Blood on the Line irc-8 Read online

  ‘For the moment, you can just watch and wait.’

  ‘The superintendent explained the background to the case and I read the reports in this morning’s newspapers. According to one of them, Jeremy Oxley is a will-o’-the-wisp.’

  ‘Don’t believe everything you read in the press, Constable. They are often unjustly critical of us. Above all else, don’t talk to any journalists. They’ll twist your words to their own advantage.’

  ‘Och, man, I found that out when I was in uniform.’

  ‘Where were you based?’

  ‘In K Division at first,’ said Peebles. ‘That’s in Barking. It’s a very rough district. I was later moved to A Division.’

  Leeming was impressed. ‘That’s Hyde Park Police Station,’ he noted. ‘We’d all like to have worked there. It was a kind of promotion for you. What did you do to earn it?’

  ‘I made one or two significant arrests,’ said Peebles, modestly. ‘I enjoyed my time in A Division, then I was recommended for the Detective Department.’

  ‘You were lucky,’ said Leeming. ‘My days in uniform were spent in the worst parts of London, the kinds of places where police are very unpopular.’

  Peebles stood to attention. ‘I didn’t join the police in search of popularity,’ he declared as if taking an oath. ‘All that matters to me is that we sweep the streets clean of villainy. London is the greatest city in the world. It deserves to be purged of crime.’

  ‘You’ve been listening to Superintendent Tallis.’

  ‘I think he’s an inspiration – don’t you?’

  ‘In some ways,’ said Leeming, hiding his true feelings.

  ‘But then the same could be said of you and Inspector Colbeck.’

  ‘We do our job to the best of our ability, no more, no less.’

  ‘The superintendent told me that you’re his best men.’

  ‘Really?’

  It was a surprise to Leeming, who got a continuous string of complaints from Tallis, often couched in unflattering language. It was the same for Colbeck. There was an underlying tension between the superintendent and him that prevented Tallis from giving anything but the most reluctant praise to the Railway Detective. Yet behind their backs, it transpired, the superintendent was lauding them. Leeming was annoyed that he was prepared to confide in a detective who was effectively on probation while saying nothing to the two people about whom he was talking. In Leeming’s view, Tallis was a different breed of dog. If Peebles was a tail-wagging retriever, the superintendent was a terrier barking incessantly at their heels.

  They were in Colbeck’s office and Peebles was diverted by some of the posters on the walls. They listed wanted criminals and the rewards that were on offer. He peered intently at them.

  ‘That’s one of the things I admire most about you and the inspector,’ he said, turning to face Leeming. ‘You never rely on informers or people in search of a reward. You solve your cases by hard work and deduction.’

  ‘It may be true up to a point,’ conceded Leeming. ‘I provide the hard work and the inspector supplies the deduction. But we take help from anyone we can. Inspector Colbeck is a great believer in picking up something useful wherever he can find it. He has a word for it.’

  ‘Serendipity.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right – serendipity.’

  ‘I think there’s far more to it than that,’ argued Peebles. ‘I’ve kept a scrapbook of your cases, you see. I cut out newspaper reports of them and paste them in. It’s taught me a lot about your methods.’

  Leeming was uneasy. ‘Has it?’

  ‘Look at that train robbery, for instance. You were so thorough. You dealt with the railway company, the post office, the Royal Mint, a bank in Birmingham, a lock manufacturer in the Black Country and you infiltrated the Great Exhibition to make your first arrests.’ He grinned with frank adoration. ‘It was brilliant detective work.’

  ‘One thing led to another,’ explained Leeming.

  ‘You got through an immense amount of work between you.’

  ‘That’s certainly true.’

  ‘Then there was the severed head found on Crewe station.’

  ‘You don’t need to remind me of that.’

  ‘How on earth did Inspector Colbeck know that there was a connection with the forthcoming Derby? He even sailed off to Ireland at one point.’

  ‘He was acting on a sixth sense. It’s what he always does.’

  ‘Well, I don’t have that gift.’

  ‘Neither do I, Constable.’

  ‘The case that really intrigued me was the one that took you and the inspector to France. It all began when someone was killed on a train then hurled off the Sankey Viaduct. In fact—’

  ‘Let me stop you there,’ said Leeming, interrupting with both hands raised. ‘This may surprise you but we never look back at old investigations. We always have our hands full with new ones.’

  Peebles was astonished. ‘You don’t keep a scrapbook?’

  ‘It would never cross my mind.’

  ‘But you should have a record of your triumphs.’

  ‘I’m not that vain, Constable.’

  ‘I keep a list of every suspect I’ve questioned and every arrest I’ve made,’ said Peebles. ‘Not that I’ve handled the sort of complex cases that you and the inspector do, of course. I’m still a raw beginner.’ He rubbed his hands. ‘I can’t wait to join the hunt for Oxley and his accomplice. When we catch them,’ he went on, face shining and buck teeth aglow, ‘we’ll have wonderful press cuttings. If you don’t wish to record your successes, I’ll happily do so.’

