Peril on the Royal Train Page 5

  Farr wrinkled his nose at the whisky fumes. Relieved that his father was not in an abusive mood, he was anxious to go off to bed but he was held in an iron grasp and had to stay where he was. When the father put his face even closer, the son could smell the whisky on his breath more clearly.

  ‘There’s been an awfu’ crash on the railway,’ continued the older man. ‘The line is covered wi’ broken wagons and the like. Ye must have heerd tell of it.’

  ‘No,’ said Farr, guardedly. ‘This is the first word I’ve had of it.’

  ‘Well, it will make someone rich.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘There’s a reward, lad,’ said the father, slapping him on the back. ‘That’s the news I brought back for ye. Some villain caused the accident, so he did, and they want to see the devil hanged until every breeth of life is squeezed out o’ him. If anyone can tell them who the rogue is, he’ll be four hundred pounds better off.’

  Farr was astounded. ‘How much did ye say?’

  ‘The reward is four hundred pounds. Rab Logan says there are handbills.’

  ‘I’d like to see one.’

  ‘Aye, so would I, Jamie. And I’d love to get ma hands on that money.’ He rubbed his palms together. ‘Just think what we could do wi’ a fortune like that.’

  Farr was already thinking the same thing. When he was finally able to go off to bed, he spent a sleepless night. The reward was more than an enticement. It would buy him a whole new life and rescue him from the domination of his father. There had to be a way of earning the money and there would be the additional pleasure of taking it from a railway company he loathed. It was not only a reward. It was compensation for all the animals killed or maimed on the line. That was why Farr deserved it.

  CHAPTER SIX

  After spending the night at a wayside inn, the detectives rose early so that they could discuss their plans over breakfast. They sat either side of a rickety table in a dank room with an uneven paved floor. A haunting aroma of beer flirted with their nostrils. Leeming chewed his way disconsolately through a bowl of cold porridge but Colbeck actually enjoyed the fare. It was very different from the sort of breakfast that he and Madeleine shared every morning and had the appeal of novelty. Leeming missed his wife’s cooking. At the same time, he was determined not to be distracted by fond thoughts of his family. He could only savour their company, he reminded himself, when the case was solved. That, however, was a distant prospect.

  ‘How long will we be here, Inspector?’ he asked.

  ‘We’ll do what we always do, Victor, and stay until the bitter end.’

  ‘Can you see any hope on the horizon?’

  ‘I’m always hopeful,’ said Colbeck with a grin. ‘Optimism aids digestion.’

  Leeming indicated his bowl. ‘I can’t digest this, sir.’

  ‘It’s a good, honest, nourishing meal.’

  ‘I find it hard to swallow. It’s nothing like the porridge my wife makes.’

  ‘You’ll acquire a taste for it in time.’

  ‘Don’t they serve any real food?’

  Pushing his bowl aside, he looked down at the sketch that Colbeck had drawn of the accident. It showed the exact point of collision. There was a sheer rock face to one side of the track and an embankment to the other. Colbeck had even made a note of the estimated speed at which the goods train had been travelling. Met by a wall of solid rock as it rounded the bend, it had bounced off the track and rolled helplessly down the embankment.

  ‘Now that we’ve been to the spot,’ said Colbeck, studying his handiwork, ‘I can see why it was chosen. The crucial factor is its isolation. No witnesses would have been there to see or to interfere. The person or persons we’re after are clearly familiar with that stretch of line.’

  ‘If gunpowder was used, where did they get it?’

  ‘It could have come from the quarry.’

  ‘Were there any reports of gunpowder being stolen from there?’

  ‘None, according to Mr Craig.’

  ‘Then it must have been obtained elsewhere.’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ said Colbeck, musing. ‘There’s always the possibility that the culprit had an accomplice who worked at the quarry and who could spirit some gunpowder away without being noticed.’

  ‘Do you want me to visit the place?’ asked Leeming.

  ‘Not at this stage, Victor. You’ve a more important task today. I’m sending you up to Glasgow. That’s where the Caledonian has its headquarters.’

  ‘What do I do up there, sir?’

