Blood on the Line irc-8 Read online

  ‘Mrs Colbeck is over here,’ called Finn, raising a hand.

  ‘She’s just run away,’ added Libby.

  ‘We know her and her husband well.’

  There was a commotion as Riley barged his way uncaringly through the passengers. Colbeck and Leeming followed him. When they reached the Finns, Riley asked them to identify themselves and they did so readily. Finn explained that he and Libby had befriended the Colbecks on the voyage and found them a charming couple.

  ‘You were grossly misled, sir,’ said Colbeck, stepping forward. ‘Since you know what they both look like, we’ll need your help to find this putative charming couple.’

  ‘Nobody is to leave the ship without producing their passports!’ bellowed Riley. ‘Every document will be checked at the gangplank by my men. Please disembark in an orderly fashion.’

  Police reinforcements had now come on board to cluster around the entrance to the gangplank. The passengers were mystified but at least they could now begin to make their way off the ship. As the first trickle went down the gangplank, the search began in earnest behind them. Riley stayed close to Herschel Finn while Colbeck and Leeming kept Libby in tow. Unaware of what their shipboard friends had done, the Americans were nevertheless more than ready to help the police find them. In spite of their repeated questions, the captain and the two detectives refused to say why they were so anxious to find the missing passengers. The search was thorough. They could move about freely. Now that everyone was vacating the vessel, all the doors had been left unlocked. Apart from a few members of the crew, the areas below deck were empty. Feet clattering on the timber, the search party seemed to be walking through a hollow.

  They opened cabin doors, looked under bunks and searched inside cupboards. Leeming soon wearied of the chase.

  ‘This is worse than hide-and-seek,’ he moaned.

  ‘They’re here somewhere,’ said Colbeck, looking in every corner. ‘They can’t possibly have left the vessel.’

  ‘Then where are they, Inspector?’

  By way of an answer, a woman’s shrill scream was heard at the other end of a passageway. The detectives hurried along it with Libby waddling behind them. They discovered that Irene had been found hiding in the cupboard of what had been their cabin. Finn identified her. With a surge of energy, she tried to break away from Riley’s grasp but it was like iron.

  ‘Take your hands off me!’ she shouted. ‘I’ve done nothing wrong. Mr and Mrs Finn will vouch for me. My name is Irene Colbeck and I demand to be treated with respect.’

  ‘Oh, we’ll treat you with the greatest respect,’ said Colbeck, doffing his hat as he entered the cabin. ‘Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Inspector Robert Colbeck of Scotland Yard and I’d like to discuss the misappropriation of my name.’

  Irene was transfixed. ‘You’re Inspector Colbeck?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Adnam, and this is Sergeant Leeming.’ He stood back so that Leeming could step forward. ‘We were friends and colleagues of Constable Peebles. Need I say more?’ Irene began to gibber. ‘Now tell us where Oxley is and we can put an end to this whole business.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she cried. ‘I don’t know where Jerry is.’

  ‘Then we’ll search until we find him.’

  ‘Is he armed?’ asked Leeming.

  ‘Yes,’ replied Irene. ‘He has a gun.’

  ‘So have I, Miss Adnam,’ said Colbeck, tapping the weapon beneath his coat, ‘but I sincerely hope that there’ll be no need to use it. We’ve had enough killing as it is.’

  ‘I wish someone would tell us what’s going on,’ said Finn.

  ‘Yes,’ said Libby, ‘it’s all so confusing.’

  ‘You’re helping us to find two dangerous criminals, sir,’ said Colbeck with gratitude. ‘One is now in custody. Since the other is armed, it might be safer if you and your wife stay here with Captain Riley.’

  ‘Will you be able to recognise the rogue on your own?’ asked Riley, slipping a pair of handcuffs onto Irene’s wrist.

  ‘Oh, I think so. ‘I’ve never actually seen him but I’m sure I’ll know him straight away when I clap eyes on him.’

  ‘Be careful, Inspector!’ warned Libby.

