Points of Danger

Home > Other > Points of Danger > Page 25
Points of Danger Page 25

by Edward Marston


  ‘That’s a matter of opinion.’

  ‘I already know yours. I can still remember the way you looked down your nose at us when you first met our family. Well, you won’t do that to Grace while I’m around.’

  Swarbrick bridled. ‘Are you threatening me?’

  ‘I’m just giving you fair warning,’ said Hern, coldly. His tone softened. ‘I’m sorry about your father’s death. He was a decent man in every way. I liked him. What have the police been doing? Have they made an arrest yet?’

  ‘No, they haven’t, and they don’t look likely to, if you ask me. The famous inspector Colbeck is running around in circles without getting anywhere. He’s floundering.’

  ‘Things may be different now that I’m here.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I haven’t just come to console my sister,’ said Hern, resolutely. ‘I want to catch the killer and strangle him with my bare hands.’

  Hinton was mystified. After knocking on four doors, he still hadn’t found anyone familiar with the name of Fairbank. Born and brought up in a quiet backstreet, he’d known the names of every person in the houses around him. It was a community where secrecy was at a premium. Everyone knew what everyone else did. No barriers existed. He was now in an area of Belgravia where most residents didn’t even seem to be on speaking terms with their neighbours. In answer to his question, all he got were blank faces. As a last resort, he went to the house next to the address he’d been given and rang the bell. A manservant opened the door and raised a polite eyebrow.

  ‘Hello,’ said Hinton, ‘I wonder if you could help me?’

  ‘What is it you want, sir?’

  ‘Does Mr Fairbank live here?’

  ‘No, sir, this is the Edbrooke residence.’

  ‘What about next door?’ he asked, pointing. ‘Is that where Mr Fairbank lives?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think so. In fact, I don’t think there are any gentlemen there. I haven’t seen one, anyway.’

  ‘So who does own the house?’

  ‘It’s a group of women, sir. They’re a colony of artists.’

  Colbeck stayed on the platform until the train pulled out with Leeming aboard. He then headed for the exit. As he expected, Duff fell in beside him, his breath foul with tobacco.

  ‘How long is the sergeant going to be away?’ asked Duff.

  ‘He’ll be gone as long as is necessary.’

  ‘That means you’ll be a man light.’

  ‘Are you volunteering to take his place?’

  ‘I’m here if you need me, inspector.’

  ‘It’s kind of you to offer,’ said Colbeck, ‘but I can manage.’

  ‘Actually,’ said Duff, stepping in front of him and forcing him to stop, ‘I just wanted a word. It’s true that I was dismissed from the Metropolitan Police Force but only because my sergeant took against me. I was in a public house late at night when I was still on duty. The licensee was a brute, sir. We all knew that he beat his wife. When I heard her screaming that night, I went in to rescue her.’

  ‘That was very noble of you,’ said Colbeck, not believing a word. ‘Did you arrest the husband?’

  ‘He’d fallen asleep in a drunken stupor.’

  ‘Ah, I see, so you had to console his wife.’

  ‘It’s what any right-thinking man would’ve done, sir.’

  ‘And the sergeant caught you at it, did he?’

  ‘It was so unfair,’ said Duff, bunching his fists. ‘I was ready to give her husband a dose of his own medicine.’

  ‘If the man had a history of battering his wife, you could have arrested him for assault. Battering him in turn would have solved nothing. For what it’s worth,’ said Colbeck, ‘I believe what the records say about your police career.’

  ‘But that gives a false impression of me.’

  ‘It’s in perfect accord with my own judgement.’

  Easing Duff aside, he walked briskly away.

  When he came into the room, Grace emitted a cry of joy, leapt up and ran into Hern’s arms. All that Anthea Freed could do was to stand there and witness the tearful reunion. When Grace had stopped crying and Hern had stopped assuring her that everything would be all right, Anthea had an opportunity to give the visitor a proper welcome.

  ‘May I offer you some refreshment, Mr Hern?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s been a very long journey. I’d love a glass of whisky.’

  Anthea was firm. ‘We’re teetotal in this house.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I forgot. I do apologise. In that case, I’ll have nothing.’

