‘Thanks for doing that. I’ll make a point of speaking to Alf Kingston myself.’
‘You’ve done him enough favours over the years. It’s high time that he did one for you. However,’ she went on, handing him the notebook and pencil she’d just retrieved from Colbeck’s office, ‘let’s do some initial detective work.’
They were seated alone in the drawing room. Lydia had left them and promised to make contact with Alan Hinton, but Madeleine was not going to wait for him.
‘Write down the answers,’ she instructed. ‘I’m just going to do what Robert would do, were he here.’
He lifted the pencil. ‘I’m ready, Maddy.’
‘When did you last see your medal?’
‘Oh, it was some time ago, I think …’
‘Was it weeks, months, longer than that?’
‘It was a month or more, I reckon.’
‘Put that down as your answer.’ He scribbled away. ‘Now then, why did you take it out?’
‘It needs a polish from time to time, Maddy.’
She was amused. ‘It would hardly get tarnished when it was kept in a box with a velvet interior.’
‘I have a routine.’
‘Write that down as well.’ She waited until he’d finished. ‘Now, is there any other reason that would make you unlock that cupboard and get the medal out?’
‘Well, I have taken it out from time to time.’
‘Why is that?’
‘They’ve asked to see it.’
‘Who have?’
‘I’ve shown it to friends.’
‘How many of them?’
He looked guilty. ‘A lot.’
Leeming felt that his visit to the King’s Arms had been rewarding. He’d tasted the beer, learnt a great deal about Norman Tiller and met the smallest landlord in the county, if not in the whole of England. Penrose had turned out to be a mine of information about Kendal and its inhabitants. Since it was now evening, the sergeant made his way back to the Riverside Hotel. He was astounded to learn that Walter Vine was waiting for him in the lounge. His arm still in a sling, the man was seated in a high-backed leather chair.
‘Ah, there you are!’ he said as if he was talking to a naughty dog that had just come into the house with muddy paws. ‘Sit down a moment.’
‘If you wish,’ said Leeming, obeying the command.
‘I’ve simply come to explain something.’
‘You did that at our last meeting, sir.’
‘That was regrettable. When I realised why you were there, I was angry that you’d dare to link my name to the disappearance of Alex Piper. What I told you was correct. I was over a hundred miles away at the time. A dozen witnesses would vouch for me.’
‘There’s no need for them to do that, Mr Vine. I accept your word without question.’
‘Oh, I see,’ said the other, taken aback. ‘So my innocence is already recognised, is it?’
‘Nobody is accusing you, sir.’
‘Somebody must have given you my name. It was that creepy lawyer, Hedley, I daresay. He must have told you that Piper and I were sworn enemies.’
‘As a matter of fact, he didn’t. That information came from another source that I’m not prepared to disclose. You and Mr Piper were friends, I gather.’
‘That was a long time ago.’
‘Can’t you even spare an iota of sympathy for him?’
‘No, I can’t.’
‘But you’d like to know what fate befell him, surely?’
‘I just want to know if he’s dead.’
Leeming sat back and appraised him, conscious that he was probably looking at another version of Piper. There was a difference, however. Where the latter had, allegedly, been pulsing with life, Vine seemed cold and subdued. Leeming looked at the sling and saw the dressing on the arm beneath it. It was not the kind of wound that he’d be likely to collect from a mere fall. That it was still giving him pain was obvious. Vine kept wincing.
‘Are you a fencing man, sir?’ asked Leeming.
‘I was in my younger days.’
‘What about shooting?’
‘You’re being infernally intrusive,’ snapped the other. ‘I’ve done what I needed to do, so please tell Inspector Colbeck that neither he nor you has a need to pester me any further.’ With an effort, he swung himself up on his feet, touching his wounded arm gingerly as he did so. ‘Good day to you, Sergeant.’
‘Goodbye, sir.’
But he was already talking to Vine’s back as the man headed for the door with long strides. Though it had been a brief and disagreeable encounter, it had told Leeming something that might have a bearing on the case. Walter Vine and, reportedly, Alexander Piper were both handsome, debonair young bachelors drawn together by common interests. When they shared an interest in a particular woman, however, the friendship turned into a feud. Leeming was now certain that the person who’d split them apart was Caroline Treadgold.
Arriving once more at the Treadgold residence, Colbeck had to wait some time before he could speak to Caroline because she was resting after the effort of taking part in the search. He contented himself with learning more about her background. She came from a moneyed family and her only sibling was a younger sister. Her parents were of one mind, supportive, anxious and slightly embarrassed to have such an outspoken daughter. While they drew back from direct criticism of Piper, it was evident that they felt he’d let their daughter down badly.
When she finally appeared, Colbeck saw how much trouble she must have taken with her appearance and he was duly impressed with the result. Caroline was no longer the weary, tousle-haired, wind-blown young woman who’d returned home earlier. She exuded energy. He noticed immediately how much more worldly she was than Melissa Haslam could ever be. Her parents offered to stay but she told them, politely yet firmly, that it was unnecessary. Caroline waited until they’d gone before she spoke to her visitor.