  Leeming groaned inwardly. While they were involved in a difficult case, the last thing they needed was a self-appointed recording angel like Ian Peebles. Their every move would be enshrined in his scrapbook. It would make them far too self-conscious to do their job properly. Leeming was so alarmed at the prospect that he made a silent wish.

  ‘Come back soon, Inspector Colbeck – I need you.’

  Colbeck had never been in a cotton mill before and he found the noise deafening. Ambrose Holte, the mill owner, occupied a large, almost palatial office that was insulated against the pandemonium. When Colbeck explained why he was there, Holte was more than ready to help. He was a beefy man of middle years with a pallid face and white hair that had retreated to the rear of his head like so much foam left on a beach by the receding tide. He had a strong Lancashire accent and a habit of keeping one thumb in his waistcoat pocket as he spoke.

  ‘Yes, I remember Irene Adnam very well,’ he said with rancour. ‘She robbed us of items worth hundreds of pounds.’

  ‘Female burglars are rare, thankfully.’

  ‘She didn’t break into the house, Inspector. She was already there, working as a governess to my youngest daughter.’

  ‘When did you begin to suspect her?’ asked Colbeck.

  ‘We never did,’ said Holte, ‘that was the trouble. She wormed her way into our affections until we trusted her completely. Alicia, whom she taught, doted on her.’

  ‘Did she come to you with good references?’

  ‘They were excellent, Inspector. It was only after she’d left that we learnt that they were forgeries. When the police tried to find the various addresses, they discovered that none of them existed.’

  ‘How would you describe Miss Adnam?’

  Holte snorted. ‘I think she’s the most loathsome, duplicitous, black-hearted creature on God’s earth.’

  ‘You’re saying that with the advantage of hindsight,’ Colbeck reminded him. ‘Try to remember how she struck you when she first came for interview. What made you choose Irene Adnam?’

  ‘It was sheer folly!’

  ‘You didn’t think so at the time.’

  ‘No, Inspector,’ admitted Holte, jowls wobbling. ‘That’s correct. She seemed ideal for the position. Not to put too fine a point on it, I was beguiled by the cunning little vixen.’

  Holte gave a clear and detailed description of Irene Adnam and she began to
take on more definition in Colbeck’s mind. Her work as a governess had been above reproach and she had stayed long enough in Holte’s employ to become an auxiliary member of his family, taking her meals with them and joining them at church on Sundays. It was because he had placed such trust in her that Holte was so embittered when she turned out to be a thief.

  ‘What exactly did she steal?’ asked Colbeck.

  ‘She emptied my wallet and took some of my wife’s jewellery. But the bulk of the haul consisted of small items of silver. They’d be fairly light to carry and easy to sell to a pawnbroker.’

  ‘Oh, I think that Miss Adnam might have higher ambitions than relying on a pawnbroker. If she’s the seasoned criminal she appears,’ said Colbeck, ‘she’d probably deal with a fence who’d offer better terms. I don’t think she’d steal anything unless she knew exactly where she could get a good price for it.’

  ‘You could be right, Inspector. When I gave them a list of stolen items, the police visited nearly all the pawnbrokers in the city. They drew a blank. None of our property was recovered.’

  ‘Evidently she knew exactly what to take and when to take it.’

  ‘We were all fast asleep at the time.’

  ‘How did she know where everything was kept – your wife’s jewellery, for instance? Surely that was in a safe?’ Holte lowered his head, plainly discomfited. ‘I can’t believe that items of such value were not locked away.’

  ‘They were locked away, Inspector.’

  ‘Then how did she get her hands on them?’

  ‘Someone told her the combination.’

  Colbeck was surprised. ‘She had an accomplice on the staff?’

  ‘He was a member of the family,’ said Holte, running his tongue over dry lips. ‘Not that he realised what he was doing at the time. I’m talking about my eldest son, Lawrence. He became enamoured of Miss Adnam. I warned him against it, of course, and urged him to pay for his pleasures like a gentleman. That way they don’t infect the family home.’ He sucked his teeth. ‘But Lawrence wouldn’t listen, I fear. He fell completely under her spell. When she asked if she could leave a few valuables of her own in our safe, he duly obliged by opening it.’

  ‘And she memorised the combination while he was doing it,’ guessed Colbeck. ‘She’s a calculating young lady, no doubt about that. I can see why you’re so anxious to see her caught.’

  ‘You can imagine the embarrassment this has caused me,’ said Holte, running a hand over his forehead. ‘It’s been a heavy cross to bear. The woman is a monster. She betrayed me, stole irreplaceable items of my wife’s jewellery, broke Alicia’s heart in two and relieved Lawrence – idiot that he was – of his virginity. I’d not only pay to see her executed, Inspector,’ he growled, ‘I’d even volunteer to act as the hangman.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  Caleb Andrews had lost count of the number of times he’d brought a train safely into New Street station in Birmingham. As one set of passengers departed and another set converged on the carriages, he had time to wipe the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

  ‘I won’t be doing this for much longer,’ he announced.