  ‘I was hoping you’d come earlier, Michael,’ said Grace.

  ‘The moment I heard the news, I packed my bag and set out. It’s so maddening to live that far away.’ He hugged her again, then eased her back into her chair before turning to the other woman. ‘I’m very sorry, Mrs Freed. I’ve worried myself sick about my sister. What I should have done was to thank you for everything you’ve done for Grace. It’s a huge imposition on you.’

  ‘I don’t feel that,’ said Anthea. ‘Grace is a dear friend. I’m glad to have her where I can look after her. Leaving her alone at the house with Andrew would have been cruel.’

  ‘I can well believe it. I called on him first just to let him know that I was here. He won’t bother my sister any more.’

  ‘I simply had to get out of there,’ said Grace, ‘but, we were in such a rush, I didn’t have time to bring everything I needed and I’m too afraid to go back there.’

  ‘It’s quite safe now,’ he told her. ‘Andrew is going to London. You can go and get whatever you need, Grace.’

  ‘Better still,’ offered Anthea, ‘you can make a list and I’ll fetch everything for you.’

  ‘I couldn’t ask you to do that,’ said Grace.

  ‘We’ll go together,’ decided Hern. ‘But, first of all, I want to hear what the police have been up to. Andrew mentioned a famous inspector Colbeck. Who is he and what success has he had so far?’

  It happened once again. When they went into the garden so that Tallis could smoke a cigar, he looked and sounded as if there was nothing wrong with him. There was no mention of his resort to prayer and he was patently unaware that Wardlow had entered his bedroom and seen him on his knees. He was pleasant and moderately cheerful.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that suggestion of yours, Terence.’

  ‘Which one do you mean? I made several.’

  ‘You thought we might pay a visit to the barracks.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Wardlow. ‘When you stayed here last, you were forced to miss the regimental dinner. As you were the guest of honour, it was particularly galling.’

  ‘I was presented with my award in a private ceremony.’

  ‘It wasn’t the same, Edward.’

  ‘I know,’ said the other, sombrely. He forced a smile. ‘They did invite me to return at any time.’

  ‘Then we’ll go tomorrow. Will that suit you?’

  ‘Yes, please. I miss the sight of army uniforms.’

  ‘I still have my old dress uniform,’ said Wardlow with a chuckle. ‘It’s upstairs in a wardrobe, smelling of mothballs.’

  ‘It was so kind of you to invite me here, Terence. I’ve really started to enjoy this break from work.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘You were right. I pushed myself far too hard.’

  ‘You did, Edward.’

  ‘My life was nothing but a treadmill.’

  ‘You deserve to get off it for a while.’

  Tallis pulled on his cigar then exhaled a cloud of smoke. They strolled around the lawn and reminisced about their army days. Coming to an abrupt halt, Tallis turned to his friend.

  ‘You will tell me, won’t you?’ he implored. ‘If I behave badly, you must rebuke me, Terence.’

  ‘You’ve been a trifle erratic, that’s all.’

  ‘I’d hate to upset your wife.’

  ‘It hasn’t happened so far.’

  ‘That’s a relief. Help me to make sure t
hat it never happens. My mind plays all kinds of tricks on me, but I feel so much better now. That’s largely thanks to you and Mrs Wardlow.’ He pulled on his cigar again then waved a hand to dispel the smoke as he exhaled it. ‘Retirement has a lot of virtues. Perhaps it’s something I should consider.’

  Colbeck was on his way to visit Cecil Freed when he saw the jaunty figure of Oliver Trant coming towards him. They exchanged greetings.

  ‘I hear that Sergeant Leeming was heroic last night,’ said Trant. ‘He overpowered Andrew Swarbrick who was trying to force his way into a certain person’s house.’

  ‘Is that what Mr Freed told you?’

  ‘Oh, no, he’s far too discreet. I got the information elsewhere.’

  ‘May one ask from whom?’

  Trant smirked. ‘That’s a secret, inspector.’

  ‘I should imagine that you were delighted to hear something about Mr Swarbrick that’s to his disadvantage.’

