The Reckoning (16 page)

‘That tells us something.' A scowl had appeared on Madden's forehead as he listened. ‘It means he had to have planned it well in advance.'

‘That's what I thought.' Billy nodded. ‘And it clears up one question at least.'

‘You mean Canning was his chosen target? There's no question of him being a random victim.'

‘None at all, I reckon. There's evidence, too, that this man was watching the house a few days ago. We'll tell you about that in a moment.'

‘Yes, go back to the van. It was found parked near the station, you say. Could he have left Winchester by train?'

‘It's possible.' Billy took another sip of his beer. ‘The murder occurred at about half-past five and there was a train leaving for London at a quarter-past seven. The police weren't slow off the mark. As soon as they'd heard Miss Abbot's story, officers were sent to the station and the bus terminal to check on the passengers, men travelling on their own. Unfortunately they didn't have much to go on in the way of a description.'

‘The girl couldn't help there?'

‘Apart from the balaclava, all she could remember was that he was dressed in dark clothing, possibly a coat of some kind. So, once he'd taken off his mask, he would have looked like anyone else.'

Billy drained his glass.

‘In fact, the more I think about it, the more I reckon he's a quick-change artist.'

‘Oh? Why?' Ever alert, the chief inspector pounced on the remark.

‘Well, going back to Lewes, sir' – Billy turned to him – ‘if you recall, the shepherd who witnessed the murder had a good view of him. He was wearing tan trousers and a red sweater. But nobody looking anything like that was spotted afterwards: not in Lewes, or on the Downs. And not in Brighton, either, which he could have walked to. It was the same at Oxford. The cox on the river saw a man wearing a coat and a cloth cap standing right behind the bench where Singleton was sitting. I rang the inspector in charge there the other day. He told me they'd had a good response to their request for people who were out on Port Meadow that afternoon, or on the towpath, to get in touch with them. But none of them were able to help: there were no sightings of the man they were looking for or anyone resembling him. He seems to have vanished, and that made me think he probably changed his appearance. There were some bushes behind the bench. He could easily have slipped in there and come out looking quite different.'

The chief inspector made no comment, but he seemed satisfied with the explanation.

‘You said he might have been watching the house?'

Madden put the question, and again Billy turned to his young colleague.

‘Go ahead,' he said.

Lily cleared her throat.

‘That came up when I asked Miss Abbot whether Canning had a surprise visitor in the days before he was shot,' she said. ‘I was thinking of Oswald Gibson. But she said no, not as far as she knew.'

‘Still, in his case it might not have been necessary.' Madden frowned. ‘Canning was a public figure: there was no danger of mistaking him for anyone else.'

‘What she did remember, though, was spotting someone with a pair of field glasses lurking in a wood near the house.' Lily frowned. ‘It could have been our shooter. He may have decided that the best way to get at Canning was in his home. It's an old stone manor with a terrace in front. He probably came in through the garden. It was already dark by that time and, being a Saturday, there was no one around. And, though it was foggy, he could have seen Canning in his study through the lighted windows. Nobody saw the killer leave, but I reckon it's likely he went out the same way he came in. That would have been safest.'

Lily was reading from her notes. When she looked up she caught Sinclair's eye and saw his approving nod.

‘And obvious that he'd worked out a route.' Madden spoke again.

‘Like a military operation.' Billy nodded. ‘I remember you saying he might have had special training.'

‘What happened to the slug that killed Canning?'

‘It went clean through his head. We found it on the carpet. I'm taking it back to London.' Billy patted his jacket pocket. ‘I noticed it was bent out of shape, so it's probably not like the others – iron-cored. Maybe the killer learned his lesson at Oxford. Maybe he thinks some more of those old Jerry bullets might be duds. Whatever else, he's no madman, this bloke; he's got his head screwed on.'

Yawning, he put his empty plate aside and then looked at his watch.

‘Just one more thing, then we'd better be going.' He turned once more to Madden. ‘It's that link you suggested with the First World War. It's come up again. I don't know if you're aware of it, but Canning was a retired general . . .'

