‘That seems reasonable.’
‘It worried me, Inspector,’ she said. ‘It worried me that she was going to open the bureau. I wondered if she knew about that secret compartment and was after the keys. So, after she’d gone…’ The tears had to be kept at bay again. ‘Oh, I know that I shouldn’t have done what I did. It wasn’t my place to do it but I felt that Mrs Tarleton’s privacy was being invaded. I felt responsible.’
‘You were right to do so,’ he told her, trying to spare her the ordeal of giving a full explanation. ‘I think that you wisely decided to check that the keys were still in the secret compartment. Is that what happened?’ She nodded. ‘And were they there?’
She nodded again then dissolved into tears of shame. He got up to put a consoling arm around her and to coax her into taking another sip of brandy. When she’d finally dried her eyes, he spoke again.
‘You found something else in there, didn’t you?’
‘I wish to God that I hadn’t!’ she cried. ‘If I had my time over again, I’d never go near that bureau. I shouldn’t have found out what I did, Inspector. I shouldn’t know.’
She opened her bag and took out a bundle of letters written on pink stationery. Handing the bundle to Colbeck, she lowered her head in embarrassment. Colbeck undid the ribbon and opened the first letter. Like all the others, it had been written in a graceful hand by Agnes Reader. He read it through without comment then looked at each of the others in turn. He tied the ribbon around the bundle once again.
‘May I keep hold of these, please?’ he asked.
‘Oh, yes!’ she said. ‘I never want to see them again.’
‘I can understand that, Mrs Withers, but you mustn’t blame yourself. In finding these, you’ve done Mrs Tarleton a great service because you’ve provided me with a clue that will almost certainly lead to the arrest of her killer.’
‘I’ve never heard of such a thing, Inspector. I keep thinking of the poor colonel. Do you believe that he could have known?’
‘I hope that he didn’t,’ said Colbeck, softly. ‘Have you told anyone else about this?’
‘I’d be too ashamed to do that, sir.’
‘Please keep it to yourself for the time being. When you’ve finished that brandy, I’ll get Sergeant Leeming to see you back to the house.’ She was still profoundly disturbed by her discovery and in need of reassurance. ‘You did the right thing, Mrs Withers. One day, you’ll come to appreciate that.’
Agnes Reader was so overcome with sadness when they returned home that she took to her bed. Unable to sleep, she lay there brooding for a few hours. When her husband looked in on her, she was still wide awake. He was attentive.
‘Is there anything I can get you, my dear?’
‘No, thank you.’
‘Shall I have a pot of tea sent up?’
‘I’d just like to be left alone, Bertram,’ she said.
‘Then you shall be,’ he told her, backing away. The doorbell rang down below. ‘We’re not expecting anyone, are we?’
‘No…and whoever it is, I don’t want to see them.’
‘You won’t be disturbed, Agnes, I promise.’
Reader left the room and padded downstairs. He was taken aback to see the maid showing Colbeck into the drawing room. After dismissing her with a wave, he went in to meet his visitor.
‘Good afternoon, Inspector,’ he said.
‘I’m sorry to intrude on you again, Mr Reader,’ said Colbeck, ‘but I really need to speak to Mrs Reader.’
‘She’s not available at the moment, I’m afraid.’
‘Then I’ll have to wait until she is available, however long it takes. Perhaps you could convey that message to her.’
‘My wife is asleep.’
‘I’ll still be here when she wakes up.’
Colbeck was polite but purposeful. The banker could see that he wouldn’t leave the house until he’d spoken to Agnes.
‘May I know what this is all about, Inspector?’ he asked.
‘That’s a decision only your wife can make.’
‘I don’t like mysteries.’
‘I love them, sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘Solving them always gives me a sense of deep satisfaction.’
‘Couldn’t this wait until tomorrow?’
‘No, Mr Reader. It needs to be resolved before the inquest.’
The banker stared at him and there was a silent battle of wills. Determined not to bother his wife, Reader was at the same time curious to know why Colbeck was there. For his part, the inspector was inscrutable. His non-committal smile gave nothing away, except the fact that he intended to stay indefinitely. In the end, Reader weakened and edged towards the door.
‘I’ll see if my wife has woken up yet,’ he said.
‘Thank you, sir. I’d be most grateful.’
Reader went out and was absent for a long time. Colbeck was able to take a good look at the room. Its paintings and ornaments had dazzled Leeming but Colbeck was more interested in the furniture. Coming from a family of cabinetmakers, he had an eye for superior craftsmanship. He was admiring a Jacobean court cupboard when Reader finally reappeared with his wife. Agnes was composed.
‘I believe you wish to speak to me,’ she said.
‘That’s right, Mrs Reader. It’s on a private matter. You may or may not wish your husband to remain.’
‘My wife has no secrets from me, Inspector,’ said Reader.
Agnes studied the visitor’s face. ‘In this instance,’ she said, sensing what might have brought Colbeck there, ‘I think I would like you to leave us, Bertram.’ He was clearly hurt. ‘I’ll tell you everything that passes between us.’
‘If that’s what you wish, my dear, that’s how it will be. But I won’t be far away. Should you need me,’ he went on, tossing a glance at Colbeck, ‘you only have to call.’
Crossing to the double doors on the other side of the room, he opened them wide and stepped through into the library. Colbeck waited until he heard the doors click shut once more. Agnes pointed to the sofa and he sat down. Eyes never leaving his face, she chose an armchair. She looked calm and poised.
‘Certain letters have come into my possession,’ he said, quietly.
‘You had no right to read them,’ she protested. ‘That was a private correspondence.’
‘It also happens to be evidence in a murder investigation, Mrs Reader. That being the case, I had every right to examine them.’
‘It was that bitch of a housekeeper, wasn’t it?’
‘That’s immaterial,’ said Colbeck. ‘The fact is that I read the letters and they were able to fill in a number of blank spaces for me. When I heard that Mrs Tarleton used to visit Edinburgh to see her cousin, I assumed that she stayed at the cousin’s home. That was not always so, was it? On at least three occasions, you and she shared a room at a particular hotel.’
‘There’s no need to repeat it,’ she snapped. ‘And if you expect me to feel guilty about it, you’ll be disappointed. Miriam and I had a very special friendship. Talking about it the way you do only serves to cheapen it.’
‘I make no moral judgement, Mrs Reader, and I think you’ll find that you can rely on my discretion. I came here for two reasons. First, I wanted to see if you’d resort to denial.’
‘That would be an insult to both of us, Inspector. Why deny something that was so beautiful?’
‘I respect that.’
‘You said that there were two reasons.’
‘The second one is perhaps more important. Who else knew about your friendship with Mrs Tarleton?’
She was firm. ‘Nobody knew,’ she said. ‘We were extremely careful. The colonel was too bound up in his own affairs and my husband allows me complete freedom.’
‘Presumably, Mrs Tarleton wrote you letters?’
‘You’re not going to see those, Inspector.’
‘I don’t wish to do so.’
‘They’re very precious to me. Nobody else will ever see them.’
‘I’ve brought your letters with me,’ he said, patting his pocket. ‘You’re welcome to have them back with my assurance that I’m the only person to have read them.’