  ‘I wish I’d been there to witness the event.’

  ‘It’s water under the bridge now, Mr Trant.’

  ‘I’ll keep a bucket of that water,’ said the other. ‘It may come in useful if Andrew and I compete to replace his father in Parliament.’ He glanced towards the building behind him. ‘If you’re going to see Cecil, you must have news about the investigation. Am I correct?’

  ‘That’s confidential information, sir,’ said Colbeck.

  Walking past Trant, he went into the building to be shown immediately into Freed’s office.

  ‘I’ve got some news for you, inspector,’ said Freed. ‘My wife sent word that Grace’s brother has arrived at last from Jersey.’

  ‘That’s good to hear. I look forward to meeting him.’

  ‘Michael Hern is an interesting man. You may find him a little forthright at first, but he improves on acquaintance.’

  ‘What does he do for a living?’

  ‘He’s not exactly an estate agent but is involved in all manner of property deals. On the one occasion when Jarvis visited the island, he stayed with Hern and his family at their wonderful house by the sea. It had its own jetty. Jarvis was very impressed.’

  ‘I’m surprised that Mr Swarbrick found the time for a holiday. You told me that he was dedicated to his political career.’

  ‘He and Grace were only in Jersey for a few days. The moment they got back, Jarvis went off to a series of meetings in London. He was very much an absent husband, I’m afraid.’

  ‘His wife seems to have coped with that,’ said Colbeck. ‘By the way, I just bumped into Mr Trant.’

  ‘Yes, he came to solicit my support once again.’

  ‘Your vote would go to Mr Swarbrick, surely?’

  ‘It ought to – if only out of loyalty to his father. But last night’s episode has made me question Andrew’s fitness for the office. I told him so to his face.’

  ‘Politicians are not known for their sobriety.’

  ‘Unlike my wife, I don’t censure a man if he has a drink now and again. But I abhor any kind of violence – especially on my doorstep.’

  ‘Mr Trant somehow got to hear about the fracas.’

  ‘How did he manage that?’

  ‘You might ask that question of your servants, sir.’

  ‘I most certainly will,’ vowed Freed.

  ‘I just came to tell you that we’re making slow but steady progress. Sergeant Leeming has gone back to London to deliver a report and to request some additional help.’

  ‘Don’t you have enough police at your disposal?’

  ‘They don’t have the skills of a detective,’ said Colbeck. ‘That’s not a criticism. Their prime function is to uphold the law and protect the public. They’ve had no experience of dealing with a murder.’

  ‘None of us has, inspector.’

  ‘The perpetrator may have fled but his accomplice is still here. In fact, there may be more than one. When the sergeant was in Yarmouth earlier today, he had a distinct feeling that he was being followed.’

  ‘It could have been a pickpocket. They’re always mingling with the crowds because people tend to be off guard when they’re on holiday.’

  ‘Pickpockets choose their targets carefully, sir. They’d never go after someone as sturdy as Sergeant Leeming. He’s far too alert and, as you saw, he can handle himself well in a brawl.’

  ‘So, who was this person following him?’

  ‘He never found out,’ said Colbeck, ‘but I believe that it could be someone connected to the murder. If so, it’s a good sign. It means that he’s worried by the amount of progress we’ve made. Now that the sergeant is no longer here to be followed, I’m hoping that he’ll switch his attention to me.’

  ‘Is that wise?’ asked Freed in alarm.

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘You could be in danger.’

  Colbeck smiled. ‘I’ve been in danger from the moment I joined the police force,’ he said, airily. ‘I’ve learnt to live harmoniously with it.’

  Bartram Duff was late leaving the station because some cattle broke out of a stock wagon and he had to help to round them up. Once they were safely restored to the wagon, he made his way to a pub in one of the less salubrious parts of the city. His friend was seated in a corner. Duff went swiftly across to him.

  ‘Well,’ he asked, ‘what did you find out in Yarmouth?’