  ‘Find out as much as you can about the three men who were killed. Look into their private lives. If someone had a strong enough grudge against one of them,’ said Colbeck, ‘he might be ready to sacrifice two other lives to get his revenge.’

  ‘And what will you be doing while I’m away?’

  ‘I’ll have the dubious pleasure of working with Superintendent McTurk.’

  ‘His only interest is working against us.’

  ‘He’s an obstructive individual, I know, and he’s learnt nothing since the last time we crossed swords with him. Yet he does have knowledge that we need, so we have to suffer his shortcomings.’

  ‘Shortcomings!’ cried Leeming. ‘The man is a menace in uniform. I didn’t like him the first time we met him. He’s even worse now.’

  ‘Then you’ll be glad to escape his company for a day,’ said Colbeck. ‘I’ll have to cope with both of them alone.’

  ‘Both of them?’

  ‘You’re forgetting Inspector Rae, sent at the behest of the procurator fiscal. Didn’t you notice how many times McTurk worked the man’s name into the conversation? He was letting us know that he and the inspector are birds of the same feather. Neither of them has any time at all for us.’

  ‘Do they hate us simply because we’re English?’

  ‘That’s part of it,’ said Colbeck. ‘Study their history and it’s understandable. But their antagonism is also grounded in fear. They’re terrified that we’ll solve the case and show them how it’s done.’

  Leeming shrugged. ‘Does it matter who catches the villains as long as they’re actually caught?’

  ‘It matters to them, Victor. It matters a great deal.’

  ‘In a situation like this, we should all pull together.’

  ‘Ideally, that’s what will happen in due course. But that kind of cooperation may take a long time to achieve. Anyway,’ Colbeck went on, picking up the sketch, ‘let’s get to work. I’ll tackle Inspector Rae and McTurk while you enjoy a rare experience.’

  ‘What kind of rare experience?’ asked Leeming, worriedly.

  ‘You’re going to climb Beattock Bank. That involves a ten-mile ascent into rough country between the Lowther Hills and the heights of Tweedsmuir. How they coped with the steep gradient is a marvel of engineering. I envy you the trip.’

  ‘Then why not make it instead of me?’

  ‘My place is on the crash site,’ said Colbeck, ‘but I’ll be interested to know how you fare on the Bank. You’ll pick up the train at the hamlet of Beattock and have the combined power of two locomotives to pull you up to the summit.’

  Leeming was uneasy. ‘I’m not sure that I like the sound of that, sir.’

  ‘A seasoned traveller like you will love it. When you reach the peak, you’ll have a spectacular view before the train plunges down again.’ Rising to his feet, he glanced at his sketch again. ‘I wish that my dear wife were here,’ he said with affection. ‘I have no skill with a pencil. Madeleine is the artist in the family. She could have made the scene come alive on paper.’

  Madeleine Colbeck was working at the easel in her new studio. It was so much easier to pursue her career as an artist now that she had a much bigger room with far more natural light flooding into it. Her subject, as always, was the railway and she was conjuring yet another locomotive into being on the canvas. When she heard the doorbell ring, she broke off immediately, knowing that it would be her father. Putting her brush aside, she wiped her h
ands on a damp cloth and left the room. By the time she got to the bottom of the stairs, her visitor had been admitted and shown into the drawing room. Madeleine gave him a kiss of welcome.

  Caleb Andrews looked around the spacious, well-appointed room in awe.

  ‘I still can’t believe that a daughter of mine can live in a place like this,’ he said. ‘It must be five or six times the size of our little house in Camden Town.’

  ‘Don’t exaggerate, Father.’

  ‘It’s true. I just wish that your mother had lived to see it.’

  ‘So do I,’ she said, waving him to a chair then sitting opposite him.

  ‘A servant to open the door and a cook to make your meals – it’s a different world from the one I know. But you deserve it, Maddy. You look at home here.’

  ‘To be honest, I still find it rather overwhelming. Robert inherited the house from his parents so is quite used to living under this roof. After all this time, I still feel like a guest here. I have to keep pinching myself.’

