The Excursion Train (27 page)

‘We all did,’ she replied. ‘It took place in the middle of the square. They might have come to blows if Gregory hadn’t stopped them.’

‘Gregory Newman?’

‘He was Nathan’s best friend. He pulled him away and tried to talk sense into him. Gregory told him to go home.’

‘But he came back, didn’t he?’

‘So they say.’

‘And he was seen very close to where the murder took place.’

‘I know nothing of that, Sergeant,’ she said, brusquely. ‘But I still believe that they hanged the wrong man.’

‘Have you any idea who the killer might be?’

‘None at all.’

‘But you were shocked when Hawkshaw was found guilty?’

‘Yes, I was.’

‘Did you go to the execution?’

‘Why are you asking me that?’ she challenged. ‘And why did you come here in the first place? That case is over and done with.’

‘If only it were, Mrs Brennan,’ said Leeming, ‘but it’s had so many tragic consequences. That’s why Inspector Colbeck and I are looking into it again. Your name came to our attention.’

‘I can’t help you,’ she said, curtly.

‘I get the feeling that you don’t
want
to help me.’

Leeming met her gaze. Kathleen Brennan’s manner verged on the hostile and he could not understand what provocation he had given her. Without quite knowing why, he was unsettled by her. There was something about the woman that made him feel, if not threatened, then a trifle disturbed. Leeming was glad that they were conversing in the open air and not in the privacy of her cottage.

‘You haven’t told me if you attended the execution.’

‘And I’m not going to.’

‘Are you ashamed that you went?’

‘I didn’t say that I did.’

‘But you felt sorry for Nathan Hawkshaw?’

‘We all did – that’s why Gregory got the petition together.’

‘Was he the person who asked you to sign?’

‘No,’ she said, ‘it was Nathan’s wife.’

‘Did you simply put your name on that list out of friendship?’

Anger showed in her face. ‘No, I didn’t! You’ve got no call to ask me that, Sergeant. I did what I believed was right and so did the others. We wanted to save Nathan.’

‘Yet you had no actual proof that he was innocent.’

Kathleen Brennan’s eyes glinted and she breathed hard through her nose. Leeming could see that his questions had inflamed her. She stepped forward and pulled the door shut behind her.

‘I’ve got to go to work,’ she said.

‘Then I won’t stop you, Mrs Brennan. Thank you for your help.’

‘Nathan Hawkshaw was a good man, Sergeant.’

‘That’s what everyone says.’

‘Try listening to them.’

She walked abruptly past him and headed across the field towards the farmhouse on the ridge. Leeming was nonplussed, unsure whether his visit had been pointless or whether he had stumbled on something of interest and significance. As he trudged back to the station, he wondered why Kathleen Brennan had made him so uneasy. It was only when, after a lengthy wait, he caught the return train to Ashford that he realised exactly what it was.

There was an additional surprise for him. As the train chugged merrily along the line, he looked absent-mindedly through the window and saw something that made him sit up and stare. A young woman was riding a horse along the road at a steady canter, her red hair blowing in the wind. The person who had told him that she had to go to work was now riding with some urgency towards Ashford.

Inspector Colbeck was so intrigued by what he had learnt from his meeting with emily Hawkshaw that he took himself to a wooden bench near St Mary’s Church and sat down to think. The square tower soared above him and he looked up at it with misgiving, certain that, if the girl really had committed suicide, then the full truth about the murder of Jospeh Dykes would never be known. Emily was young, immature and in a fragile state but he could not excuse her on those grounds. In the light of what he had discovered, he simply had to talk to her again.

Winifred Hawkshaw was unhappy with the idea. When he returned to the shop after long cogitation, she became very protective.

‘Emily needs to be left alone,’ she claimed. ‘It’s the only way
that she’ll ever get over this.’

‘I disagree, Mrs Hawkshaw,’ said Colbeck. ‘As long as she feels such a sense of guilt, there’s always the possibility that she’ll attempt to take her own life again – and I may not be on hand next time.’

‘My daughter has nothing to feel guilty about, Inspector.’

‘Is that what she’s told you?’

‘No,’ admitted Winifred. ‘She’s told me precious little.’