  Alan Hinton was bewildered by his discovery. Though he was tempted to pass on the information to Madeleine, he saw an opportunity to see Lydia Quayle once again. He’d been to her house before and knew that it was only ten minutes away by cab. On the way there, he speculated on the reason why Lionel Fairbank had told what turned out to be a blatant lie. When he reached Lydia’s house, she was surprised yet delighted to see him, sensing that he had some important news. He told her who lived at the address and her jaw dropped open in astonishment.

  ‘It’s a colony of female artists?’

  ‘There are such things. Madeleine is one of them.’

  ‘But Mr Fairbank said that his son lived there.’

  ‘Nobody had ever heard that name.’

  ‘But that’s definitely where he was staying,’ said Lydia. ‘We know that he was honest about that because Madeleine’s letter reached him at that address.’

  ‘It could have been passed on to him by one of the occupants.’

  ‘How many of them are there?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. I didn’t want to knock on the door in case Fairbank really was there. If he’s as intelligent as Madeleine said, he might have guessed that he was being spied on and taken offence.’

  ‘You did the right thing, Alan.’

  ‘Perhaps Mrs Colbeck should think again about working for him,’ he suggested. ‘Nobody can trust a man who told such a barefaced lie.’

  ‘What do you think we should do?’

  ‘We need to gather more evidence before we tell Madeleine. I’ll be at Scotland Yard all day tomorrow, so you’ll have to take over.’

  Lydia grinned. ‘That sounds exciting!’

  ‘I think you should go to the gallery that sells her paintings. If there’s anything of Madeleine’s on display, show an interest and ask if he has work by any other female artist.’

  ‘Should I mention Mr Fairbank?’

  ‘No,’ he cautioned. ‘Keep his name out of it. When you’ve got some details from the owner, you can go to Madeleine and tell her what we’ve found out between us.’

  ‘That’s a brilliant idea, Alan!’

  ‘It’s what inspector Colbeck would have done.’

  ‘Oh, I think he’d have been more suspicious of Mr Fairbank at the very start. We can’t blame Madeleine. She was flattered by the praise he heaped on her. In her eyes, the commission was a bona fide offer.’

  ‘It may still turn out that way,’ he said. ‘We mustn’t condemn him out of hand. There may be a straightforward explanation for what I discovered, and we’ll both be left red-faced for jumping to a conclusion before we weighed up the evidence properly.’

&nbs
p; ‘That’s true,’ she said.

  ‘Anyway, I must thank you for involving me in this little mystery. It’s really intrigued me.’

  ‘You were the obvious person, Alan. Oh,’ she went on, ‘this commission has meant so much to Madeleine. I’d hate to disappoint her. I do hope I’ll be able to tell her some good news tomorrow.’

  When he got to the house, Grace Swarbrick and her brother had already returned. They told Colbeck that they’d been to retrieve some clothing and other items from Grace’s bedroom.

  ‘It was wonderful to be able to walk so freely around my own house again,’ she said. ‘As you know, when Andrew was there, I hid upstairs.’

  ‘He had no right to make you do that,’ said Hern, ‘especially, as it now transpires, the house has been bequeathed to you.’

  ‘I didn’t expect that, Michael, and I’m not sure I want it.’

  ‘Would you rather it went to that reptilian stepson of yours?’

  ‘I’d just prefer that there were no family rows,’ said Grace. ‘At a time like this, it’s improper as well as lowering.’

  The three of them were seated in the drawing room. Colbeck’s first impressions of the brother were favourable. He found him frank, direct and astute. Colbeck particularly liked the man’s deep, rich voice.

  ‘I’m sorry that you had to be dragged back here like this, Mr Hern.’

  ‘It’s my own fault, inspector,’ said the other. ‘One of the penalties of living in the Channel Islands is that you’re rather cut off. And, of course, we’re far closer to France than we are to the British mainland.’

  ‘The French have been pointing that out for a very long time.’

  ‘That battle is finally resolved,’ said Hern. ‘We’re firmly in British hands now. But you didn’t come to hear about Jersey. Tell me about the investigation. Mrs Freed gave me some information, but I suspect that there’s a lot more I need to hear.’

  ‘Some of it may be a little disturbing for you, Mrs Swarbrick,’ said Colbeck, considerately. ‘If you wish, we could adjourn to another room.’

 

‹ Prev