‘Geoffrey Hedley said that you wished to speak to me, so let me make one thing clear at the outset. I was not,’ she went on, meeting his gaze confidently, ‘involved in any way with Alex’s disappearance.’
‘Why should you imagine that I believed you were?’
‘Other people do, Inspector. They view me as a scarlet woman. You’ve probably heard some of them say so.’
‘I didn’t come to Kendal to pick up idle tittle-tattle.’
‘That’s reassuring to hear.’
‘Since you were close to Mr Piper, I simply felt that you might tell me things about him that nobody else could.’
‘It’s more than likely.’
‘But my first question is this – why didn’t you travel on the Phantom Special?’
‘I wasn’t invited to do so.’
‘You strike me as the kind of person who’d be undeterred by the absence of an invitation. Had you really wished to go, you’d have been on that train.’
She smiled. ‘You’re very perceptive, Inspector.’
‘So what held you back? I can’t believe that it was out of consideration for Miss Haslam that you decided to stay away from the excursion.’
‘It certainly wasn’t,’ said Caroline. ‘I have nothing against Miss Haslam as a person. She has many fine qualities. But the fact remains that she deprived me of the man I love.’
‘Your anger – if that’s what it was – should have been directed at him rather than at her.’
‘I agree. And it was, believe me.’
‘Mr Hedley told me that, in effect, you were set on winning him back.’
She thrust out her chin. ‘I’m not ashamed of that.’
‘That depends on what lengths you were prepared to go.’
‘Are you married, Inspector?’
‘Yes, I am, and eternally grateful to be so.’
‘A man as striking and urbane as you must have made many hearts flutter at one time. Your wife must have emerged triumphant out of a prolonged tussle with her rivals.’
‘You flatter me, Miss Treadgold. Ther
e was no stampede for my attention. The lady who is now my dear wife was drawn to me because I arrested the man who’d tried to kill her father.’ Caroline gasped. ‘I’d have preferred our friendship to have started in a more romantic setting, but my profession tends to take me into the more hazardous areas of life.’
‘Some women might find that very exciting.’
‘Is that what appealed to you about Mr Piper? It’s common report that his antics flirted with criminality. He seems to have believed that he was a law unto himself.’
‘I did find that arousing,’ she confessed. ‘Everyone else in this town behaves like Geoffrey Hedley. They lead such dull, repetitive, uneventful lives. There was nothing uneventful about Alex, I can tell you.’
‘And yet he was prepared to reject that life in the end. Choosing to marry Miss Haslam was an act of renunciation.’
‘You’re wrong. Deep down, he’d always be a rebel.’
‘What do you think happened to him?’
She hunched her shoulders. ‘I honestly don’t know,’ she said. ‘I wish I did. I pray to God that you find out for us.’
Colbeck could see how moved she was. It was the first glimpse he’d had of what was underneath the carapace of coolness and easy charm behind which she sheltered. Caroline was as much a victim as Melissa Haslam. Invisible blood had been shed by both women.
‘We know that he had enemies,’ said Colbeck, ‘but who were his friends – apart from Mr Hedley, that is?’
‘Geoffrey was more than his friend. He worshipped Alex.’
‘What about Walter Vine?’
‘You have been busy, haven’t you?’ she observed.
‘We try to be thorough.’
‘Then you’ll know that Alex and Walter fell out, and can probably guess why. Until that happened, they’d been bosom friends. In fact, Walter was much more of a natural ally for him than Geoffrey could be.’
‘Yes, it’s a curious friendship. Mr Hedley seems to be a beacon of respectability whereas Mr Piper was not. Was it simply a case of the attraction of opposites?’
‘Alex led the kind of life that Geoffrey coveted but lacked the bravado to emulate.’
‘Mr Hedley had the restraints of his profession.’
‘Most of his restraints are self-imposed, Inspector.’
‘That may be so,’ said Colbeck, ‘but, to be candid, I’m more interested in you than in him. Did you ever meet Mr Piper’s parents?’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Was that deliberate?’
‘Not on my part,’ she replied. ‘I would’ve been happy to meet the archdeacon and his wife. Alex preferred to keep me away from them because the nature of our relationship might have scandalised them.’
‘Did it scandalise your parents?’
‘No, it didn’t, because they never understood how close we were. In their eyes, Alex was an agreeable suitor for their daughter. He was always on his best behaviour in their company. That’s why they were so shocked when he chose Melissa Haslam in preference to me. They felt that it was in the nature of a betrayal.’
‘I sensed their pain when I spoke to them.’
‘They’ll recover in time.’
‘And what about you, Miss Treadgold? Do you believe that you will recover in time?’
Her eyelids fluttered and she was at a loss for words.
Having sent a message to him, Lydia Quayle made sure that she was back at the house before Alan Hinton called. Madeleine told her what she’d learnt from her father about the stolen medal.
‘He polished it regularly?’ asked Lydia.
‘It was a kind of ritual.’
‘Why is it so important to him?’
‘It reminds him of a past he hasn’t really put behind him. Father still sees friends from the LNWR. It’s almost as if he’s still working alongside them.’
‘There’s no harm in that, Madeleine.’