‘I know.' Madden nodded. ‘I remember the name. In fact, he was our corps commander for a while. But I have to tell you, I never set eyes on him. What's in your mind, Billy?'

‘I was wondering if revenge could be the motive. You'd know better than me, but isn't it a fact that a lot of those generals – Haig and the rest – are still thought to have blood on their hands?'

Madden was slow to reply. He was reminded of his earlier train of thought: his reluctance to push the idea that he had put forward too far.

‘It's a tempting idea,' he said finally. ‘But I doubt you can tar Canning with that particular brush. As a commander he was ineffectual. He had the reputation of being one of Haig's lapdogs. And he didn't last very long. He was replaced after only a few months.'

Billy rose to his feet. Putting her notebook away, Lily followed suit.

‘Well, it's still the only possible connection we've come up with so far. I haven't told you yet, but I got in touch with the RAMC and they confirmed that a Wallace Drummond served in the Medical Corps for three years. He was posted to France for two of them. So that means all the victims were there at some point.'

‘But was it at the same time?' Madden peered up at him. ‘And were they ever together? And was I anywhere in the vicinity? It's still only a guess. I wouldn't place too much faith in it.'

‘Billy, you and Miss Poole can't possibly drive back to London in this fog. Stay the night, both of you. You can leave first thing in the morning.'

Helen put a hand on his arm.

‘I only wish I could. There's nothing I'd like more.' Billy grinned. ‘But we have to get going. I talked to the chief super earlier today. He'd had the press on to him at home, and the commissioner, too. He's going to issue another statement in the
morning and wants to discuss it with me first. And then there's Elsie and the kids to think of. It was Jack's birthday yesterday.' He was referring to his elder son. ‘He was twelve, and his mum had been saving up ration points and what-have-you for weeks so as to make him a real chocolate cake. And then, right in the middle of his party, the call came from the Yard and I had to leave. I just had time to watch him blow out the candles.' He shook his head regretfully. ‘A copper's life . . .'

He turned to Sinclair.

‘Thank you for the bite of lunch, sir. It was more than welcome.'

The chief inspector had walked up from his cottage with the others. They had been standing in front of the house when they heard the sound of Helen's car approaching up the drive. When introduced to Lily, she greeted the young woman warmly.

‘Lily Poole. I know that name well. Mr Sinclair has often spoken of you.'

Helen's smile on seeing the blush that her words brought to Lily's cheeks had quickly faded when she learned the reason for their presence and, on hearing that Billy planned to return to London at once, she had tried, unsuccessfully, to dissuade him from leaving.

‘When all this is over, you must bring Elsie and the children down for a weekend.' Seeing that he could not be shifted, she had given in. ‘Lucy's coming back from Paris soon. She'd love to see you all.'

‘Now there's something to look forward to.'

Billy went to his car. Lily had already climbed into the passenger seat.

‘And don't forget, I'll be in London myself next week,' Madden called after him. ‘I'm going up first thing tomorrow. I'll be staying at Aunt Maud's house in St John's Wood. You've got the number there. Call me if anything comes up.'

‘I hadn't forgotten, sir. In fact I may take you up on that offer.' Billy opened the car door. ‘There are still those diaries of Ozzie Gibson's. Brother Edward will be back from Bath by now. He promised to look at the wartime entries again. Who knows – there may be something there.'

15

T
HE SOUND OF HAMMERING
coming from the cellar was so loud that Madden didn't hear the phone ring. He had taken an early train up to London in order to get to the house well in advance of the crew of workmen he had engaged, but somewhat to his surprise they had knocked on the door at half-past eight, only minutes after his arrival from Waterloo station in a taxi. Three in number, they had included a foreman by the name of Milligan who, accompanied by Madden, had carried out an inspection of the cellar before announcing that the work on the rising damp in the back wall would take several days to complete.

