‘Even I have heard of Mudie’s Lending Library.’
‘It’s been opened for less than twenty years but it’s been a huge success. In fact, there are so many books there now that they don’t have room to display them all. They had to move to larger premises but there still aren’t enough shelves.’
‘Libraries are a closed book to me,’ he said, artlessly.
When Madeleine laughed, he realised what he’d said and apologised for the unintended pun, sinking back into his seat and listening to the steady clip-clop of the horse’s hooves. Leeming was not sanguine about their hopes of success. Sensing his pessimism, Madeleine sought to raise his spirits.
‘We’ll find Miss Quayle somehow,’ she said, brightly. ‘We have to.’
When Colbeck returned to the Royal Hotel that afternoon, he found someone waiting for him. Lucas Quayle leapt up from his seat and accosted the detective. Having first gone to the police station in Derby, he’d been sent on to the hotel. Pleased to meet him, Colbeck felt rather conspicuous standing beside a man in mourning wear.
‘How did you pick me out so easily?’ he asked.
‘Superintendent Wigg gave me a description of you.’
Colbeck smiled. ‘I can imagine that it was not altogether flattering. But you didn’t need to ask him, surely. Your brother could have told you what I looked like.’
‘Stanley gave us no information whatsoever about you,’ said Lucas Quayle. ‘We were merely told that you’d come and gone.’
‘That sums up my visit perfectly. It was a very short interview. Your brother was too … preoccupied.’
‘He often is, Inspector.’
‘Does he know that you’ve come to see me?’
‘No, he doesn’t. If I’d told him in advance, he’d have tried to stop me.’
‘But we need all the help we can get, Mr Quayle. Anything we can learn about your family is valuable to us.’
They adjourned to a quiet corner of the lounge and lowered themselves into armchairs. Colbeck had the feeling that his visitor would be much more forthcoming than his brother. He anticipated the first question.
‘You’ll no doubt wish to know what progress we’ve made so far.’
‘Yes, I would,’ said Lucas Quayle.
‘I’d be happy to furnish you with a list of suspects but, unfortunately, we don’t have one as yet. There are one or two people who’ve … come to our attention, let us say, but an arrest is still a long way off.’
‘I appreciate that it may take time, Inspector.’
‘We’ve gathered a lot of evidence, however, and it’s pointing us in certain directions. That’s all I can tell you at present, sir.’
‘We put our trust in you, Inspector.’
‘What we still have are gaps to fill regarding your family.’
‘Ask me what you need to now.’
‘Then let me start where your brother ended my conversation with him,’ said Colbeck, testing him out. ‘What can you tell me about Gerard Burns?’
Lucas Quayle did not flinch. He gave an honest reply, explaining that Burns had been a personable young man who did his job well and improved the gardens immeasurably. Nobody in the family had been aware of the fact that Lydia had fallen in love with the gardener. When the relationship came to light, Stanley Quayle had been as vengeful as their father. They both subjected Lydia to a verbal onslaught that left her distraught. While he didn’t entirely approve of the romance with Burns, Lucas Quayle had been more sympathetic towards his sister. He admitted that he’d had one or two foolish dalliances in his past and argued that it gave him a degree of understanding of Lydia’s position. Colbeck stepped in.
‘With respect Mr Quayle,’ he said, ‘I don’t think that there’s any similarity between you and your sister here. You confess quite openly that you were briefly led astray but the relationship between Burns and your sister was far more committed. They even considered elopement.’
Lucas Quayle was thunderstruck. ‘Who told you that?’
‘It was Mr Burns himself.’
‘You’ve spoken to him?’
‘After the way that your brother reacted to the mere mention of his name, I simply had to. Burns was certainly no philanderer. His love for your sister was deep and genuine, and it was requited.’ The other man nodded sadly. ‘Burns told me that he was thrown off the estate and that your sister was sent abroad.’
‘That was Stanley’s idea. If it had been left to him, Lydia would have ended up at the North Pole but they compromised on Italy. She’d always wanted to go there. Father believed that three months of Mediterranean sunshine would remind her of her duty to the family and wipe the memory of Gerard Burns from her mind.’
‘The plan didn’t work, sir.’
‘I know that. Lydia was still infatuated with him.’
‘Are you aware that your father took steps to keep Burns away from her?’
‘He used his influence to ensure that the fellow would never work in the area again. Father could be brutal on occasion and so can my brother. They watched Lydia like hawks. It was demeaning for her.’
Colbeck realised that he was clearly unaware of the threats of violence made against Burns but decided against telling him. Lucas Quayle might disbelieve him. If he did, there was no point in blackening the image of his father in a younger son’s mind days away from the funeral. The tense situation at the house, he learnt, did not last indefinitely. When she reached her twenty-first birthday, Lydia had come into enough money to support herself in relative comfort. It also gave her the confidence to challenge her father and then to defy him. Though he didn’t know the full details, her younger brother said that there’d been a fierce argument before his elder sister had left the house for good.
‘Did none of you keep in touch with her?’ asked Colbeck.
‘We were ordered not to, Inspector.’
‘How did you feel about that?’
‘I was very upset. I’d always liked Lydia. She had so much more life in her than Agnes, my younger sister. As long as she stayed at home, however, Lydia was having that life squeezed out of her. It was painful to watch.’
‘Tell me about your father, sir.’
‘If you’ve met Stanley, you already know the essence of his character.’
‘Are they so alike?’
‘Yes, Inspector, they love to be in charge.’
While he spoke with some affection for his father, Lucas Quayle did not disguise the man’s driving ambition and his determination to get the better of his rivals in whatever walk of life. Vivian Quayle had had two passions — one was for collecting the fine china that Colbeck had seen on display in the study, and the other was for the game of cricket.
‘If you’ve spoken to Burns, you’ll have heard about our matches.’
‘Yes,’ said Colbeck, ‘I understand that he was your prize asset.’
‘Frankly, we’d never have won without him.’
‘I believe that your brother was captain of the team.’
‘Stanley insisted.’
‘Did he have any special talent for the game?’
The other man laughed. ‘No, Inspector, I think his highest score was eleven. He couldn’t bowl to save his life and he wasn’t mobile enough to be any use in the field. Yet he strutted around as if he’d just scored a century. We had three good players in our team — Burns was one, Cleary, the coachman, was another and I was the third. I was a far better batsman than Stanley,’ he went on, ‘but there was never any chance of my being captain. Do you have an elder brother?’
‘Unfortunately, I don’t. I was an only child.’
‘Then you can count yourself, lucky, Inspector. The worst thing to be in my family is a younger brother.’
‘Forgive me for saying so, Mr Quayle,’ argued Colbeck, ‘but it seems to me that that unwelcome distinction should go to your elder sister. You stayed and remained on amicable terms with your parents. Your sister was effectively banished.’
Lucas Quayle was contrite. ‘You are quite right to remind me of that,’ he said. ‘Taking everything into account, I’ve had a remarkably happy life. Lydia has never enjoyed that same contentment and that upsets me.’