‘I agree. I’m glad he keeps in touch with them.’
‘Friends are important.’
It was a wistful comment. Lydia had often compared her situation with that of Madeleine. At least the latter still had a parent alive. Lydia’s father had been murdered and her mother had died. Of the members of her family, only her younger brother was now in touch with her. The rest of them were still estranged.
The arrival of Alan Hinton prevented her from veering towards self-pity. She and Madeleine were grateful that he’d come so promptly and with such obvious enthusiasm to help. Retrieving the notebook, Madeleine read out the answers her father had given her. Though he listened carefully, Hinton’s gaze never left Lydia.
‘Did Mr Andrews name any of the people to whom he showed that medal?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ said Madeleine, ‘he gave me half a dozen names but there were other people who saw it as well. My father likes to meet his friends for a drink when they come off duty. There are usually fifteen or twenty people in that pub. He’s never been one to hide his light under a bushel,’ she went on with a smile. ‘When he first got his award, he showed it to everyone there.’
‘His friends wouldn’t steal from him, surely?’ said Lydia.
‘We don’t know that they were all friends,’ Hinton pointed out. ‘Seeing his achievement, some of those railwaymen might have been jealous.’
‘But would one of them actually break into his house?’
‘It’s possible.’
‘That would mean someone picked the lock on the front door,’ said Madeleine, ‘and had the skill to open a locked cupboard. How would he know where the medal was kept?’
‘Perhaps he’d seen your father take it out from the cupboard to show it to him. However,’ said Hinton, ‘we must not jump to any conclusions until we have more evidence. It may just be the work of a skilled burglar.’
‘That brings us back to the question that Father asked,’ said Madeleine. ‘Why take only that when there were other things of value in the house?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘What’s the next step?’ asked Lydia.
‘Well,’ said Hinton, thinking it over, ‘I’ll need to talk to Mr Andrews and get the names of friends who’ve been into the house and seen where he keeps that medal. Then I need to cast the net wider by finding out if anybody has been in there recently to do some work – a carpenter, perhaps, or a builder.’
‘Father didn’t mention anybody,’ said Madeleine, ‘but that means nothing. He freely admits that his mind is like a sieve sometimes. It may well be that the medal wasn’t stolen, after all, and that would make me feel that we’d wasted your time, Alan.’
‘Oh, it won’t have been wasted, I assure you.’
He exchanged a meaningful glance with Lydia.
Still seated in the lounge at the hotel, Leeming opened his pad and studied the notes he’d made on the case. Having already amassed a sizeable amount of information, he knew that he’d have to ferret out far more before their work was done. When he was joined by Colbeck, he registered his complaint at once.
‘I’d hoped to be back in London in time to light a bonfire for my children on November 5th.’
‘There’s no earthly chance of that happening, Victor.’
‘I’m terrified we’ll still be here by Christmas.’
‘If it’s necessary,’ said Colbeck, ‘we’ll be here into the new year – though I certainly don’t anticipate it.’
‘I’ll need a new notebook at this rate.’
‘Good – that’s a sign of progress.’
‘Most of what I’ve learnt is irrelevant.’
‘No, it isn’t. Every time you’ve spoken to someone new, you’ve discovered additional details of what life is like in this part of the world.’
‘It’s a lot different from the way we live, sir.’
‘That’s why we have to get inside the minds of the local inhabitants and see the Lake District as they do. For instance, they’re far more likely to believe in ghosts and phantoms than Londoners.’
‘I discovered t
hat from dipping into the book Tiller gave me. According to that, there are weird things going on all over the county.’
‘We’ll discuss them over dinner.’
‘I can’t wait for that,’ said Leeming. ‘I seem to have been on my feet all day. I’ve been looking forward to a good meal, plenty of beer and an early night.’
‘You’ll certainly get the food and drink, Victor, but you must forget the early night.’
‘Why? I’m exhausted.’
‘We both are,’ said Colbeck, ‘but duty comes first. Before we can retire to our beds, we must make the effort to visit Hither Wood at midnight. It’s there that the story of Alexander Piper’s disappearance really began.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
When he heard the details of another day of failed searches, even Lord Culverhouse found it difficult to maintain the belief that his nephew was still alive, albeit too dazed to know who or where he was. Geoffrey Hedley had called at Culverhouse Court to pass on the grim tidings. He apologised profusely for the lack of success.
‘You might as well call off the search,’ decided the old man. ‘Alex is simply not there.’
‘I don’t like the idea of giving up, Lord Culverhouse.’
‘We’re not doing that,’ said the other. ‘We’re handing over to detectives who are experienced at solving crimes because that’s what we obviously have here – a ghastly crime.’
‘I accept that now,’ said Hedley.
‘Alex’s body is out there somewhere. I’m relying on Colbeck to find it for us so that we can get to the truth of this whole affair. My sister must be in despair.’
‘Everyone who loved Alex feels the same.’
‘If only he hadn’t devised that lunatic scheme about the Phantom Special!’ He turned on his visitor. ‘Didn’t you tell me that it was your idea originally?’
‘I’m ashamed to admit that it was.’
Fear on the Phantom Special Page 11