  She was horrified to hear that the amiable man she’d known as Robert Colbeck possessed a gun. Finn, however, was driven by curiosity as much as bravado and offered to accompany Colbeck and Leeming.

  ‘That won’t be necessary, Mr Finn,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘Leave this to us, sir,’ advised Leeming. ‘We came three thousand miles for the pleasure of capturing Jeremy Oxley.’

  ‘Oxley?’ Finn blinked. ‘I thought his name was Robert Colbeck.’

  ‘Not anymore, it isn’t,’ said Colbeck with asperity.

  ‘What will happen to Irene?’ wondered Libby.

  ‘She’ll remain in police custody until her partner in crime is arrested,’ said Riley. ‘Then the pair of them will go back to England to face the death sentence.’

  Irene fainted. Riley was just in time to catch her. He put her gently down on one of the bunks. Hovering uncertainly, Finn and Libby did not know whether to pity or condemn her. They were shaken by the thought that they’d been taken in so easily by Irene and her supposed husband. Libby was the first to speak.

  ‘I knew that there was something odd about them,’ she claimed.

  ‘So did I,’ said Finn.

  ‘That’s not true, Herschel. You thought they were such nice people. They fooled you completely.’

  ‘Hey, now that’s not fair, Libby.’

  Colbeck and Leeming did not stop to hear the marital dispute. They were already making a systematic search of the places they’d not yet visited. It was tiring work. The Arethusa was a large and capacious three-masted vessel, though lacking the refinements of the Jura. The problem was that there were far too many hiding places and there was always the danger that Oxley was moving from one to another as they closed in on him. Leeming began to lose patience but Colbeck was convinced they’d find their man in the end. He kept one hand on the weapon holstered at his side. When they’d exhausted almost every other possibility, they went down into the very bowels of the ship to the quarters occupied by the crew.

  With a low ceiling of oak beams and only rudimentary facilities, the quarters stretched across the width of the ship. Since they were below the waterline, there was no natural light. The detectives were compelled to remove their top hats before they could move forward. Colbeck grabbed a lantern that dangled from a hook and held it up. As it pierced the gloom, it revealed an array of bunks and hammocks in close proximity. Leeming was disappointed.

  ‘Another dead end,’ he groaned.

  Colbeck raised a hand to silence him, then he lifted the lantern higher and went off to take a closer look at the quarters. As his eyes adjusted to the half-dark, he could see the privations that the crew endured while the passengers travelled in relative comfort. Colbeck stopped in his tracks. Somebody was there. He could neither see nor hear anybody but he was certain that he was not alone. Slipping a hand under his coat, he removed the pistol from its holster and held it in readiness. When he inched forward, he did so with slow, quiet, deliberate footsteps. He did not get far. His toe suddenly stubbed against something and he looked down to see the dead body of a man splayed out on the floor. The corpse was almost naked and smeared with blood.

  ‘Over here!’ he called.

  ‘What have you found, sir?’ asked Leeming, coming forward until he saw the body. ‘Is that Oxley?’

  ‘No,’ said Colbeck. ‘It’s a member of the crew.’

  He held the lantern low so they could see that the man’s skull had been smashed to a pulp. Behind the body was a pile of discarded clothing of a kind that looked incongruous in the crew’s quarters. There was a well-cut frock coat, fashionable trousers, a silk waistcoat, a cravat and a pair of patent leather shoes. An abandoned top hat completed the outfit. Colbeck assessed the situation at once.

  ‘Oxley has disguised himself as a m
ember of the crew,’ he said in exasperation. ‘He’s probably left the ship already.’

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Retirement day had left Caleb Andrews with mixed feelings. As he celebrated with other railwaymen that evening at the pub near Euston they’d made their own, he was simultaneously buoyed up with delight and afflicted with remorse. Physically, he was ready to leave a job that made such heavy demands on his time and energy. His old bones, he told them, were crying out for a rest. Emotionally, however, his ties with the footplate were too strong to be easily broken. He could simply not imagine a life without the challenge, responsibility and sheer excitement of driving a locomotive. His departure from the LNWR was thus a confused jumble of gains and losses and it was far too early to weigh them against each other.

