Fear on the Phantom Special

by Edward Marston

  Leeming’s first task that morning was to visit the police station where he learnt, to his surprise, that Lord Culverhouse had called off the search. Sergeant Ainsley approved of the decision. Leeming was there to study the records of the search for Gregor Hayes. They were locked in a cupboard in Ainsley’s office. Handing them over, he told his visitor that he was available for questioning about anything he might find as he reviewed the case. He then left Leeming alone. Even a cursory glance at the material told him that Ainsley had obviously been efficient. The records had been scrupulously kept in legible handwriting and revealed a man who’d led the police investigation with almost missionary zeal. He’d even included a diagram of Hither Wood with the areas that had been searched clearly marked.

  Leeming went through the case records and learnt many new and interesting details in the course of doing so. When he’d transferred the relevant information to his notepad, he went off to talk to the sergeant. He found Ainsley helping to manhandle an obstreperous prisoner into a cell. When the man was safely locked away, he kicked at the bars and issued a stream of expletives. Ainsley raised a warning fist to silence him and the prisoner retreated to the corner of the cell.

  ‘I’m sorry you had to hear such vile language, Sergeant,’ said Ainsley, ‘though I daresay you’re used to it.’

  Leeming nodded. ‘I’m afraid that I am.’

  ‘This man has a pretty wife and two lovely children. I’ve seen all four of them together in church. He’d never dare to swear like that in front of his family. And yet the moment he sees a police uniform …’

  ‘It pours out of him like so much vomit.’

  ‘Exactly – let’s go into my office, shall we?’

  They went back to the room and closed the door behind them. Referring to his notebook, Leeming asked a series of questions to clarify certain points in the records. Ainsley provided all the detail asked for and reiterated his belief that there was no real connection between the disappearances of the local blacksmith and Alexander Piper. Though he was not persuaded of that, Leeming pretended to agree. Obeying Colbeck’s instructions, he said nothing about their visit to Hither Wood at midnight.

  ‘I wonder if I can ask you about something else,’ he said. ‘I’ve met Mr Tiller a couple of times and he told me about an incident at the King’s Arms.’

  ‘Yes, he’s part of a group of poets that meets there.’

  ‘They had an intruder at their last meeting. You won’t need telling who it was. As a result, there was such a violent argument that the landlord had to send for you.’

  ‘I knew it was serious when that happened. Small as he is, Hugh Penrose can usually handle any trouble, but Norm Tiller was in a rage. Piper was goading him.’

  ‘That was cruel.’

  ‘He could be very cruel, Sergeant.’

  ‘The landlord said that, in the end, you broke up the argument. Piper was sent packing.’

  ‘That’s not quite what happened,’ said Ainsley. ‘First of all, I got them to stop shouting at each other then I had a quiet word in Piper’s ear.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I told him the one thing guaranteed to sober him.’

  ‘And what was that?’

  ‘I threatened to report the incident to Miss Haslam and he could see that I meant it. First of all, of course, he had to warn me that he could have me dismissed from the police force if he wished then he staggered out. If I hadn’t stopped him, he’d have been attacked by Norm Tiller and I’d have had to arrest him, one of gentlest men I’ve ever met.’

  ‘And did Piper try to get you forced out of office?’

  ‘No, thankfully,’ said Ainsley. ‘I arrived at the station next morning to find Mr Hedley waiting for me with the usual soft soap about his friend being the injured party and how it was better for all of us if the whole matter was quietly forgotten.’

  ‘He seems to have spent his entire life, running after Piper and cleaning up the mess he leaves behind him.’

  ‘When I told Hedley that an apology was in order, he said that Norm ought to give it as soon as possible.’

  ‘But the apology should have come from Piper.’

  ‘Getting it out of him would have been like getting blood from a stone. It simply never happened. Norm just wanted the whole thing forgotten. Even though it will be a tight squeeze, future meetings of the poets will be held at his house.’

  ‘What drove Piper to bait him like that?’

