As Colbeck surged on with his frock coat flapping in the wind, Leeming was almost half a mile behind him. The gap between quarry and hunter slowly and inexorably closed. When it was down to forty yards, Bruntcliffe became desperate. Unable to outrun the pursuit, he opted for a different method of escape, wheeling his horse in a tight circle so that he headed straight at Colbeck. The inspector could see what the intention was. Bruntcliffe wanted to knock him from the saddle, take his horse by the reins and ride off with both animals. Slowing his mount with a sharp tug, Colbeck reacted instinctively. As the other man came at him with his whip raised, Colbeck slipped his feet from the stirrups and raised an arm to ward off the blow. The moment that Bruntcliffe struck, he was knocked from the saddle as Colbeck lunged across at him and tackled him around the waist. The two of them fell to the ground with a thud and rolled over on the grass, leaving the horses to run on without riders.
Both were dazed by the impact but Colbeck was the first to recover. Staggering to his feet, he took his captive by the collar and hauled him upright. Bruntcliffe was ready to fight. As his head cleared, he swung a fist drunkenly but it was easily parried. By way of retaliation, Colbeck punched him hard in the stomach then caught him with an uppercut on the chin. The resistance was over. Dazed by the blow, Bruntcliffe slumped to the ground. It gave Colbeck the time to examine the grass stains on his coat and trousers. As he hit the other man from the saddle, he’d also torn a sleeve open. That was irritating to a dandy like him. He was grateful that he’d collected a change of apparel during his short visit to London.
Bruntcliffe rubbed his bruised chin and looked up at him.
‘How did you know that it was me?’ he asked, sullenly.
‘You gave yourself away by bolting like that.’
‘What else was I supposed to do? Wait to be arrested? Adam told me that two detectives had come from London. When I saw the pair of you coming towards the cottage, I guessed who you might be.’
‘I am Inspector Colbeck,’ said the other, offering a hand and pulling him to his feet. ‘Michael Bruntcliffe, I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Miriam Tarleton.’
Bruntcliffe was staggered. ‘What did you say?’
‘I think you heard me clearly, sir.’
‘I had nothing whatsoever to do with the murder. I’ve never even met Adam’s mother. Why should I want to kill her?’
‘It was in order to get your revenge on the colonel.’
‘Ah,’ said Bruntcliffe, sourly, ‘that’s a different matter.’
‘Is that why you were running away?’ asked Colbeck, thinking about the incident in the churchyard. ‘You pulled down that cross last night, didn’t you?’
‘It was only because that venomous old bastard put it there.’
‘Didn’t you think of the offence it would cause?’
‘What about the offence the colonel caused me?’ rejoined Bruntcliffe. ‘Do you know what it’s like being locked up in prison for something that was simply a joke?’
‘You deserved the sentence you got,’ said Colbeck. ‘Painting out public signs could put people in danger. If they can’t read a warning, they can’t exercise caution.’ He grabbed him by the throat and pulled him close. ‘What else did you do to get your revenge on the colonel?’
‘I did nothing at all.’
‘I think you did, Mr Bruntcliffe. I think you sent him some of those evil letters he received. You wanted to goad and taunt him. You wanted to make him suffer, didn’t you?’ He tightened his grip until the other man spluttered. ‘Didn’t you?’
‘Yes,’ admitted Bruntcliffe, baring his teeth. ‘That’s exactly what I did. I wanted to torment him.’
‘Those letters helped to push him towards suicide.’
‘Then I’m glad I sent some of them.’
‘Let’s see if you still feel the same when we take you to court.’
‘I confess that I sent the letters and pulled down that cross, Inspector,’ said Bruntcliffe with gabbled sincerity, ‘but I swear, in the name of God, that I didn’t murder Adam’s mother. On the day that it happened, I wasn’t even in the county. I was in Lincoln. That’s the truth.’
He broke off as Leeming arrived, riding one horse and towing another by the rein. He had also collected Colbeck’s hat and handed it to him as he dismounted.
‘Thank you, Victor,’ said Colbeck, releasing his prisoner.
‘I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep up with you, sir.’
‘I managed without you this time. I’ve got a use for those handcuffs now,’ he went on, turning to Bruntcliffe. ‘This is Sergeant Leeming and he’d like you to hold out your wrists.’
Glowering at both of them, Bruntcliffe obeyed. Leeming snapped the handcuffs into place then gave a triumphant grin.
‘We’ve finally solved the murder,’ he said, happily, ‘and stopped Mr Tallis descending on us tomorrow.’
‘Don’t celebrate too soon,’ warned Colbeck. ‘This gentleman has admitted freely that he committed certain crimes but murder is not one of them. I’m inclined to believe him.’
Leeming was shaken. ‘But he was seen getting his blood money from Adam Tarleton.’
‘What blood money?’ demanded Bruntcliffe.
‘You were out riding with him. When you got close to his house, he handed over your payment. We have a witness.’
‘Then he must be half-blind. The only time I had money from Adam was when I came out of prison, and he was repaying a loan I’d made to him in the past. He’s a good friend and the only one to stand by me when I was locked up.’
‘So what did he give you that day?’ asked Leeming.
‘He gave me something better than money,’ replied Bruntcliffe with a smirk. ‘He gave me a letter of introduction to the lady who owns the cottage where I spent the last two nights. Adam told me that I’d be sure of a warm welcome there and I’ve no complaints. It was where he used to stay when he came back to Yorkshire without telling his mother or his stepfather.’ He pointed in the direction of the cottage. ‘Ask the lady, if you don’t believe me.’
‘We will, sir,’ said Colbeck.
‘One thing I must stress. She didn’t know she was harbouring a petty criminal. She’s completely innocent.’
‘I question that,’ said Leeming, shocked by what he’d heard. ‘If the lady can permit herself to be passed so easily from one man to another, then her innocence is in grave doubt.’
‘We’ll talk to her before we leave,’ decided Colbeck. ‘Meanwhile, there’s another job for you to do, Victor. Since you have such a talent for rounding up loose horses, perhaps you’d be so good as to catch that one.’
He indicated the horse that he’d been riding earlier. Having shed Colbeck, the animal had run on for a couple of minutes before jumping over a dry stone wall and slowing to a halt. It was now cropping the grass unconcernedly in the middle of a flock of sheep. Leeming studied them with misgiving.
‘Well, go on,’ urged Colbeck. ‘They won’t harm you. I’ve yet to hear of anyone being savaged by a wild ewe.’
About to move off, Leeming was stopped by a sudden thought.
‘There’s something that worries me, Inspector,’ he said.
‘What is it?’
‘Well, in the space of a morning we’ve lost our two chief suspects. If neither of them committed the murder, who did?’
Agnes Reader bided her time until they were about to leave. Having chosen the keepsake she’d been offered – a tiny silver brooch in the shape of a thistle – she said that she would replace the jewellery box.