact time for its return. Steamships depart regularly from Yarmouth and their estimated times are fairly predictable. When a vessel is under sail, it’s more difficult.’

  ‘So what have you brought back – apart from the urge to tell me about your unintended embrace with a corpulent woman?’

  ‘It’s not funny, sir,’ protested Leeming.

  ‘I’m sorry, Victor. I shouldn’t poke fun.’

  ‘That man was following me. I swear it.’

  ‘And did he get on to the second train after you did?’

  ‘No, he didn’t. He’d disappeared before it arrived. My guess is that he got on the earlier train that I should have caught.’

  ‘That means he was heading back to Norwich. Did you have the feeling that he was waiting for you when you got to the station?’ Leeming shook his head. ‘Let’s forget about him for the time being. Tell me why you were so keen to report to me?’

  ‘I think I made a discovery, sir.’ Moving to the table, Leeming opened the atlas at the requisite page and stood back. ‘What do you notice?’

  ‘I can see that the atlas is on its last legs. It’s falling to pieces.’

  ‘Look at Yarmouth. Can you see how far it is to Cherbourg?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Colbeck, studying the map, ‘it’s quite a way and could well be a tricky voyage. They’d have to sail through the Strait of Dover.’

  ‘What else do you notice?’

  Colbeck pored over the atlas for a few minutes, letting his eye trace the likely course of the journey between Yarmouth and the Normandy peninsula. His gaze then drifted back out to sea and he jabbed a finger at a group of islands.

  ‘This is what you mean, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, sir, and it’s the reason I went straight back to the harbour. I asked them if the Flying Fish would sail back by the same route and they told me it would call in at Jersey first.’ Leeming grinned. ‘Can you see the way my mind was working?’

  ‘I can indeed, Victor, and I congratulate you. We thought that John Gorey was a false name and now we know why he chose it. The answer is right here,’ said Colbeck, tapping the map. ‘Gorey is a town in Jersey. The killer was going home.’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  It was late afternoon when Caleb Andrews called on his daughter and he was puzzled. As soon as he was admitted to the house, he went straight into the drawing room to join Madeleine.

  ‘I’ve just seen Constable Hinton getting into a cab with Lydia.’

  ‘That’s right, Father. They left a few moments ago.’

  ‘Did they come here together?’

  ‘No,’ replied Madeleine, ‘it was just a coincidence that Lydia happened to be here when Alan Hinton came to tell me about the superintendent.’

  ‘Have they put him in a straitjacket yet?’

  ‘Father!’

  ‘Well, it’s obvious he’s out of his mind.’

  ‘It isn’t obvious at all,’ she said, ‘and it’s wrong of you to make such a comment when you’ve never even seen the man. Superintendent Tallis has been under immense strain, that’s all. He needs a rest.’

  ‘It’s all right for someone like him,’ complained Andrews. ‘When I was an engine driver, I was always under strain. I was out in all weathers and working long, hard, punishing hours. If anybody needed a rest it was me, but did they let me have it?’

  ‘You can have all the rest you want now, Father.’

  ‘No, I can’t, Maddy. I get bored.’

  She laughed. ‘There’s no pleasing you, is there?’

  ‘Yes, there is. Just let me see my lovely granddaughter.’

  ‘She’ll be down again very soon.’

  ‘Good,’ said Andrews, contentedly. ‘So, what did Hinton tell you?’

  ‘He said that the superintendent was being looked after by his good friend, Captain Wardlow. Robert met him in Canterbury and thought he was the best person to turn to in the emergency. Alan Hinton doesn’t envy him,’ said Madeleine. ‘The captain has got a very difficult job.’

  ‘Tallis should be forced to retire.’

  ‘That would be a heavy blow to his pride.’

  ‘It’s high time he stepped aside for Robert.’

  ‘There’s no vacancy. Tallis will be back somehow. I feel it.’

  ‘Is that what Hinton told you?’

  ‘It’s what he’s hoping.’

  Andrews chuckled. ‘I’d say he’s got more important hopes to worry about,’ he said. ‘You should have seen the grin on his face as he helped Lydia into the cab.’

  ‘They’re good friends.�
��

  ‘Where were they going?’

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ said Madeleine, coolly. ‘Would you like some tea?’

  ‘No, but I tell you what I would like, Maddy. I know that you don’t want me to talk about him, but you did say that we were friends again.’