‘First we'll have to dig her out,' he'd explained. ‘Then there'll be the brickwork and plastering to do. But once we've cleared the cellar we can start on the rewiring. That's a big job, and it'll cause some disturbance in the house. I understand there's an old lady living here?' His bushy eyebrows had gone up like question marks.

‘A very old lady, Mr Milligan. She's ninety-three, and spends most of her time in bed. She'll have to be moved to another room when you rewire hers. I'll see to it that she's warned in advance.'

Shortly afterwards the hammering in the basement had begun and Madden had dispatched Alice upstairs to enquire
whether her mistress was awake yet and, if so, to inform her that unfortunately the noise would continue all morning, and possibly into the afternoon. Alice had returned with the news that Aunt Maud was awake and in sufficiently good spirits to have asked for a cup of tea and some toast to be brought up to her. Shortly afterwards Alice had returned upstairs, this time with a tray, leaving Madden to sit in the kitchen and wonder whether his presence was really necessary or whether he could slip out of the house for an hour. Helen had given him a shopping list to work through while he was in London. Above the sound of the hammering he heard the phone ring, but before he had time to rise from his chair Alice appeared in the doorway.

‘I was coming downstairs, sir.' She had to raise her voice. ‘It's a Mr Styles. He's asking for you.'

‘Billy?' The noise out in the hall was almost as bad. ‘So you got back safely?' Pressing the receiver to one ear, Madden blocked the other with his finger. ‘Helen was worried about you. How are things going this morning? Has Charlie issued a statement yet?'

‘He had the press in half an hour ago. He gave them the stuff about the girl, and the bloke being masked. They lapped it up.' Billy sounded scornful. ‘I called about something else, sir. I've just been talking to Edward Gibson. He's found something.'

‘In the
diaries
?' Madden had to strain to hear. The hammering below had risen to a new pitch.

‘That's what he said. But he doesn't know what it means. Ozzie had this cryptic way of writing. That's how Edward put it. He can't decipher all the entries, but he thinks they might be of interest to us.'

‘Do they date from the war?'

‘From 1917. Ozzie was called up the year before and served mostly in this country. But there was a spell of three months when he was posted to France, and it was then he made these particular entries. Edward has suggested that I go over to his
office and have a look at them.' Billy hesitated. ‘How are you placed today, sir?'

Madden considered the question. Though the noise was unpleasant, he felt it would be unfair to Aunt Maud and Alice to abandon them so soon.

‘This morning's difficult, Billy. I ought to keep an eye on things here. Can we make it this afternoon?'

‘Gibson's busy with clients at the moment. But he said he could see me at two.'

‘I'll meet you then.'

‘He'd seen the papers this morning. He knows about Canning's murder. He's in a state, I can tell you.'

Billy had been waiting outside the solicitor's office in Gray's Inn Road when Madden's tall figure appeared striding along the pavement towards him. Unable to find a taxi, he had travelled down from St John's Wood by tube.

‘What has Gibson found in the diaries?' he asked as they climbed the stairs to the second-floor office. ‘Did he give you any idea?'

‘Not really. Only that there was something strange about some of the entries.' Billy was puffing before they reached the top and he noticed with envy that his older companion seemed to be making light of the steep stairs. ‘He said he hadn't looked closely at the war years before: he thought it was too long ago to have any bearing. But he went through them again during the weekend after he got back from Bath.'

‘These entries he's talking about – were they written in France?'

Madden paused when he reached the landing. Plodding behind him, Billy nodded.

‘Ozzie's unit was stationed at Boulogne. But he was sent to some other place for a while, and that's where he was when he wrote them.'

Shown into the solicitor's office a few moments later, they found him standing behind his desk staring out of the window.

‘At last!' He whirled to face them. ‘Inspector . . . Mr Madden . . .'

Gesturing to the two chairs placed in front of his desk, he took his own seat.

‘This is turning into a nightmare.' He fired the words at Billy. ‘The man's on a rampage. How many more people will he kill?'