  The Westminster residence was in John Islip Street and it had an elegance and luxury she’d never known before. Madeleine had lived happily at the family home in Camden where she was born but had now realised how cramped and utilitarian it had been. Andrews lived there alone but a hired servant came in regularly to perform menial tasks and offer him some company. Not that Andrews was a lonely man. Now that he’d retired after a lifetime’s service as an engine driver on the London and North Western Railway, he kept himself busy and had a wide circle of friends. Nothing pleased him more than to spend an evening at a pub near Euston frequented by railwaymen. It allowed him to wallow in nostalgia and to brag about his daughter. He was a short, sharp-featured, sinewy man in his late fifties with a fringe beard taking on an increasingly snowy hue.

  ‘You’re like me, Maddy,’ he declared. ‘We can do anything we set our minds to. It’s a gift.’

  ‘I disagree. There are lots of things I’d love to be able to do but I just can’t get the hang of them somehow.’ Lowering her voice, she glanced towards the door. ‘Giving orders to servants is one example. And there are lots of others.’

  ‘You’re the most capable young woman I know.’

  ‘I don’t always feel capable, Father. Anyway,’ she continued, ‘I didn’t ask you to call in so that we could discuss my failings. I wanted to tell you about Robert’s latest case.’

  ‘Your note said that he’d gone to Scotland – whatever for?’

  ‘He was needed there.’

  ‘His place is beside his wife in London.’

  ‘You won’t think that when you hear what’s happened.’

  Madeleine gave him the few details she possessed about the disaster on the Caledonian Railway and her father listened open-mouthed. As a former railwayman, Andrews had great sympathy for anyone killed in the course of his duties and, over the years, he’d been to the funerals of a number of colleagues who’d died as a result of serious accidents on the line. In this case, however, the deaths were not accidental. His ire was roused immediately.

  ‘I’d like to drive an express train over the villains who did this,’ he said, vengefully. ‘It’s more than a crime, it’s sheer wickedness.’

  ‘They’ll get their punishment in a court of law.’

  ‘Hanging is too good for them.’

  ‘Robert was horrified when he first heard what had happened. Superintendent Tallis didn’t want him to go to Scotland but Robert insisted. He was right to do so,’ she said, ‘even though it means that he may be away for a long time.’

  ‘Why didn’t you go with him?’

  ‘How could I?’

  ‘You’re Mrs Colbeck now, aren’t you?’ he argued. ‘And it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve helped him in his work.’

  ‘I’d only be a hindrance, Father. Beside, any assistance I’ve been able to give has been unofficial. Scotland Yard would never have approved.’

  ‘Then you make sure that they don’t know, Maddy. Keep everything secret. I’ve got a better idea,’ he said, warming to the notion. ‘You can go to Scotland and I’ll come with you.’

  ‘We can’t do that.’

  ‘What’s stopping us? We might be able to offer valuable help.’

  ‘Robert would be embarrassed if we suddenly rolled up out of the blue.’

  ‘No, he wouldn’t,’ he retorted. ‘You’re his wife and I’m his father-in-law. He’d probably be pleased to see the pair of us. He was delighted when we turned up unexpectedly in Exeter last autumn. We’ll get the same welcome this time.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she said, firmly. ‘I know him far better than you do. When and if he ever needs us, Robert will send for us. Until then, all that we can do is to watch and wait.’ There was a tap on the door and a servant entered. ‘Now, then,’ she went on. ‘What would you like in the way of refreshment?’

  Andrews grinned. ‘Two train tickets to Scotland.’

  Inspector Malclom Rae was a tall, slender, well-dressed man in his forties with an almost permanent smile hovering around his lips. Where McTurk was inclined to bluster, Rae was softly spoken and approachable. His manner was pleasant and confiding. When he shook the man’s hand, Colbeck felt that he could have a proper conversation with him based on mutual respect. Rae, however, wanted to clarify something.

  ‘Tell me, Inspector,’ he said in a lilting Edinburgh accent, ‘how would you feel if I came to London to solve a crime that occurred on the railway there?’

  ‘I’d feel justifiably annoyed,’ admitted Colbeck.