  Over a week later, there was a more formal gathering of friends with whom he’d worked over the years. Held on a Sunday afternoon at his home, it had been organised by Madeleine who provided the refreshments. Only those who were not on duty that day were able to attend, but there were over a dozen guests crammed into the house in Camden. Men who habitually came home from work with the day’s grime on their hands, face and clothing were now in their best suits. Their faces gleamed and their hair was neatly combed. Over a drink and an unlimited supply of food, they exchanged anecdotes about Andrews and the room was filled with laughter.

  Madeleine was pleased to see how much respect they had for her father. She knew most of those present. They included Gideon Little, her most ardent admirer at one time. Promoted to the rank of driver, Little was now married and had two small children. There was no longer any embarrassment between Madeleine and him. He obviously nursed no resentment against her because she had once rejected his advances. There was a mood of general hilarity in the house. She made sure that glasses were regularly filled and more food offered as soon as anyone’s plate was empty.

  Dirk Sowerby joined her in the kitchen, his big, muscular body looking out of place in a smart suit. He accepted a cake from her.

  ‘You’ve done wonders with the food, Madeleine,’ he said.

  ‘I wanted to be part of the celebration,’ she told him, ‘and to see what his friends really think of Father.’

  ‘He’s the best driver in the LNWR.’

  She smiled. ‘That’s what he keeps telling me. Father has never been one for hiding his light under a bushel.’

  ‘We’ve had some rare old arguments, Caleb and me, but it’s always a pleasure to work alongside him. But let’s forget your father for a moment,’ he said, moving closer and lowering his voice. ‘Is it true that Inspector Colbeck sailed to America on a steamship?’

  ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘That’s always been one of my ambitions.’

  ‘Father mentioned that to me.’

  ‘To be honest, I’d wanted to run off to sea and join the navy but somehow I finished up on the railway. It’s not the same. On the other hand,’ he said with a vacuous grin, ‘it’s probably a bit safer.’

  ‘Lots of accidents happen on the railways, Mr Sowerby.’

  ‘That’s true but they’re not usually fatal. If a ship goes down in the middle of the ocean, then the chances are that everyone on board will drown. Not that that would have put me off, I hasten to say,’ he added. ‘Steamships, in particular, are less likely to founder. They’re not at the mercy of the wind and the waves in the way that a wooden sailing ship might be.’ His eye kindled. ‘How long will the inspector be away, do you think?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. It’s been well past a month so far.’

  ‘Then he could be on the way home already.’

  ‘I doubt it,’ said Madeleine. ‘He had to wait until another vessel reached New York and that was a sailing ship.’

  ‘When he does come back,’ said Sowerby, biting a piece off the cake, ‘could you ask him what it was like, please? I mean, I’d love to know in detail what sailing on a steamship is like. You could pass on the information to Caleb.’

  Andrews came into the kitchen. ‘What’s that you’re saying about me behind my back, Dirk?’

  ‘I want to learn about steamships.’

  ‘I’ll find out all I can,’ promised Madeleine.

  ‘Thank you.’

  Popping the remains of the cake into his mouth, Sowerby went back to the others. Andrews, meanwhile, helped himself to another cucumber sandwich. He nibbled at it before nodding with satisfaction.

  ‘You’ve done me proud, Maddy,’ he said.

  ‘You deserve it.’

  ‘If this is what it’s like, I’ll retire more often.’

  ‘I can’t promise to do this every Sunday,’ she said, laughing.

  ‘Everybody is saying how wonderful you look.’

  ‘It’s always nice to have compliments.’

  ‘I hope that it means you’re feeling better,’ he said, probing. ‘You’ve been very subdued this past month or so. We both know why.’

  ‘I’m fine now,’ she said, blithely.

  He put a hand under her chin. ‘Are you happy?’

  ‘I’m very happy, Father.’

  ‘Then let’s make sure we keep it that way.’

