‘You’ll have to ask him.’
Because of the way he simply let his hair and beard grow wild, Norman Tiller only ever saw the barber at meetings of the poetry group. He made an exception that morning. Going to Garside’s shop, he submitted to a light trim in order to have a conversation with his friend.
‘What else did Sergeant Leeming ask you?’ he said.
‘He wanted to know more about you, Norm.’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘I said that you were the best poet in the county and made the rest of us look like the raw beginners we really are.’
‘Don’t be so modest, Reg. All of you have got talent. It’s something you can build on. You’ve worked hard to get better. Whenever I read a new poem of yours, I can see clear signs of improvement.’
‘Thank you,’ said Garside, snipping away. ‘It means such a lot to me to hear you say that.’
‘Tell me more about the sergeant.’
‘He was so keen to read your poems – especially that one about Gregor Hayes. He even copied out some of it.’
‘Why did he do that?’ asked Tiller, warily.
‘He liked it.’
‘Did he say anything about me that wasn’t to do with poetry? For instance, did he mention my family?’
‘He said he was touched by the way you cared for your brother because David can’t look after himself.’
‘What else did he say?’ Garside looked blank. ‘Can’t you remember?’
‘I must have spoken to twenty or more customers since the sergeant was here. Everybody loves to have a chat when they’re in my chair. You can’t expect me to remember what this one or that one said to me.’
‘Maybe not, but Sergeant Leeming wasn’t a customer. He came here to get information about me.’
‘That’s right. He asked about our meeting at the King’s Arms – the one when Mr Piper interrupted us.’
‘I don’t need reminding of that, Reg.’
‘He had no right to say those things about you.’
‘Forget Piper,’ said Tiller, face hardening. ‘He won’t be able to do that again.’
‘Whatever happened to him, he deserved it.’
‘How long did the sergeant stay?’
‘Oh, he was here for quite a time. While I was seeing to customers, he was reading your poems. The one about Gregor Hayes interested him. What puzzled him was the way you sort of became the phantom so that you could tell the story from a different angle.’ He paused to admire his handiwork. ‘How does that look?’
Tiller stared at himself in the mirror for a few seconds.
‘Keep talking about Sergeant Leeming,’ he said.
Returning to his office, Geoffrey Hedley simply wanted to relax and reflect on the progress of the investigation but his sense of duty compelled him to work instead. Since he was known for his efficiency, he didn’t wish to give any of his clients cause for complaint. Concentration was vital. To that end, he’d told his clerk that he was not available to random visitors. He was therefore irked when the man came into the office and told him that someone was anxious to speak to him.
‘I want no interruptions,’ said Hedley, peevishly. ‘Ask the client to make an appointment. Tell him that I’m indisposed.’
‘It’s a lady, sir.’
‘Then give the same message to her.’
‘Miss Treadgold said that she’d be prepared to wait indefinitely until you could find time for her.’
‘Miss Treadgold?’ repeated Hedley, his manner changing instantly. ‘That’s different. Show her in at once.’
When Caroline was escorted to the room, the lawyer was on his feet to welcome her. He held the back of the chair as she settled into it, then returned to his own seat behind the desk.
‘I wasn’t expecting you,’ he said. ‘Is it a legal matter?’
‘No, it’s a personal one.’
‘Then I’m all ears.’
She was hesitant. ‘It’s … rather embarrassing.’
‘We’re friends, aren’t we? There’s no need for any embarrassment between us. You can speak freely, Caroline. I’m very discreet.’
‘Yes, I know that.’
‘Is it something to do with Alex?’ She nodded. ‘I’ll be happy to help you in any way.’
‘Have you been able to go through any letters of his?’
‘Of course I have. It was one of the first things I did after the excursion. I thought that I might find evidence of threats against him that could lead us to the person behind Alex’s strange disappearance.’
‘Did you find that evidence?’
‘Unfortunately, I didn’t.’
‘What about his … private correspondence?’
‘There was a bundle of letters but, since they had no connection with what happened on the Phantom Special, I didn’t bother to read them.’
‘Were any of them sent from me?’
‘No, they weren’t.’
‘Are you quite sure?’
‘I’d know your handwriting anywhere, Caroline.’
She was at once relieved and hurt, glad that her billets-doux had not been read by a third person yet wounded by the realisation that Piper must have destroyed them. For her part, she’d kept every scrap of correspondence from him, even though it was full of what had turned out to be false promises.
‘Can I offer you refreshment?’ asked Hedley.
‘No, thank you.’
‘It may be that your letters are still there but not with the bulk of his correspondence. Since I have a key to the house, you’re welcome to institute a search of your own.’
‘Well …’
‘I’ll come with you, if you wish.’
‘That won’t be necessary. Alex didn’t keep my letters.’
It was not the only consideration. Caroline was fearful of stumbling on the letters sent to him by Melissa Haslam. He’d certainly have treasured those.
‘Thank you for putting my mind at rest,’ she said, rising to her feet. ‘I’m sorry to have disturbed you.’
‘It was a pleasure to see you, Caroline.’
‘Goodbye.’