  ‘We’re father and daughter. That’s an even stronger bond.’

  ‘Then just answer a simple question.’

  ‘What is it?’ she asked, warily.

  He beamed. ‘How much is Mr Fairbank offering to pay you?’

  Now that they felt they had a vital piece of evidence, they put it to the test. As befitted a former barrister, Colbeck acted as devil’s advocate.

  ‘How do we know that Gorey sailed on to Jersey?’

  ‘I feel it in my bones, sir.’

  ‘We need stronger proof than that, Victor.’

  ‘They told me that the Flying Fish is the only vessel in Yarmouth that calls in at Jersey on its return voyage. If the killer wanted to go there, he’d have to be on board when it put to sea.’

  ‘But we can’t be sure that he did want to go there.’

  ‘Mrs Swarbrick came from Jersey originally. That has to be important. I believe the killer was hired by someone in her past, someone perhaps who was upset when she married Swarbrick.’

  ‘What if his name really is John Gorey?’

  ‘Then he’d be the only villain I know who tells the truth. He used the false name in order to cover his tracks.’

  The questions kept coming and Leeming answered every one of them with confidence. In the end, Colbeck gave up.

  ‘You did well, Victor.’

  ‘It was that moment in the bookshop,’ said the other. ‘Unlike you, I don’t get sudden revelations that open a door on a case. But I did get one today. I don’t think it was pure chance that I picked up that atlas. I was meant to see it.’

  ‘You spotted the town of Gorey far sooner than I did.’

  ‘We’ll have to go there at once.’

  ‘Someone has to stay here, I’m afraid, and that will be me.’

  Leeming was worried. ‘I’ll be on my own?’

  ‘I have to continue the investigation here,’ explained Colbeck. ‘Meanwhile, you’ll sneak off, but nobody must know where you’ve gone. The killer had help from someone at the railway station. If the accomplice knows that you’ve gone to Jersey, he’ll realise why.’

  ‘Aren’t you even going to tell Mr Freed?’

  ‘He’s the last person in whom I’ll confide.’

  ‘I’d have thought you could trust him, sir.’

  ‘I can’t trust his wife, Victor. Mrs Freed is an intelligent woman and she’d sense right away that her husband was keeping a secret from her. Somehow she’d wheedle it out of him. And the moment that she is aware of our movements …’

  ‘She’s bound to tell Mrs Swarbrick. But wait a moment,’ said Leeming, scratching his head, ‘shouldn’t we be asking Mrs Swarbrick if she knows anyone from Gorey?’

  ‘I’d rather keep her in the dark,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘She lived in Jersey, sir. I’ll be a complete stranger there.’

  ‘It’s a small island, Victor. You’ll soon find your way around.’

  ‘I have so little information to go on, sir.’

  ‘Start at the harbour. Find out how many passengers disembarked from the Flying Fish. Contact the police. They’ll know the local villains. There can’t be many capable of doing what this man did.’

  ‘I’d still like some help from Mrs Swarbrick.’

  ‘She’s in no position to give it,’ said Colbeck. ‘I’ve seen the state she’s in. She’s still very delicate. Her stepson’s unwelcome visit last night certainly won’t have improved her health.’

  ‘It’s just as well we turned up when we did.’

  ‘As for the killer, you have to remember that Mrs Swarbrick was face-to-face with him, albeit briefly. She saw his face clearly yet didn’t recognise him. What I can do,’ he said, ‘is to give you the address in St Helier where Mrs Swarbrick’s brother lives. I made a point of asking Mr Freed for it when he talked about Mrs Swarbrick’s former life in the Channel Islands. Freed wrote to tell him what had happened to his sister. He’s probably on his way here now, but there’ll be other family members still at the house.’

  ‘That will be helpful, sir. I need all the assistance I can get.’ Leeming gritted his teeth. ‘I can’t say I’m looking forward to it. Do I have to sail from Yarmouth?’

  ‘No, Victor, it would entail unnecessary delay. You’ll go by train to Portsmouth and sail by steamship. It will be much faster.’

  ‘I feel so … unprepared.’

  ‘I have every faith in you, Victor.’

  ‘Is there nothing else you can say?’

  ‘Yes, there is,’ said Colbeck. ‘Bon voyage!’

