Hedley blanched. ‘You’re being very impertinent.’
‘It’s in the nature of my profession.’
‘Then the answer is this,’ said Hedley, irritably, ‘Alex had no talent whatsoever for organisation. That’s why he left everything to me.’
‘Yet he organised the excursion at Hallowe’en,’ recalled Colbeck. ‘Why didn’t he delegate that task to you?’
There was a long pause. Though Hedley tried to hide his exasperation, it still showed through. When he asked a question, it came out like a bullet from a gun.
‘Why did you come here?’ he demanded.
‘It was because you said that you’d be available at all times. Evidently, that’s not true.’
‘My offer was limited to Alex’s case. All you want to do is to talk about a blacksmith’s sexual peccadilloes.’
‘They might yet be relevant.’
‘I can’t see how.’
‘Neither can I,’ confessed Colbeck, ‘but my instincts have been aroused. Do you know a man named Norman Tiller?’
‘Yes, I do. I’ve bought books from his shop.’
‘He thinks that the disappearance of your friend was a supernatural event that has no rational explanation. I disagree. In my opinion, it was the result of ingenious planning.’
‘Then please find out who was responsible for it.’
‘I will – in time.’
Colbeck met his gaze and held it for a long time. He was pleased when the lawyer eventually turned aside with a gesture of petulance. Colbeck smiled.
‘Let’s start again, Mr Hedley, shall we?’
After taking refreshment back at the house, they hailed a cab and set off to confess to Caleb Andrews that they’d failed in their attempt to find the thief. Madeleine knew that her father would be furious and – even though he’d sought her help – accuse her of interference. Lydia tried to console her.
‘You did your best, Madeleine.’
‘It was so embarrassing.’
‘That’s not your fault.’
‘Yes, it is, Lydia. I was overconfident. It’s not just my father who’ll look askance at me. What about Alan Hinton? And then there’s Robert, of course.’
‘Alan won’t blame you and neither will Robert.’
‘I wonder.’
When the cab had deposited them outside the house, it was driven away, allowing the two passengers to be visible. Before she could knock on the door, Madeleine heard a sound behind her. She turned to see that Kingston, in the house opposite, was rapping on the window. Madeleine went across the road. With some difficulty, Kingston lifted the sash window to speak to her.
‘Caleb is not there at the moment,’ he said.
‘That’s all right, Mr Kingston. I’ll get the key from Mrs Garrity.’
‘I’d like to speak to you first, please. Why don’t you and your friend come in for a few minutes? I won’t keep you long.’
‘Oh,’ said Madeleine. ‘As you wish …’
Leeming had been at it for hours now. His back was aching, his shoulder in agony and his mouth dry. Because there’d been rain during the night, the ground had been softened, making his task marginally easier, but there was a disadvantage. The knees of his trousers were now covered in mud and his hands were filthy. He was grateful that he wasn’t wearing his usual apparel. It would have been highly unsuitable for the task in hand.
Tempted once again to give up, he looked down at the horseshoe for inspiration. Colbeck had found it a mere six inches below the ground and had instructed Leeming to go no deeper than twice that amount. After rubbing his shoulder again, the sergeant returned to his work, but he was no longer as hopeful as he had been. He was now digging in a half-hearted manner, turning the soil over and seeing another array of worms wriggling beneath it. It was so demoralising that Leeming was on the point of losing faith in the enterprise.
Then the trowel clinked against something.
Putting pressure on Geoffrey Hedley had paid dividends. He told Colbeck far more about Alexander Piper’s life than he’d hitherto been prepared to do, and it was clear that his hero worship of his friend was shot through with envy. Though he denied it, the lawyer had patently tired of being exploited by his friend. Something else irked him. Caroline Treadgold had been put aside in favour of Piper’s new love, but she’d still remained out of reach of Hedley.
‘When we first arrived here,’ said Colbeck, ‘you named four possible suspects.’
‘I never believed that Miss Treadgold could be involved.’
