Authors: Edward Marston
‘In other words,’ said Leeming, realising that he had just been given a valuable piece of information, ‘Kathleen Brennan had a good reason to hate Dykes.’
‘Hate him? She’d have scratched his eyes out.’
It was at that point that Robert Colbeck returned to the inn. Seeing the three of them, he came across to their table. As soon as he had been introduced to Lockyer, he took over the questioning.
‘Did you follow Jacob Guttridge to his home?’
‘Yes,’ replied Lockyer, uncomfortably.
‘Then you are an accessory to his murder.’
‘No, Inspector!’
‘Amos didn’t even know that he was dead,’ said Butterkiss, trying to defend his former colleague. ‘The first he heard about the murder – and that of the prison chaplain – was when I told him about them.’
‘It’s true,’ added Lockyer, earnestly. ‘I was stuck on a farm, miles from anywhere. You don’t get to read a newspaper when you’re digging up turnips all day. When George told me what’s been going on, I was shaken to the core.’
‘Yet you admit that you followed Guttridge,’ noted Colbeck.
‘That’s what I’m good at – finding where people live.’ He took a long sip of his beer. ‘I knew he’d lie low in Maidstone prison after the execution so I stayed the night there and waited at the station early next morning. Mr Guttridge caught the first train to Paddock Wood then took the train to London from there. Unknown to him, I was right behind him all the way.’
‘Like a shadow,’ said Butterkiss, admiringly.
‘Not exactly, George, because he walked much faster than me. This old injury slows me right down,’ he said, slapping his thigh. ‘He almost gave me the slip in Hoxton. I saw the street he went down but I didn’t know which house was his. So I waited on the corner until he came out again and I followed him all the way to Bethnal Green.’
‘To the Seven Stars,’ said Colbeck.
‘That’s right, Inspector. How did you know?’
Leeming was bitter. ‘We know all about the Seven Stars,’ he said. ‘If you went there, you must have discovered that Guttridge was going to be on that excursion train to watch the big fight.’
‘It was the only thing that people were talking about,’
explained Lockyer. ‘The landlord was making a list of all those who were going to support the Bargeman. Jake Guttridge was one of the first to put himself forward, though he gave a different name. I don’t blame him. The Seven Stars wasn’t the place to own up to being a hangman.’
‘What happened afterwards?’
‘I trailed him back to Hoxton. The trouble was that he spotted me and broke into a run. I had a job to keep up with him but at least I got the number of his house this time. I earned my money.’
‘From whom?’
‘The person who paid me to find his address.’
‘And who was that?’
‘Inspector,’ pleaded Lockyer, ‘I had no idea that he intended to kill Guttridge. I swear it. He said that he just wanted to scare him. If I’d known what I know now, I’d never have taken on the job.’
‘Give me his name, Mr Lockyer.’
‘I was a policeman. I’d never willingly break the law.’
‘His
name
,’ demanded Colbeck.
‘Adam Hawkshaw.’
Inspector Colbeck took no chances. Aware that Hawkshaw was a strong young man in a shop that was filled with weaponry, he stationed Leeming and Butterkiss at either end of Middle Row to prevent any attempt at escape. When he confronted the butcher in the empty shop, Colbeck was given a sneer of contempt.
‘What have you come for
this
time?’ said Hawkshaw.
‘You.’
‘Eh?’
‘I’m placing you under arrest for the murders of Jacob Guttridge and Narcissus Jones,’ said Colbeck, producing a pair of handcuffs from beneath his coat, ‘and for the attempted murder of a police officer.’
‘I never murdered anybody!’ protested the other.
‘Then why did you pay Amos Lockyer to find the hangman’s address for you?’ Hawkshaw’s mouth fell open. ‘I don’t think it was to send him your greetings, was it? What you sent him was a death threat.’
‘No,’ said Hawkshaw, defiantly.
‘You’ll have to come with me.’
‘But I’m innocent, Inspector.’
‘Then how do you explain your interest in Jacob Guttridge’s whereabouts?’ asked Colbeck, snapping the handcuffs on his wrists. ‘How do you account for the fact that you were seen taking a train to Paddock Wood on the night of the chaplain’s murder?’
‘I can’t tell you that.’
‘No, and you probably can’t tell me where you were yesterday evening, can you? Because I don’t believe that you were in your lodging. You were cowering in a doorway opposite the Saracen’s Head, waiting for me to come out so that you could shoot me.’