He got to the door first so that he could open it for her then savoured the brush of her shoulder against him. Once she’d left, Hedley locked the door behind her and went across to the safe hidden behind a bookcase that hinged outwards when he pulled it. After opening the safe, he took out some letters held together by a blue ribbon and went back to his seat. Undoing the ribbon, he read one of Caroline’s letters. The combination of elegant calligraphy and surging passion was almost giddying.
Hedley wished that she had written to him.
Time was against them. In the ten years since the blacksmith had vanished from Hither Wood, it had changed. Trees and vegetation had died and been supplanted by new growth. Areas that had been easily accessible were now hidden by bushes or carpeted by thick ground cover. The detectives searched as thoroughly as they could, but it was to no avail. Leeming was perspiring freely.
‘How much longer must we do this, sir?’ he protested.
‘I thought that you always enjoyed physical exercise.’
‘I do if it has a point.’
‘The point is to find evidence.’
‘Then we should have brought a spade or a fork.’
‘There was no need for that,’ said Colbeck. ‘Once I’d sharpened them, these sticks have been able to go six inches or more into the ground. What I’m looking for will not be much deeper than that.’
‘I’m afraid that the cab driver will get bored and drive off. We’ll be stranded here yet again.’
‘No, we won’t. We could easily manage a walk to the railway station. However, I don’t think it will be needed. Our driver knows that he’ll be well paid for the time he’s spent with us. If you’re worried about him, why don’t you go and tell him that we’ll be finished very soon?’
‘I’ll go at once,’ said Leeming, using a handkerchief to mop his face. ‘Shall I take my coat an
d hat?’
‘Yes, Victor. I’ll join you in five or ten minutes.’
‘I’ll hold you to that.’
As Leeming walked away, Colbeck took out the diagram once again and consulted it. He looked around in every direction, then came to a decision. His stick was soon being jabbed hard into the ground once more.
Lost in thought, Rodney and Emma Piper sat on the sofa beside each other in the drawing room. It was minutes before he came out of his reverie to break the silence.
‘I do apologise, my dear,’ he said. ‘It was very rude of me to drift off like that.’
‘I did exactly the same, Rodney. We both have so much on our minds.’
‘I was thinking about Alex.’
‘So was I.’
‘Where did we go wrong, Emma? How did we transform a well-behaved young man like our son into a rebel?’
‘It was just a phase. And he didn’t turn away from God.’
‘That’s the one crumb of comfort.’
‘I’m sure that he’d have grown up to be a caring husband to Melissa and a good father. He was on the brink of a new life.’
‘Death always strikes at inconvenient times.’
She bit her lip. ‘Why is Inspector Colbeck taking so long?’
‘It’s because he’s very thorough.’
‘He must have some idea by now of what happened.’
‘I’m sure that he does,’ said her husband, ‘but he’s wise enough to keep his thoughts to himself until he has absolute proof.’
‘I get the feeling that my brother is starting to lose faith in him. That’s very worrying.’
‘Does he say why he’s having doubts?’
‘I daren’t ask him.’
‘Patience was never one of his virtues. When your brother cracks the whip, he expects immediate results. In a situation like this, it’s an impossible demand.’
‘So what must we do, Rodney?’
‘Watch and pray, my dear.’
Taking her hand in his own, he squeezed it gently.
Though his wound was slowly healing, Walter Vine still found it too painful to ride his horse. Bouncing up and down in the saddle set off shafts of agony in his arm. When he went out that morning, therefore, he travelled in a curricle and controlled the horse with one hand on the reins. To avoid being jostled, he maintained a moderate speed. For a keen horseman like him, the pace felt almost funereal.
Following the instructions he’d been given, he kept going until the road ran parallel with the railway line. As he maintained the same comfortable speed, he was soon overtaken by a train that shot past him so close and so fast that it frightened his horse and forced him to pull the animal to a halt. Once it had calmed down, he pushed on until he reached his destination. Vine took a long, satisfied look around.
‘So this is where you disappeared, is it, Alex?’ he said with a grin. ‘I ought to mark the spot with a statue.’
When he finally returned to the cab, he found Leeming waiting for him with his arms folded and his face masked by a scowl. Colbeck made a gesture of apology.
‘You said you’d be five or ten minutes,’ complained Leeming.
‘I got carried away, Victor.’
‘You’ve been over half an hour.’
‘Have I?’ asked Colbeck in surprise. ‘I can’t believe that.’
‘What kept you so long?’
‘It was the feeling that, sooner or later, my luck would change and I’d find something.’
‘There was nothing to find.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong.’
‘What do you mean, sir?’
‘Blind faith kept me going,’ said Colbeck. ‘When I looked at the diagram again, I shifted my interest to a different area.’
‘And what did you actually find?’
‘It was this.’
Colbeck held up an object and flicked the remaining specks of dirt off it. Leeming’s jaw dropped in surprise.
‘There now,’ said Colbeck with a smile. ‘Wasn’t it worth the effort to find this?’