  ‘Envy, I expect. He was annoyed that Miss Haslam had bought a copy of Norm’s poems and said how good they were. In Piper’s eyes, Tiller is just a scruffy bookseller who barely makes enough money to survive. The idea that his future wife was so fond of the poems that she insisted he read them made Piper furious. He’d obviously heard that the poets used to meet at the King’s Arms, so he thought he’d have some fun at Tiller’s expense. You know the rest.’

  ‘How could he be so vindictive?’

  ‘It’s typical of his behaviour.’

  ‘But his father is a clergyman.’

  ‘That doesn’t hold him back,’ said Ainsley. ‘A few years ago, Piper came into a lot of money and started to flex his muscles. He left home, bought a house here and did exactly what he wanted. When he met Melissa Haslam, we hoped that he might turn over a new leaf and become a credit to Kendal instead of being a troublemaker. It never happened.’

  ‘Thank you, Sergeant,’ said Leeming. ‘You’ve been very helpful. And thank you for letting me see the records of that earlier case.’

  ‘There’s something that isn’t in the records, but which might be of interest to you.’

  ‘Oh, and what’s that?’

  ‘Tiller wrote a poem about Gregor’s disappearance.’

  ‘Why did he do that?’

  ‘Read it and you’ll find out.’

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Notwithstanding the consequences of a disturbed night, Emma Piper insisted on going to see her brother that morning. She and her husband were driven to Birthwaite and travelled on the train to Kendal. Neither of them stayed awake for the entirety of the journey. Even though they were troubled by aches and pains, they took it in turns to fall asleep. When they reached their destination, they took a cab to Culverhouse Court and were given an effusive welcome by Emma’s brother. When he’d summoned her, Lady Culverhouse, his tall, stately wife, came in to greet them, then took her sister-in-law off to the drawing room, leaving the two men together in the study.

  ‘Can I offer you anything, Rodney?’ asked Culverhouse.

  ‘No, thank you. We’ve had breakfast.’

  ‘You’re even thinner than on your last visit. Is my dear sister not looking after you properly? Is she trying to starve you to death?’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ said his brother-in-law. ‘I’m simply keeping to the vows of denial that I made.’

  ‘Well, at least sit down, man. You look exhausted.’

  ‘I am,’ confessed Piper, settling into a chair. ‘We had another bad night. Sleep is impossible when you have something of this scale on your mind.’

  ‘That’s true, Rodney. The body may weaken but the brain keeps whirring away. However, unless I’m mistaken, you came here for the latest news of the search, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, we did. We feel so detached from it all. I feel as if I should be out there now with everyone else.’

  ‘That’s no longer possible, I’m afraid. I’ve bowed to the inevitable and had the search teams sent home.’

  ‘You can’t do that!’ protested Piper.

  ‘The decision has already been made.’

  ‘Alex may still be out there somewhere.’

  ‘If he was, we’d have found him by now. They’ve looked into every nook and cranny.’

  ‘Then the search has to be widened.’

  ‘We’ve already covered miles,’ said Culverhouse. ‘I’ve had daily reports from Geoffrey Hedley. He’s made sure that every inch of the ground has been examined. There hasn’t been the slightes
t clue found that has any relation to Alex’s disappearance.’

  ‘What does Inspector Colbeck think?’

  ‘I haven’t spoken to him yet.’

  Piper was appalled. ‘You cancelled the search without his advice? That was very foolish.’

  ‘I’m sure that Colbeck will agree with me.’

  ‘It would have been simple courtesy to consult him first.’

  ‘He believes that Alex was the victim of a crime,’ said Culverhouse, ‘and is concentrating on the search for the person who committed that crime. Only when he is unmasked will we know the full truth.’

  ‘I must speak to the inspector again.’

  ‘Let him get on with his work, Rodney. I promised him a free hand and that’s what he must have. It’s wrong for us to put any pressure on him.’

  ‘I simply want to know what progress he’s made.’

  ‘It’s slow but steady.’

  ‘Alex is our son. We’re entitled to know how the investigation is going. There’s something else that troubles me. If I talk to Inspector Colbeck, I can discuss the symbolism of what happened at Hallowe’en.’