‘That’s not true,’ said Hawkshaw, struggling to get out of the handcuffs. ‘Take these things off me!’
‘Not until you’re safely behind bars.’
‘I had nothing to do with the murders!’
‘Prove it.’
The butcher looked shamefaced. Biting his lip, he grappled with his conscience for a long time. Eventually, he blurted out his confession.
‘On the night of the chaplain’s murder, I did take a train to Paddock Wood,’ he said, the words coming out slowly and with obvious embarrassment, ‘but it was not to go after him. I went to see someone and I took the train over there again last night.’
‘Can this person vouch for you?’
‘Yes, Inspector, but I’d rather you didn’t ask her.’
‘A lady, then – a young lady, I expect. What was her name?’
‘I can’t tell you that.’
‘Is that because you just invented her?’ pressed Colbeck.
‘No,’ rejoined the other, ‘Jenny is real.’
‘I’ll believe that when I see her, Mr Hawkshaw. Meanwhile, I’m going to make your mother aware of your arrest then take you back to London.’
‘Wait!’ said Hawkshaw in desperation. ‘There’s no need for this.’ He swallowed hard. ‘Her name is Jenny Skillen.’
‘Why couldn’t you tell me that before?’
‘She’s married.’
‘Ah.’
‘Her husband is coming back today.’
Colbeck knew that he was telling the truth. If he had a witness who could absolve him of the murder of Narcissus Jones then he could not be responsible for the other killings.
‘Why did you pay Amos Lockyer to find that address?’ he asked.
‘I wanted revenge,’ admitted Hawkshaw. ‘When I saw the way that he made my father suffer on the scaffold, I just wanted to tear out his heart. I didn’t say that to Amos. I told him that I just wanted to give the man a fright. He agreed to find his address for me, that was all. When he came back, he told me
that Guttridge would be at a prizefight in a few weeks’ time.’
‘So you decided to go on the same excursion train?’
‘No, Inspector – I give you my word. If I’m honest, I
thought
about it. I even planned what I’d do when I caught up with him. But I don’t think I could have gone through with it.’
‘Did you discuss this with anyone else?’
‘Yes,’ said Hawkshaw, ‘and he talked me out of it. He told me that I couldn’t bring back my father by killing the man who hanged him. He made me see how wrong it would have been and got me to promise that I’d forget all about it. He stopped me.’
‘Who did?’
‘Gregory – Gregory Newman.’
There were tears in his eyes as he stood beside the bed and looked down at his wife. Meg Newman had not woken all day. She lay in a sleep so deep that it was almost a coma. On the rare occasions when she did open her eyes for any length of time, she inhabited a twilight world of her own in which she could neither speak, move nor do anything for herself. Her husband gazed down at her with a mixture of love and resignation. Then he bent down to give her a farewell kiss that she never even felt.
‘You once begged me to do this,’ he said, ‘and I didn’t have the courage to put you out of your pain and misery. I have to do it now, Meg. Please forgive me.’
Gregory Newman put the pillow over her face and pressed down hard. It was not long before his wife stopped breathing.
Having released his prisoner, Colbeck went marching off to the railway works with Leeming and Butterkiss. As a
precaution, he deployed them at the two exits from the boiler shop before he went in. When he found the foreman, he had to shout above the incessant din.
‘I’ve come to see Gregory Newman again,’ he yelled.
‘You’re too late, Inspector.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He left half an hour ago,’ replied the foreman. ‘Someone brought word that his wife had taken a turn for the worse. I let him go home.’
‘Who brought the message?’
‘A young woman.’
Colbeck thanked him then hurried outside to collect the others. When he heard what had happened, Leeming was able to identify the bearer of the message.
‘Kathleen Brennan,’ he said. ‘I think she came to warn him.’
‘Let’s go to his house,’ ordered Colbeck.
They hurried to Turton Street and found the door of the house wide open. The blind had been drawn on the downstairs front window. Colbeck went quickly inside and looked into the front room. Weeping quietly, Mrs Sheen was pulling the sheet over the face of Meg Newman. She looked up in surprise at Colbeck.
‘Forgive this intrusion,’ he said, removing his hat. ‘We’re looking for Mr Newman. Is he here?’
‘Not any more, sir. He told me Meg had passed on and he left.’
‘Where did he go?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Mrs Sheen, ‘but he had a bag with him.’
‘Thank you. Please excuse me.’
Colbeck came back out into the street again. Butterkiss was keen.