‘It was conceivable that other people would. Like you, I’ve exempted her from blame. That leaves three people. Have you had time to consider each of them more carefully?’
‘Yes, I have,’ said Hedley.
‘Whom would you single out – Walter Vine?’
‘I’m not sure that he’d have the courage.’
‘What about Dr Dymock?’
‘He’d have the motive and the money that’d be needed. However,’ said Hedley, ‘I think he’d be held back by a consideration that would never occur to Vine.’
‘And what’s that, Mr Hedley?’
‘In arranging Alex’s death, he’d be ruining Miss Haslam’s life. Dymock’s awareness of consequences might have made him stay his hand.’
‘Wouldn’t that same thought pass through Mr Tiller’s mind?’
‘No,’ replied Hedley. ‘Of the three of them, he’s the one who suffered most. I was there when Alex tore his work to shreds in front of Tiller’s friends. It was brutal. I recall the look in Tiller’s eye. The man was in agony, forced to watch his beloved poems being dismembered.’
It was years since Madeleine had been inside their house and she’d forgotten how it smelt in equal parts of damp, decay and fried food. When Lydia followed her in, she recoiled slightly. Seated in his chair with his leg up on a stool, Kingston gave them a muted welcome. He seemed embarrassed.
‘My wife has something to tell you,’ he said.
Head down, Nan Kingston shuffled out of the kitchen.
On the train journey back, Leeming was divided between elation and fatigue. Certain that he’d made a significant find, he was too weary to understand fully what it might portend. It was not long before he surrendered to exhaustion and fell asleep. He was awakened by the clamour and discomfort as the train juddered to a halt in Kendal Station. Eager to find Colbeck as quickly as possible, he was amazed to see the inspector striding towards him along the platform.
‘Get back into the train, Victor,’ said Colbeck. ‘I’ve bought two tickets to Birthwaite.’
‘But I’ve just come back from there, sir.’
‘I’ve been waiting for you to do so. Let’s find a seat and you can tell me how you got on.’
He ushered Leeming into an empty compartment and they sat opposite each other. Colbeck could sense the other’s excitement and soon saw what had caused it. Taking out a handkerchief, Leeming opened it with the effulgent pride of a prospector revealing a cache of gold nuggets.
Colbeck stared at the remains of a human hand.
When she heard what the woman had to say, Madeleine took pity on her. She could see the effort that it had taken Nan Kingston to make her confession and how uncomfortable her husband had been when she did so.
‘I didn’t know about it until today,’ he explained. ‘What my wife did was wrong. She realised that in the end. Caleb has every right to call the police.’
‘It may not come to that,’ said Madeleine.
‘Your father has just returned,’ said Lydia, looking through the window. ‘He needs to hear what we’ve just been told.’
Nan Kingston quailed. ‘I can’t face him.’
‘You won’t have to,’ said Madeleine, soothingly. ‘I’ll handle this. I’m just glad that we now know the truth.’
Excusing themselves, the visitors went across the road. They were soon let into the house by Caleb Andrews. He was thrilled to see them.
‘You found out who did it, didn’t you
?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ said Madeleine, ‘we did.’
‘Give me his name.’
‘Father—’
‘Come on. I want to go straight to the police station to demand that he’s arrested. Losing that medal had caused me no end of misery. Now who is he?’
‘Nan Kingston.’
His jaw dropped. ‘Are you sure?’
‘She’s just admitted it to us,’ said Lydia.
‘And before you start threatening her with prison,’ added Madeleine, ‘let me tell you why she did it and how much she’s suffered as a result. It was your fault, Father. In her eyes, you have everything whereas her husband has nothing to be proud of. He was just an ordinary ticket collector while you were an engine driver who’d won an award. You kept boasting about it time and again.’
‘Well,’ he said, ‘wouldn’t you have done the same?’
‘No, I wouldn’t, Father.’
‘And you boasted about Madeleine as well,’ said Lydia. ‘You never stopped telling them that your wonderful daughter was married to a famous detective. It made them feel that they’d failed. Your daughter has been successful while their son can barely scrape a living.’