  ‘Then you understand my position perfectly.’

  ‘If, however, you’d been summoned by the relevant railway company, then I’d accept you had a legitimate right to carry out an investigation. I wouldn’t like it but I’d acknowledge the company’s decision to retain your services.’

  ‘Good,’ said Rae. ‘We now know where we stand with each other.’

  The smile blossomed for a second before fading gently away. They were standing at the crash site and the clearance work was continuing noisily all around them. Nairn Craig was pacing anxiously up and down in the background, haranguing some of the rescue crew and wondering when the line would be finally open again. The two detectives reviewed the situation. Rae had clearly been listening to McTurk. When he talked about his instinctive response to the tragedy, he agreed with the superintendent that commercial rivalry lay at the root of the outrage. All too aware of the skulduggery practised by rival companies in England, Colbeck was amazed at the lengths that some Scottish companies had gone to in order to gain an advantage over their competitors. Intimidation, vandalism, vicious fare-cutting and violence had all been used but, so far, nothing on the scale of the crash.

  ‘How will the Caledonian respond?’ asked Colbeck.

  ‘That’s for Mr Craig to decide.’

  ‘Would he feel obliged to strike back at the company he feels is responsible?’

  ‘I’m sure that the notion would have some appeal to him,’ said Rae, ‘but he’s sensible enough to know that you cannot atone for one criminal act with another.’

  ‘Yet, from what you’ve told me, the Caledonian has already committed criminal acts in pursuit of its ambitions.’

  ‘Nothing conclusive has been proved, Inspector. But those of us aware of the antics of railway companies north of the border know that every one of them has sailed close to the wind.’

  ‘That’s a strange metaphor to use of a land-based mode of transport.’

  Rae laughed. ‘Yes, I suppose that it was ill-chosen.’ He became more businesslike. ‘What do you propose to do next?’

  ‘I’ll endeavour not to tread on your toes, Inspector.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘It shouldn’t be difficult to keep out of each other’s way,’ said Colbeck. ‘For the most part, I suspect, we’ll be looking in different places.’

  ‘But sharing any evidence we unearth, I trust.’

  ‘That goes without saying.’

  ‘I
believe that it has to be said,’ insisted Rae. ‘According to Superintendent McTurk, you have a habit of keeping things to yourself. That, at least, was his experience when you worked together on a previous occasion.’

  ‘Don’t rely too much on the superintendent’s powers of recall,’ said Colbeck, brusquely. ‘They are coloured by the fact that he was given a sharp rebuke by his employers when I exposed the derelictions of the men working under him. McTurk did nothing to advance that particular investigation. I hope that he will be more supportive in this one.’

  ‘I find him a source of useful information.’

  ‘Then we must both tap into it.’

  ‘I’m glad that we agree on that.’

  In other circumstances, Colbeck felt that he could like Rae and the latter clearly had a grudging admiration for the feats of the Railway Detective. Geography divided them. An English detective was investigating a crime in Scotland. Inevitably, he was seen as an interloper. The relationship between the two men would never cross the border into anything stronger than professional respect.

  They were still discussing their plans when Nairn Craig came over to them.

  ‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ he said, receiving their greetings in return. ‘I have one piece of cheering news for you. The cause of the fatal accident was so obvious that the railway inspector, Major Kean, has already completed his report. Neither of you will be bothered by him.’

  ‘That’s a relief,’ said Rae.

  ‘Yes,’ added Colbeck. ‘Two inspectors are enough for any investigation. A third would take us into the realms of overcrowding.’

  ‘What about the sheriff?’

  ‘He wants to be kept abreast of developments at every stage,’ said Craig. ‘Apart from anything else, he holds a lot of shares in the Caledonian. But I can see why you asked that question, Inspector. You wanted to know if the sheriff was likely to impede your inquiry. He gave me his word that he would not do so and,’ he went on with a glance at Colbeck, ‘he was thrilled to hear that we’d called you in.’

  ‘I’m glad that somebody other than you feels that I have a place here,’ said Colbeck. ‘It may take longer to convince most people of my usefulness.’