‘What can I do, Inspector?’ he volunteered.
‘Nothing at all. He’s made a run for it.’
‘I just can’t believe that Gregory is involved in all this. He’s such a kind and considerate man. Look at the way he cared for his sick wife.’
‘He won’t care for her anymore.’
‘I think I know where he may have gone,’ said Leeming.
‘Where’s that, Victor?’
‘To the place where his female accomplice lives.’
‘Who is she?’
‘Kathleen Brennan. We need to get to Wye straight away.’
‘How do you know that this woman is his accomplice?’
‘Because I saw her riding towards Ashford earlier on,’ said Leeming, ‘and now I realise why. I never expected to hear myself say this, Inspector, but I think that we should take a train.’
Kathleen Brennan bustled around the tiny bedroom and gathered up her belongings. She put them in a large wicker basket, threw her clothes over her arm then went down the bare wooden stairs. Gregory Newman was sitting in a chair, brooding on what he had done. Putting everything down on the table, Kathleen went over to comfort him.
‘It had to be done,’ she said, ‘and it was what your wife wanted.’
‘I know, Kathy, but it still hurt me.’ He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Strange, isn’t it? I killed three people I hated and all I felt was pleasure and satisfaction. It’s only when I smother someone I loved that I feel like a murderer.’
‘It was no life for her, Gregory. It was a blessed release.’
‘For Meg, maybe – but not for me.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because I feel so
guilty
.’
He put his head in his hands. Kneeling beside him, Kathleen coiled an arm around his shoulders and kissed him on the temple. After a while, he looked up and tried to shake off his feelings of remorse. He pulled her on to his lap and embraced her warmly.
‘Thank you, Kathy,’ he said.
‘This is what we both wanted, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
‘You always said that we’d be together one day and now we are.’
‘I didn’t expect it to happen like this,’ he said. ‘I thought that Meg would have died long ago but she clung on and on. It would have been so much easier if she could have passed away by now.’
‘I had to warn you,’ she insisted. ‘Sergeant Leeming frightened me with his questions. How on earth did he know that I was involved?’
‘He didn’t but he found his way out here somehow. That was a danger signal, Kathy. You were right to come to me.
‘He mentioned an Inspector Colbeck.’
‘Damn the man!’ said Newman. ‘He’s behind all this. He dug away until he unearthed things that I never thought he’d find. Because he was getting closer all the time, I shot him last night. I hoped I’d killed him.’
‘It didn’t sound like it.’
‘Then we must get far away from here, Kathy. It’s only a matter of time before they work out that I murdered Joe Dykes
and the others.’
‘Joe got his deserts for what he did to me,’ she said, harshly. ‘If you’d given me that cleaver, I’d have killed him myself.’ She grinned. ‘You should have seen the look in his eye when I brought him out of the Red Lion. By the time we got to the wood, he was panting for me.’
‘Making him undress like that made such a difference,’ he recalled. ‘All that I had to do was to carve him up.’ He kissed her full on the lips. ‘I couldn’t have done it without you, Kathy.’
‘Or without Nathan.’
‘He was just where we needed him.’
‘When I saw what he was doing, I had no qualms about letting him take the blame. I looked on her as my own daughter and Nathan was—’
‘Yes, yes,’ she interrupted. ‘You paid him back.’
‘I paid them all back,’ he said, proudly.
‘And now we can be together at last.’
As they hugged each other again, Robert Colbeck opened the door. He doffed his hat and he stepped into the room. They sprang apart.
‘You shouldn’t leave the windows open,’ warned Colbeck. ‘It only encourages eavesdropping.’
‘What are
you
doing here?’ gasped Newman, getting to his feet.
‘I’ve come to arrest the pair of you.’
‘I thought that I shot you.’
‘You tried to, Mr Newman, but your aim was poor. You’ll pardon me if I don’t turn my back and let you have a second attempt with a piece of wire. I know that’s your preferred method.’ He looked at Kathleen. ‘My name is Inspector
Colbeck. I believe that you met my Sergeant earlier.’
‘Kathy is nothing to do with this,’ insisted Newman.
‘Then why did she ride to Ashford to warn you?’ asked Colbeck. ‘Sergeant Leeming saw her from the train. Your foreman told me that a young woman with red hair came for you in the boiler shop.’ He saw Newman eyeing the open door. ‘And before you decide to bolt again, I should warn you that the Sergeant is outside with Constable Butterkiss.’