‘I hope you haven’t come to speak to Mrs Doel,’ she said. ‘She’s asleep at the moment. I’d rather she wasn’t awakened.’
‘It’s her brother we came to see, Mrs Withers, but I’d also like to ask you a few questions as well.’
She stood back so that they could step inside, closing the door after them. Leeming’s unbecoming features troubled her slightly so she kept her eyes fixed on Colbeck.
‘How can I help you, sir?’ she asked.
‘Before he left this house for the last time,’ Colbeck said, ‘the colonel told you he was taking a train to Doncaster.’
‘That’s correct.’
‘Had he ever done that before?’
‘I can’t remember him doing so, Inspector.’
‘Did he say why he was travelling to Doncaster?’
‘But he wasn’t,’ she pointed out. ‘That was only an excuse. As we know, he didn’t catch the train at all.’
‘Not on that occasion, I agree. Think of others. When he went somewhere by rail, did he always tell you what his destination was?’
‘No, sir, the colonel didn’t. All I knew was the time when he was likely to return so that everything was ready for him. He only told me what I needed to know.’
‘So the mention of Doncaster was unusual?’
‘It was very unusual. I’d have been less surprised if he’d said he was going to York or somewhere like that. But, then, it wasn’t my place to question his movements.’
‘I suppose not,’ said Colbeck. ‘Does the name Michael Bruntcliffe mean anything to you?’
Her face clouded. ‘Yes, it does.’
‘Well?’
‘The colonel spoke harshly about him.’
‘Did you ever see Bruntcliffe here?’
‘Only the once, Inspector,’ she replied. ‘It was years ago when the colonel and Mrs Tarleton were in Sussex. Young Mr Tarleton was still here then. I kept out of their way.’
‘How would you describe Bruntcliffe?’ asked Leeming.
‘He seemed a personable young man,’ she said, trying to recall an image in her mind. ‘Some might call him handsome. He was tall and well dressed. Oh, and he had long, black hair that curled at the ends. That’s all I can say, really.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Withers,’ said Colbeck. ‘We’re really here to see young Mr Tarleton. I assume that he’s at home.’
‘He is now, Inspector. He was out riding all afternoon and came back a short while ago. I’ll take you to him now.’ She looked sheepish. ‘I had to give him the key, sir. He’s the master now.’
Expecting to be conducted to the drawing room or the library, the visitors were instead taken to the room where the firearms were kept. The housekeeper knocked, entered, then explained to Tarleton that the detectives wished to speak to him. She retreated before she was told to leave. Colbeck introduced Leeming, who was agog at the weaponry that had been amassed. Tarleton was holding the Purdey shotgun with his stepfather’s initials carved into the stock. He replaced it in the cabinet.
‘That was the colonel’s favourite,’ observed Colbeck. ‘Did you intend to go out shooting?’
‘No,’ said Tarleton. ‘I was just wondering how much money it would fetch. A tidy amount, I hope.’
‘Are you thinking of selling it, sir?’
‘Well, I can hardly keep everything here, can I? What use is it to me when I go back to London? I’ll have to get it valued.’
‘I think you should wait before you do that, sir,’ said Leeming, surprised that Tarleton was not in mourning apparel. ‘The will has to be read first. You have to be sure that these items are yours to sell.’
‘Well, they’d hardly be left to my sister, would they?’
‘The sergeant makes a valid point,’ said Colbeck. ‘Since your stepfather wouldn’t even let you handle the firearms, he might have left them to one of the friends who joined him on shooting parties.’
Tarleton scowled. ‘He might have done just that,’ he said, stung by the notion, ‘if only out of spite. If that’s the case, I’ll contest the will. All this is mine.’
‘Be that as it may, sir. Now, would you rather we had this conversation in the drawing room or are you happy to talk to us here?’
‘This is as good a place as any, Inspector.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ said Leeming under his breath, gazing at a pike and imagining the fearful wounds it could inflict. Aloud, he said, ‘You saw very little of your parents in recent times, I believe, sir.’
‘My mother was my only living parent,’ corrected Tarleton. ‘I could never accept the colonel as my father. As it was, I drifted apart from both of them in the end.’
‘So you loved your mother and resented your stepfather?’
‘It was rather more complicated than that, Sergeant, and I’ve no intention of explaining why.’
‘That’s your privilege, Mr Tarleton.’
‘If you loved your mother,’ said Colbeck, ‘why didn’t you join the search for her when she went missing?’
‘I had no idea that she’d gone astray,’ said Tarleton. ‘I told you. We’d lost touch. I was trying to make my own way in life.’
‘Had you lost touch with your sister as well?’
‘Not to the same extent.’
‘Didn’t she contact you about your mother’s disappearance?’
‘Eve wrote to my last known address but I’d moved twice since then. The first time I heard about Mother vanishing was when I read a newspaper report about my stepfather’s suicide.’
‘What did you do then, sir?’
‘I got in touch with my sister, of course. When I heard that Eve’s husband was abroad,’ said Tarleton, donning the mantle of a caring brother, ‘I went to her house to comfort her then brought her here.’ He became protective. ‘If you’re hoping to speak to her, you’re out of luck. I’m afraid that I can’t allow it. She needs time to mourn.’
‘You don’t seem to share that need, sir,’ said Leeming.
‘Each of us is dealing with the catastrophe in our own way.’
‘Yours involved going for a ride, we’re told.’
Tarleton was angry. ‘Is there any law against that, Sergeant?’ he asked. ‘If you must know, I went to the rectory to make our views known with regard to the two funerals. The rector is trying to stop my stepfather from being buried in the churchyard.’
‘Yes,’ said Colbeck. ‘I had an argument with him over that.’
‘I wasn’t prepared to argue. I simply stated our demand.’
‘There may be wrangling ahead, sir. The rector has an obsession about death by suicide. My advice is to go over his head and appeal to the archbishop. You’ll surely get his support.’
‘I want the bodies buried as soon as the second inquest is over. It’s frustrating to have an obstacle like this thrown in our way by Mr Skelton. Where’s his Christian forgiveness? He knows the verdict reached at the inquest. Our stepfather’s mind was unbalanced. Why can’t the rector accept that and show some compassion?’
‘Because he has another reservation,’ said Colbeck. ‘In the short time that I spent with the reverend gentleman, one thing became crystal clear. He’s convinced that the colonel killed your mother. It’s a secondary reason for denying him a place in the churchyard. When we catch the real killer, of course, that excuse will disappear.’
‘Do you have any suspects?’
‘We do, as a matter of fact. One of them is an old friend of yours, as it happens – Michael Bruntcliffe.’
‘Michael is no killer,’ snapped Tarleton.
‘He was furious when your stepfather sent him to prison.’
‘That doesn’t mean he’d commit murder. He does have a vengeful streak, I grant you, but it would express itself in very different ways.’
‘Can you give us an example, sir?’
‘Well, there was the business with that farmer years ago. When he prosecuted Michael for trespass, there was a hefty fine to pay. That irked Michael. He got his revenge by opening a gate at night and letting the farmer’s sheep wander off.’
‘Was he ever taken to court for that?’ asked Leeming.
‘No – they had no proof. But you take my point. If Michael wanted to get back at someone, there was always a touch of humour in what he did.’