  ‘What symbolism?’

  ‘Alex disappeared when he ran through a wall of flame,’ said the other. ‘It’s almost as if someone arranged a descent into hell for him.’

  Caleb Andrews was a man of combative disposition. In spite of that, he’d been popular among most of his workmates on the railway and respected by the others. He had, he believed, no real enemies and yet someone had apparently disliked him so much that he’d deliberately stolen an item that had given Andrews intense pride. Whenever he was alone, he kept wondering who the thief could possibly be. Aware of her father’s obsessive concern, Madeleine tried to distract him as much as she could. When she was unable to spend time with him, she made sure that her daughter kept him occupied. In his role as a doting grandfather, Andrews almost forgot the stolen medal. He was nevertheless keenly aware of Madeleine’s strategy. In a quiet moment together, he thanked her.

  ‘I know what you’re doing, Maddy, and I’m grateful to you. But it never goes away, I’m afraid. Ever since I discovered the theft yesterday, it’s there all the time at the back of my mind.’

  ‘I understand that.’

  ‘Who could hate me that much?’

  ‘Don’t think that way, Father.’

  ‘It worries me.’

  ‘I still have hopes that the medal has been mislaid in the house. If we search together, we might actually find it.’

  ‘We’ve both looked everywhere, Maddy. It’s not there.’

  ‘The box it was kept in is.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘Why didn’t the thief take it with him? It’s the obvious thing to do. I’m wondering if you took it out of the cupboard to clean and forgot to put it back. Somehow it went astray but the box remained locked away.’

  Andrews frowned. ‘Am I really that forgetful?’

  ‘There’s only one way to find out,’ she said. ‘We go back to the house together and we search it side by side. I thought I’d looked everywhere yesterday, but I keep wondering if I missed one or two places.’

  ‘What about Alan Hinton?’

  ‘If we fail, we’ll hand over to him, though we must remember that he can only give his help now and then. If the superintendent knew what he was doing on our behalf, he’d be very angry. His detectives are deployed to solve serious crimes.’

  ‘This is a serious crime!’ shouted Andrews.

  ‘Yes, I know,’ said Madeleine, ‘but Alan has just finished dealing with a case of attempted arson and is now involved in an investigation of a bank robbery. To the superintendent, those crimes will seem far more important than the loss of your medal.’

  ‘Robert wouldn’t take that attitude.’

  ‘Unfortunately, he’s not here. Alan Hinton is and he’s kind enough to offer his help. Meanwhile,’ she went on, ‘you need have no fears about the house itself while Mr Kingston is keeping it under surveillance.’

  Alfred Kingston was an angular man in his late sixties with a broken leg that obliged him to move around with the help of crutches. Seated in the front window, he watched people come and go in both directions. On the table beside him were a pencil and a scrap of paper. A stocky man of middle height came into view and stopped directly opposite. He knocked on the door of Caleb Andrews’ house and waited. When there was no response, he knocked even harder then peered intently through the window. Deciding that there was nobody at home, he turned on his heel and walked away.

  After grabbing the pencil and jotting down a rough description of the man, Kingston took out the watch from his waistcoat pocket and made a note of the time.

  When he made the appointment to see the doctor, Colbeck didn’t mention that it was in connection with an investigation. Cecil Dymock was therefore expecting a new patient to walk in. After a polite handshake, he motioned his visitor to a chair.

  ‘What seems to be the trouble?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m very confused, Doctor.’

  ‘Have you had a bang on the head recently?’

  ‘I’ve had several,’ replied Colbeck, ‘and they’ve all been self-inflicted. The next stage will be tearing my hair out. My confusion arises from the fact that I’m the detective inspector leading an investigation into what could well turn out to be a case of murder and certain people in this town simply refuse to assist me. You are one of them, Doctor.’

  Dymock bristled. ‘I’ve already spoken to Sergeant Leeming about that.’

  ‘With respect, sir, you made a point of not speaking to him. When people do that, our natural assumption is that they have something to hide.’