  Andrew Swarbrick’s urge to see his father’s will was greater than ever. Because of his aggressive behaviour towards Neville Gilby, the solicitor had refused to let him see the document until there was a formal reading of it. Swarbrick spent that afternoon making an even more exhaustive search of his father’s study, but his efforts were wasted. He came to the conclusion that it was no longer in the house but must be kept in the apartment that his father routinely used in London. Getting his hands on the document was vital. If he was to contest the will, he must be familiar with every word in it. He could then take legal advice. Having made the decision to return to London, he was about to leave the study when there was a tap on the door and the housekeeper entered. She bobbed.

  ‘There’s a gentleman to see Mrs Swarbrick,’ she said.

  ‘You know full well that she’s not here.’

  ‘I told him that, sir, but he’s asked to speak to you.’

  ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Michael Hern.’

  Swarbrick scowled. It was Grace’s brother.

  They had the pleasure of sharing the same cab because the address that Alan Hinton had been given was on the way to Lydia’s house. They were able to enjoy warm proximity for once. When they reached Belgravia, the driver brought the cab to a halt and Hinton alighted, collecting a dazzling smile of farewell from Lydia as he did so. He waved the cab off, then began work. Finding the address he wanted, he went across the road to the house directly opposite. The properties were uniformly large, stylish and in an excellent state of repair. Compared to them, his lodging was cramped, mean and uncomfortable. He had to fight off the mixture of resentment and intimidation he often felt when confronted with evidence of wealth. It suddenly occurred to him that he could have asked Lydia Quayle to stay with him. In such surroundings, she’d have been completely at ease. Moreover, she would have been delighted to be involved, if only fleetingly, in detective work. Hinton scolded himself for not suggesting that they worked together, albeit illicitly.

  He used the knocker and stood waiting. When the door opened, a pretty young maidservant came into view.

  ‘Can I help you, sir?’

  ‘I hope so,’ said Hinton. ‘I’m looking for someone who lives at this end of the road, but I don’t have the number. The name is Fairbank. Does that name mean anything to you?’

  ‘I’m afraid not.’

  ‘How long have you been here?’

  ‘I’ve been here long enough to know some of our neighbours,’ she said, ‘and there’s no Fairbank among them.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  ‘But that doesn’t mean the person you’re after doesn’t live here somewhere. These houses have six bedrooms. You might have people with three or four different names under one roof.’

  ‘Thank you for your help.’

  As he turned away, the girl closed the door behind. Hinton realised that it was not going to be as easy as he’d imagined. He was not daunted. Doing a favour for Madeleine Colbeck meant that he got closer to Lydia and he’d do anything to achieve that. It was time to knock on more doors.

  As he drove the trap towards the station, Colbeck was able to give Leeming
some final instructions. Knowing that the sergeant would probably be approached by Horace Pryor, he told him to say that he was returning to Scotland Yard to deliver a report. The same information could be used to parry Duff. Since his companion clearly had misgivings, Colbeck told him to see the trip as an adventure which would, hopefully, end with the arrest of the killer. Bolstered by that thought, Leeming began to look forward to his assignment.

  ‘What will you be doing, sir?’

  ‘Oh, I’ll have my hands full talking to everyone who might have something useful to say – Andrew Swarbrick, for instance.’

  ‘You’ve already spoken to him, sir.’

  ‘His mood has changed now that he realises that his father gave preference to his wife in his will. I’d like to probe him about his dislike of his stepmother. It seems to be quite out of proportion.’

  ‘From what I saw of him, he’s just a nasty, spiteful man.’

  ‘He’s a prickly individual, I agree,’ said Colbeck, ‘but I suspect he’ll be more amenable after last night’s display of bad temper. If he wants to win votes in this city, he’ll have to learn to be nice to people.’

  Michael Hern was a tall, well-built, elegant man in his late forties with a face that was striking rather than handsome. When they’d first met, he and Swarbrick had disliked each other on sight. The hostility remained. Swarbrick didn’t offer a handshake and Hern would not, in any case, have accepted it.

  ‘Your sister is staying with Mr and Mrs Freed,’ said Swarbrick.

  ‘Why is she there?’

  ‘It was her decision.’

  ‘This is her home. Why couldn’t Mrs Freed move in here to be with Grace?’

  ‘Ask her.’

  ‘I think she left here because of you,’ said Hern, accusingly. ‘When my sister offered the hand of friendship, all you did was to turn your back on her. Grace deserved better than that, Swarbrick.’

 

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