When he’d finished shopping at the market, Caleb Andrews walked back home with a full basket. He was still smarting over his defeat on the cribbage board. As soon as he’d delivered his groceries to the house, therefore, he went straight across the road and demanded a game against his rival. Initially reluctant, Kingston changed his mind when a small wager was mentioned. He and Andrews sat down at the table beside the window and prepared to do battle on the cribbage board.
‘I know where I went wrong yesterday,’ said Andrews.
‘Yes – you played against me.’
‘I felt sorry for you, Alf. It wasn’t you that won those games. It was that broken leg of yours.’
‘Well, I’ve still got it.’
‘It won’t work twice. I’ve got no pity left for you.’
‘How many games are we going to play?’
‘I can only stay an hour or so because I need to have my lunch before Maddy arrives. We’re going to hunt for that thief.’
‘What about your detective from Scotland Yard?’
‘We don’t need him,’ said Andrews, airily. ‘It’s something we can handle ourselves. And by the way, I know who called at my house the other day when you were acting as my sentry. It wasn’t a thief. It was an old friend of mine who happened to be passing and thought he’d call in. I met him at the market so that’s one little mystery solved.’ He picked up the cards. ‘Shall I deal?’
‘If you want to, go ahead. It doesn’t matter which of us deals the cards, Caleb. I’ll end up winning again.’
‘Don’t be so sure. My brain is buzzing this morning.’
Andrews shuffled and dealt the cards.
Back in Birthwaite, they first went to the livery stable to ask if anyone had hired a horse that morning. The owner told them that he’d had no customers so far that day. Mystified, they went off to catch the train. On the journey back to Kendal, they were able to discuss the significance of the horseshoe Colbeck had found. While he was optimistic, his companion was no longer as excited as he had been when he’d first seen it.
‘It may have no connection at all with the blacksmith,’ Leeming said. ‘Lots of horses must have been ridden into that clearing in the course of the last ten years. One of them could have lost a shoe there and the grass grew over it.’
‘It’s highly unlikely.’
‘Why?’
‘I found it in a place where horses were unlikely to go, Victor. It was a few inches below ground and close to a tree.’
‘How do you think it got there?’
‘I believe it was a marker.’
‘What sort of marker?’
‘I won’t know until we can do some digging.’
‘There’s no need for us to get hot and dirty,’ said Leeming. ‘Sergeant Ainsley offered us the use of a couple of men. Let them get busy with their spades.’
‘No, Victor, I don’t want anyone else to know what I found. If Ainsley and his men are told, word will quickly spread and might reach the ears of the person we’re after. That will put him on the defensive,’ said Colbeck, ‘or even frighten him into making a run for it.’
‘Do we simply keep quiet about the horseshoe?’
‘Yes – and we hope that it brings us luck.’
Arriving back in Kendal, they went straight to the police station and gave a plausible excuse for their absence. Ainsley warned them that Lord Culverhouse had become restive and was enraged by the news that they appeared to be giving the search for Gregor Hayes priority over the hunt for Alexander Piper.
‘That’s His Lordship’s criticism,’ said Ainsley, ‘and not mine. If you can find out what happened to Gregor, I’d be very grateful. Doing that is far more important in my book than tracking down a despicable hothead like Piper.’
Colbeck decided that, before anything else, he had to calm Lord Culverhouse down. They had, after all, been summoned to Kendal by him. Leeming was dispatched to make another call at the booksh
op so that he could question Tiller once more. After the physical effort he’d put in that morning, Leeming found it a restful assignment. The two detectives went off in opposite directions.
Lord Culverhouse was in his study when the sound of an approaching cab made him look out of the window. As soon as he saw Colbeck, he went striding off to open the front door himself. He glowered at his visitor.
‘Ah, so you’ve remembered us at last,’ he said, tartly.
‘You are never out of my thoughts, my lord.’
‘Neither, I’m told, is a long-dead blacksmith.’
‘I can explain that,’ said Colbeck. ‘Might I suggest that I can do it best from the comfort of a chair?’
‘Very well,’ grunted the other.
Colbeck followed him into the house and along the passageway to the study. When the inspector sat down, Lord Culverhouse remained on his feet to hover over him like a menacing black cloud.
‘What’s all this nonsense about Hayes?’ he demanded.
‘I believe that his fate is relevant to our investigation.’
‘That’s patently ridiculous.’
‘Is it, my lord?’
‘Gregor Hayes was an excrescence,’ said Culverhouse. ‘I know that to my cost.’
‘Do you?’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘May I ask why?’
‘He dallied with one of my maidservants and left her with child. I had to get rid of the poor girl, but I did provide for her. If it had been left to me,’ he growled, ‘the blacksmith would have been strung up from the nearest tree.’
‘For a Lord Lieutenant,’ observed Colbeck, ‘you have a somewhat primitive attitude to the rule of law.’
‘Hayes had no compunction even though the girl must have been fifteen or twenty years younger than him.’
‘Did he confess his guilt?’
‘No – he denied it hotly.’
‘What about the girl?’
‘She mentioned his name at first then withdrew it and swore that it had been someone else.’
Fear on the Phantom Special Page 22