‘Nan Kingston was upset on her husband’s behalf,’ said Madeleine. ‘It was as if you were crowing over him all the time. With that broken leg of his, he has enough on his plate without being forced to listen to you telling him how successful you were. It was cruel of you, Father.’
‘It wasn’t meant to be.’
‘That’s how it felt to Nan Kingston, so she wanted to give you a shock. Once she took the medal, she said it was like having a red-hot stone in her hand. She felt so guilty and she was terrified that her husband would find out.’
‘In the end,’ said Lydia, taking up the story, ‘she slipped back when your cleaner was here and waited for a chance to put the medal in the cupboard. Since then, she’s been tortured by guilt.’
‘And it was all because of you,’ said Madeleine.
Andrews was humbled. ‘Was I really that bad?’
‘Yes, you were.’
‘Nan Kingston? I can’t believe it. I’d trust her completely. She’s such an honest woman.’
‘Yet she was driven to steal something from you. She’d have to be pushed to the limit to do that.’
‘Mrs Kingston wanted to come here to apologise,’ said Lydia, ‘but Madeleine stopped her from doing that.’
‘Maddy was quite right,’ decided Andrews. ‘I should be apologising to her and to Alf Kingston. I must have talked their ears off. I feel so ashamed.’
‘Tell them,’ suggested Madeleine.
‘I’ll be surprised if they let me into their house.’
‘Speak to them right now, Father. The longer you wait, the more difficult it will be. The matter has to be resolved or you’ll lose two good friends.’
Andrews nodded. Accepting that the fault lay on his side, he let himself out of the house and walked across the road. His daughter watched through the window and saw him being invited into their neighbours’ house. It was a start.
By the time the train set off again, they’d talked at length about the hand that Leeming had found in Hither Wood. Since the compartment had no other occupants, they were able to converse freely.
‘You still haven’t told me why we’re going back to Birthwaite,’ said Leeming.
‘It’s for your benefit, Victor. I thought you’d like to meet the man who attacked you last night.’
‘You know who he is?’
‘Not exactly,’ said Colbeck, ‘but I’ve discovered how to find him. I’ve been vexed by the fact that we were followed to Hither Wood when we last went there. How could someone possibly know that we were heading there?’
‘We weren’t followed. No horse had been hired from the livery stables at Birthwaite.’
‘It didn’t need to be. The man had his own mount.’
‘So how was he able to lie in wait for us?’
‘I finally worked out the answer,’ said Colbeck. ‘There’s a telegraph station at Birthwaite. He received a message from someone who saw us getting onto the train.’
‘Are you sure of that, sir?’
‘I’m absolutely sure. When I went to the telegraph office in Kendal, I noticed that information had been sent to the man on a daily basis. He must have arranged to pick it up every morning so that he knew what his orders were.’
‘Who was giving those orders?’ asked Leeming.
‘Work it out for yourself.’
As the sergeant began to speculate, the train surged on until it reached the point where Alexander Piper had vanished nights earlier. When he and Leeming had driven there at night, they’d been under observation. It was chilling to realise that they’d been totally unaware of it at the time. Leeming suddenly snapped his fingers. Light had dawned.
‘That’s the man,’ agreed Colbeck. ‘Let’s go and find his accomplice, shall we?’
‘Yes, please – I want to return his cosh.’
Saul Pugsley was working on the jetty, scraping off the hull of an upturned boat. He was a thickset man of medium height in his early forties. Matted dark hair was complemented by a full beard. When he heard footsteps behind him, he broke off and turned to see Colbeck standing there.
‘There’s no need to introduce myself, Mr Pugsley,’ said the inspector. ‘You know full well who I am.’
‘No, I don’t,’ grumbled the other.
‘You’ve been following me and Sergeant Leeming. There’s no point in denying it. When I went to the telegraph station in Kendal, I saw the messages that you sent. And I’ve just come from reading the ones you received at Birthwaite. You’re well known there, Mr Pugsley. They gave me your address. That’s what brought me to Windermere.’