‘That in itself is an indication of guilt. If she’s unable to confide in the person closest to her, what kind of secret is she hiding? Whatever it is, it won’t let her rest. I simply must see her again,’ insisted Colbeck, ‘and this time, you must leave us alone together.’

‘I couldn’t do that.’

‘I won’t get the truth out of her with her mother there.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I believe that it concerns you.’

Winifred Hawkshaw was discomfited. It took time to persuade her to summon her daughter but she eventually acceded to his request. There was an even longer delay as she argued with Emily then more or less forced her daughter to come downstairs. The girl was sullen and withdrawn when she came into the room. She refused to sit down.

‘Very well,’ said Colbeck, settling into a chair, ‘you can stand up. I think that you know why I’ve come back again, don’t you?’

‘No.’

‘I want the full story, Emily. And let me assure you of one thing. Whatever you tell me is in strictest confidence. I’m not going to pass it on to anyone – not even to your mother. She’s the one person who must never know, isn’t she? At least, that’s
what you think now.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘I think you do, Emily. Did your father commit that murder?’

‘No!’ she retorted.

‘Would you swear to that?’

‘On the Bible.’

‘But would you confess
why
you’re so certain about it?’ asked Colbeck, lowering his voice. ‘No, you wouldn’t, would you? Because you had a chance to do just that at the trial.’ Emily’s cheeks were drained of what little colour they possessed. ‘The reason you know that he could not possibly have killed Joseph Dykes is that you were with your father at the time.’

‘That’s not true!’ she cried.

‘Except that you never saw him as your real father, did you? He was kind to you. He protected you from Adam. He was your friend.’ The girl let out a gasp of horror at being found out. ‘You loved him as a friend, didn’t you, Emily? There’s no question that he loved you. Nathan Hawkshaw went to the gallows rather than betray you.’

‘Stop!’ she implored.

‘It has to come out, Emily,’ he told her, getting up to stand beside the girl. ‘The truth is a poison that must be sucked out of you before it kills you. I’m not here to judge you or to tell you that what you did was wrong. All I want to do is to find the man who did kill Joseph Dykes then went on to murder two other people. Did your mother tell you what happened yesterday evening?’

‘No.’

‘This man that we’re after tried to shoot me, Emily.’ She looked at him with dismay. ‘Unless we catch him, there’ll be
other victims. You’re in a position to help us. Do you want more people to be killed as a result of what happened that day at Lenham fair?’ She shook her head. ‘Then tell me the truth. You’ll be helping yourself as much as me.’

Emily stared up at him with a fear that was tempered with a wild hope. Colbeck could see that she was wrestling hard with her demons. The guilt that had been oppressing her for weeks was now bearing down like a ton weight.

‘You won’t tell Mother?’ she whispered.

‘That’s something that only you should do, Emily.’

‘I feel so ashamed.’

‘I think that your father – your friend, I should say – deserved to bear the greater shame. You were too young to understand what was happening. He was much older – he knew.’

‘I loved him.’

‘And he loved you, Emily, but not in a way that a stepfather should. It cost him his life.’ She shuddered. ‘I’m sure that he repented at the last. He took the sin upon himself. You don’t have to go through life with it hanging over you forever.’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Why?’

Emily was not able to tell him yet. She was still shocked and frightened by the way that he seemed to have looked into her mind and discerned her secret. It was unnerving.

‘How did you know?’ she asked.

‘There were clues,’ he explained. ‘When you were attacked by Dykes, you didn’t turn to your mother for help. In fact, you pulled away from her. And, at the very time when you should have been drawn closer as you mourned together, you shut her out.’

‘I had to, Inspector.’

‘You lost the person you really loved and you felt that you couldn’t live without him.’

‘I caused him to die.’

‘No, Emily.’

‘If he hadn’t been with me that day, he’d be alive now.’

‘And what sort of life would it have been?’ asked Colbeck. ‘The two of you were lying to your mother and lying to each other. It could never have gone on like that, Emily. It was only a matter of time before you were found out. Think what would have happened then.’

‘I hated all the lies and deceit,’ she admitted.

‘You went along with them out of love but it was never a love that you could show to the world. You asked me how I knew,’ he went on, ‘and it wasn’t only because of the way you treated your mother. There was your fear of the doctor as well.’ His inquiry was gentle. ‘Are you with child, Emily?’