  Grabbing two more sandwiches from the table, he put them on his plate and went off to rejoin his friends. A roar of laughter greeted a comical remark he made as he entered the room. Left alone in the kitchen, Madeleine could now abandon the pretence of being happy. Having to maintain a permanent smile for their guests had taken a great effort. Behind the mask, she was worried and dispirited. She kept taunting herself with memories of disasters that had taken place at sea and feared for Colbeck’s life. What irked her was that there was no way to verify his safe arrival in New York or to confirm that he’d managed to capture the two fugitives without being injured.

  She spared a thought for Estelle Leeming, having to cope alone with two children while her husband was out of the country, but at least the Leemings had married and started a family. She and Colbeck had taken neither of those life-changing steps. If anything happened to him, all that she would have to remember him by were a series of pleasant reminiscences. Madeleine yearned for something more. But the main cause of her discontent was the comment he’d made before they parted. Colbeck vowed to explain everything once the case was closed. Until then, he was devoting all of his attention to it and she was the loser as a result. What was it about the investigation that made it so important to him? Why had he not confided in her?

  Madeleine kept repeating the questions until a head peeped around the door of the kitchen. Gideon Little gave a hopeful smile.

  ‘Is there any chance of another slice of that cake, please?’

  The haul was astounding. Oxley may have escaped but he’d left his luggage behind him. In a room at police headquarters, Colbeck and Leeming had been assisted by Matt Riley as they went through the respective cabin trunks and valises belonging to Oxley and Irene. Booty of all types came to light. They laid it out on a table.

  ‘I’ll wager that some of this belonged to other passengers on the Arethusa,’ said Colbeck, dangling a gold watch. ‘This is the sixth one I’ve found. Nobody needs that many watches unless they’re planning to sell them to a pawnbroker.’

  ‘Look at this,’ said Leeming, extracting some jewellery from the lining of a trunk. ‘What a clever hiding place!’

  ‘Some of this property can be returned to its rightful owners,’ announced Riley. ‘I’ll have an advertisement put in the newspapers. If people can prove that it’s theirs, they deserve it back.’

  ‘You have to be careful, Captain. Whenever we advertise lost property, we always get lots of false claimants.’

  ‘It’s the same here, Sergeant. We once recovered six pairs of expensive dancing pumps. The first man through the door swore blind that they were his and begged us to hand them over.’

  ‘And did you?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ replied Riley, chortling. ‘We figured he might be lying when we noticed he only had one leg.’

  When everything w
as arranged on the table, Colbeck did a quick estimate of its value and realised that, if this reflected their lifestyle, Oxley and Irene had a sizeable amount of capital at their disposal. It was no wonder that they could afford the luxuries of life. Irene was in a police cell at the other end of the corridor but Oxley remained at liberty. News of his escape had been carried in all the newspapers. A manhunt was taking place in New York. Riley was confident that his men would find the fugitive but Leeming was less optimistic.

  ‘He’s like a will-o’-the-wisp,’ he said.

  ‘We’ll catch him,’ insisted Riley.

  ‘He could be in another city now, if not in another state.’

  ‘No, Victor,’ said Colbeck after consideration, ‘I’m certain that Oxley is still in New York.’

  ‘What makes you say that, sir?’

  ‘I don’t think he’d desert his accomplice. After all, Irene Adnam was the person who rescued him from that train. He owes her a great deal. Even someone as ruthless as Oxley wouldn’t be able to walk away from that kind of obligation. He’ll be determined to free her.’

  ‘There’s no hope in hell of that while she’s here,’ said Riley. ‘At all times, there’ll be at least twenty men between him and the cell she’s being held in. Oxley is helpless against the New York Police Department.’

  ‘Then we have to make it easier for him, Captain.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘We need to bait a trap. We’ll never catch him otherwise. He’s far too slippery. Since we can’t get to him,’ said Colbeck, stroking his chin meditatively, ‘we have to devise a way to bring him to us.’

  ‘You have an idea,’ said Leeming, approvingly. ‘I know that tone of voice, Inspector.’

  ‘It might work and it might not.’

  ‘What’s the plan?’ asked Riley.