  ‘That’s an outrageous accusation.’

  ‘Perhaps you’d explain why.’

  ‘Let me be frank. Alex Piper and I were neighbours. From the moment he moved in,’ said Dymock, ‘there was trouble. He claimed to own land that is patently mine, and held riotous parties in his house that went on into the small hours. With all that noise going on, my wife and I couldn’t sleep.’

  ‘Didn’t you complain?’

  ‘Yes – on several occasions.’

  ‘How did Mr Piper respond?’

  ‘He laughed in my face. When I went to the police, Sergeant Ainsley said that he’d have a quiet word with Piper but could not guarantee it would have any effect. Lord Culverhouse is Piper’s uncle. He casts a long shadow.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve met His Lordship.’

  ‘Then you’ll be aware of the power he yields here.’

  ‘Did you complain to him?’

  ‘I sent him a letter. He never replied.’

  ‘That must have been disappointing.’

  ‘It was insulting.’

  ‘I take it that Lord Culverhouse is not one of your patients.’

  ‘No, he isn’t,’ said Dymock.

  ‘So you had no leverage with him.’

  ‘I didn’t but his nephew certainly did.’

  ‘And he obviously used it to gain advantage over you. I can see how maddeningly unfair that must have seemed to you, Doctor, but it’s hardly a good enough reason to refuse even to discuss what happened to Alex Piper.’

  ‘Don’t wait for an expression of sympathy, Inspector, because it won’t be forthcoming.’

  ‘It was curiosity that I was hoping for, sir. Aren’t you interested to know what has happened to him?’

  ‘He’s gone for good and that makes me very happy.’

  ‘How do you know he’s gone for good?’

  ‘Well …’

  ‘You said it with such confidence that you must have information that we don’t. How did you come by it?’

  ‘I’m only saying what everybody else is.’

  ‘You were rejoicing in the fact,’ said Colbeck, ‘and it distresses me. A highly educated man like you should surely be able to put aside his prejudices and feel sorry for a family that’s in a state of anguish because they simply don’t know what happened to their son. Since y
ou seem to have privileged insight into the case, why don’t you put them – and me, for that matter − out of our misery by telling us the truth?’

  Dymock regarded him with a blend of dislike and caution. He could see that Colbeck couldn’t be sent on his way as easily as Leeming had been. Walking behind his desk, he sat down and thought for a few moments before he spoke.

  ‘You are right, Inspector,’ he conceded. ‘Perhaps I have adopted a vengeful position when impartiality is called for. I give you my word that I don’t know what happened to Piper. I’ve just assumed – as we all have – that some harm has come to him and that we may never discover what it was.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll discover what it was,’ said Colbeck, evenly. ‘I’ve already collected a lot of valuable evidence. Those involved in what is clearly a plot will all be brought to justice.’

  Dymock swallowed hard. ‘I wish you well.’

  ‘May I ask if Walter Vine is a patient of yours?’

  ‘That information is confidential.’

  ‘It also happens to be rather important. Are you aware of the penalty for refusing to help a police inquiry?’ Dymock’s face hardened. ‘It’s a simple question. Is he or isn’t he?’

  ‘He was at one time,’ admitted the other.

  ‘Why did he look for medical help elsewhere?’

  ‘Because I asked him to do so when I learnt that he took part in those deafening parties held in Piper’s house. As it happened, I very rarely saw Mr Vine. Most of the time, he was too young and healthy to need a doctor.’

  ‘He needs one at the moment,’ said Colbeck. ‘Do you have any idea who has replaced you?’

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘How did he react when you asked him to leave this practice?’

  ‘He pretended that he was about to leave in any case and made some stinging criticism of my work.’

  ‘That was very discourteous of him.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Dymock, ‘I caught sight of Vine a few days ago as he rode past me. He had his arm in a sling. I presumed that it was a riding injury of sorts. Half his life appears to be spent in the saddle.’ He pulled a face. ‘One can’t always choose one’s patients. In some cases, I have to stretch my tolerance to extremes. Walter Vine pushed it to breaking point.’