‘I don’t know – I may be.’

‘If that’s the case, then you tried to kill
two
people when you went up that church tower. That makes it even worse. You must have been in despair to do that.’

‘I was. I still am.’

‘No, Emily. We’re drawing that poison out of you. It’s going to hurt but you’ll feel better for it in the end. You have to face up to what you did instead of trying to run away from it. Most important of all,’ he stressed, ‘you mustn’t take all the blame on your own shoulders.’

‘I can’t help it, Inspector.’

‘You were led astray by your stepfather.’

‘That isn’t how it was.’

‘He admitted his guilt by giving his life to save yours.’

‘It was not like that,’ she told him, her eyes filling with tears.

‘Joe Dykes did touch me in that lane but that was all he did. I only pretended that he did much more than that. Before I ran back here, I even tore my dress. I wanted Nathan to comfort me. That’s how it all started,’ she said with a sob in her voice. ‘I just
wanted
him.’

By the time he got back to the inn, Victor Leeming had decided that his visit to Wye had not been in vain at all. He had something to report. To his disappointment, however, he did not find Colbeck at the Saracen’s Head. In the Inspector’s place were George Butterkiss and a complete stranger. The Constable leapt up at once from his chair and came across to Leeming.

‘I found him, Sergeant,’ he declared, as if expecting a reward.

‘Who?’

‘Amos Lockyer. Come and meet him.’

He took Leeming across to the table and introduced him to his friend. The two of them sat down opposite Lockyer, a short, fleshy man in his late fifties with an ugly face that was redeemed by a benign smile. His hand was curled around a pint of beer and, from the way he slurred his words, it was clearly not his first drink of the day.

‘How did you track him down, Constable?’ asked Leeming.

‘I remembered the Romney Marshes.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I once told George that I’d like to retire there,’ said Lockyer, taking up the story. ‘I had an uncle who was on his last legs and he promised to leave his cottage to me. I got word of his death when I was working at Leeds Castle.
That
was no
job for me,’ he told them with disgust. ‘I wasn’t born to fetch and carry for my betters because I don’t believe that they were any better than me.’ He gave a throaty chuckle. ‘So, after I’d buried Uncle Sidney, I decided to retire.’

‘That’s where I found him,’ said Butterkiss. ‘At his new home.’

‘You did well,’ conceded Leeming.

‘Thank you, Sergeant. But how have you got on?’

‘The first two ladies on that list could be discounted at once, but I’m not so sure about the third. What can you tell me about Kathleen Brennan from Wye?’

‘Nothing beyond what I told you before.’

‘There was something very odd about Mrs Brennan.’

‘You should have asked
me
about her,’ said Lockyer, helpfully. ‘What’s odd about Mrs Brennan is that she’s the only woman I know who wears a wedding ring without having been anywhere near a husband.’ He grinned amiably. ‘A husband of her own, that is.’

‘She’s not married?’

‘No, Sergeant, and never has been.’

‘How do you know her?’

‘From the time when she used to serve beer at the Fountain,’ recalled the older man. ‘This was before your time, George, so you won’t remember Kathy Brennan. She was very popular with the customers.’

‘That was the feeling I had about her,’ said Leeming. ‘She was too knowing. As if she was no better than she ought to be.’

‘Oh, I don’t condemn a woman for making the most of her charms and Kathy certainly had those. They were good enough to start charging money for, which was how she and I
crossed swords.’

‘You mean that she was a prostitute?’ asked Butterkiss.

‘Of sorts,’ said Lockyer, indulgently. ‘And only for a short time until she saw the dangers of it. I liked the woman. She always struck me as someone who wanted a man to love her enough to stay by her but she couldn’t find one in Ashford. What made her change her ways was that business with Joe Dykes.’

‘I don’t remember that,’ said Butterkiss.

‘What happened?’ prompted Leeming.

‘Joe was in the Fountain one night,’ said Lockyer, ‘and he took a fancy to Kathy. So off they go to that lane behind the Corn Exchange. Only she’s heard about his reputation for having his fun then running off without paying, so she asked for some cash beforehand.’