‘What do you want?’
‘Ideally, I’d like to arrest you but, in the circumstances, I feel that that pleasure should be reserved for someone else.’ Leeming stepped into view from behind the boathouse. ‘You remember my sergeant, don’t you?’
‘You’ve got the wrong man,’ said Pugsley, defiantly. ‘I’ve never seen either of you before.’
‘Then let’s see if you remember this,’ said Colbeck, motioning Leeming forward. ‘Show him what you found today in Hither Wood, Sergeant.’
Coming closer, Leeming held out the handkerchief in which the bones were nestling. Pugsley shrank back at the sight.
‘I found it where you buried it,’ said Leeming.
‘He did that,’ whined Pugsley, ‘not me. I only cut the body up. He was the one who killed Gregor and buried the bits.’
‘Then the pair of you will hang side by side.’
Colbeck produced a pair of handcuffs from under his coat and handed them to Leeming. Pugsley had seen enough. He hurled the scraper he’d been using at Colbeck but only managed to dislodge his hat. Jumping off the jetty, Pugsley paddled frantically in the shallow water until he reached dry land. He did not get far. Enraged that the man was trying to escape, Leeming gave the handcuffs to Colbeck before going after the fugitive. After splashing through the water, he ran up a grassy bank and gave chase. Fury put extra speed into his legs.
Pugsley, by contrast, was already puffing and slowing down. There was no way that he could outrun Leeming. Deciding to fight instead, he turned around, only to be knocked flat as Leeming hurled himself with all the force he could muster. Straddled across him, he hit Pugsley with a relay of punches that took all the resistance out of him and left his face covered in blood. Leeming dragged the man to his feet.
‘We have a score to settle with you, Pugsley.’
‘I only did what I was told.’
‘I’m doing exactly what I was told,’ said Leeming, ‘and that’s to place you under arrest so that you can answer for the terrible things you did.’
‘He’s the person who should really take the blame.’
‘Oh, he will, I promise you.’
After taking a firm grip on the prisoner, Leeming marched h
im unceremoniously away.
When they’d returned to Kendal by train, they took Pugsley straight to the police station. Though Sergeant Ainsley was not there, Colbeck had a good idea where to find him and headed accordingly for the King’s Arms. Ainsley was just coming out of the front door. When he saw the inspector with his hands on his hips, he read the message clearly. Colbeck reinforced it by taking the horseshoe from his pocket and letting it drop to the floor with a clang. Ainsley turned white.
‘We’ve had an illuminating conversation with Pugsley,’ said Colbeck. ‘He told us how you arranged to murder the blacksmith and why that horseshoe was buried with him.’
‘The man was an animal!’ hissed Ainsley.
‘Then you should have let the law take its course.’
‘I wanted justice and I got it.’
‘Then you were no better than the man you killed.’
‘I used to laugh at those rumours about Gregor chasing various women. I never really believed them. Then I learnt the truth – under my own roof.’
‘Pugsley told us about your daughter.’
‘She was twelve years old – still only a child. How would you feel if you found that horseshoe under your daughter’s pillow as a love token? Gregor claimed to be my best friend, yet he did that to me. He wasn’t fit to stay alive.’
‘That’s why you tricked him into taking on that wager,’ said Colbeck, piecing the bits of evidence together. ‘You needed him alone and off guard. Hayes was to spend Hallowe’en in Hither Wood, not realising that you and Pugsley would be there as well. You were waiting to kill, dismember and bury him in the shallow graves you’d already prepared. It was ingenious and you got away with it for ten years, hiding your guilt by pretending to devote your life to the search for Hayes’s killer.’
Ainsley scowled. ‘How did you find out?’
‘The diagram of Hither Wood gave you away. You’d marked all the places that had, allegedly, already been searched. It was a device to keep me away from the area where the remains of Hayes had actually been scattered. I stumbled on the horseshoe first – then Sergeant Leeming found a hand.’
Fear on the Phantom Special Page 27