  ‘You keep saying that, Caleb,’ said his fireman, ‘but I don’t believe you. The only way you’ll quit the railway is in a coffin.’

  ‘That’s what you think, Dirk.’

  ‘It’s what we all think.’

  ‘Then perhaps you should have a word with Mr Pomeroy.’

  Dirk Sowerby shrugged. ‘Why?’

  ‘I handed in my resignation earlier on today. Mr Pomeroy accepted it with regret. The decision is made. I’m going to retire and put my feet up at last.’

  The fireman was amazed. No driver in the LNWR had the same enthusiasm for railways as Andrews. It was at once a job and a passion for him. Spending each day hurtling up and down the track helped him to defy age. He seemed indefatigable. How the company would manage without such a dedicated servant was an open question. Sowerby would miss him, both for his companionship and for his fund of knowledge about the operation of the railway system. Firemen who’d been taught their trade by Caleb Andrews were uniformly grateful for his expertise.

  ‘Did you talk it over with your daughter?’ asked Sowerby.

  ‘I told her what I was going to do, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘And Maddy had no objections?’

  ‘None whatsoever, Dirk. She’s seen the early shifts and the long hours taking their toll on me.’

  ‘When is she getting married?’

  ‘Sooner rather than later,’ said Andrews with a smile. ‘It’s part of the reason I decided to retire. If I’m at home all day, it will annoy her like mad and make her set a date for the wedding at last. I’ve been waiting an eternity for that to happen.’

  ‘I thought that they only got engaged last year.’

  ‘They did – but it seems much longer to me. I don’t want Maddy hanging around for ever when I retire. Not when Inspector Colbeck has a much larger house than ours. She should move in with him.’

  Sowerby frowned. ‘Don’t you mind her marrying a detective?’

  ‘She can marry anyone she likes as long as she does it fairly soon.’ He cackled. ‘No, that’s not true,’ he said, seriously. ‘She’s found herself a good man and I couldn’t be happier with her choice.’

  ‘But he’s a policeman, Caleb.’

  ‘I don’t hold that against him.’

  ‘Have you forgotten what happened when we steamed into this station yesterday? Two policemen were left behind us on the track. They’d been murdered,’ said Sowerby, his frown deepening. ‘That tells you what a dangerous job it is.’

  ‘The inspector can take care of himself, Dirk.’

  ‘But he’s chasing the man who escaped from the policemen.’

  ‘I know and I mean to help him catch the fellow.’

  ‘This man who escaped – I think his name is Oxley – has no respect for the law or the people who try to uphold it. And there are far too many people just like him. I’d hate a daughter of mine to marry a policeman.’

  ‘You don’t have a daughter, you imbecile.’

  ‘I know,’ agreed Sowerby, ‘but if I did, I’d be afraid that she’d be a widow before too long. I hope that doesn’t happen to Maddy.’

  ‘There’s little chance of that.’

  ‘The inspector spends all his time chasing desperate criminals. It only takes one of them to fire a gun or pull a knife on him and you’ll be attending the funeral of your son-in-law.’

  ‘That’s arrant nonsense!’

  Andrews’s vehement denial masked his deep anxiety. His fireman was only airing concerns that the driver had raised with Madeleine on a number of occasions. Loving his daughter and wanting her future happiness, he was troubled by the nagging fear that Colbeck might one day lose his life in pursuit of a suspect. Madeleine had dismissed the suggestion but it remained a source of deep unease to her father. It was why he kept urging her to set a date for their wedding. If Colbeck’s career in Scotland Yard was indeed to be foreshortened by disaster, Andrews wanted his daughter to have as full a taste of married bliss as possible. After years of waiting, she deserved that.

  It was late evening when she heard the footsteps on the pavement outside. They did not belong to her father and, in any case, Madeleine did not expect him back until he’d repaired to the pub he routinely frequented at the end of the day. Thinking that the pedestrian would walk past the house, she was surprised when there was a knock on the door. It made her rise from the chair and cross to the window. The moment she looked out, she emitted a cry of joy and ran to open the door. Colbeck was waiting to enfold her in his arms and kiss her.

  ‘What a lovely surprise!’ she exclaimed. ‘The only time I know that it’s you is when I hear a cab drawing up outside the house.’

  ‘I made the driver stop at the end of the street this time,’ he said, ‘so that I could catch you unawares.’ He looked over her shoulder into the house. ‘Am I to be allowed i
n, Madeleine?’

  ‘Of course – nobody is more welcome.’

  Ushering him into the house, she closed the door behind them before surrendering to another embrace. Only when they parted did he take off his hat and set it aside. He glanced at her easel.

  ‘Is there anything for me to see?’ he asked.

  ‘Not until it’s finished, Robert.’

  He pointed a finger. ‘Can’t I just take a peek?’

  ‘No,’ she said, administering a playful pat on his hand. ‘You must behave yourself. An artist must not be hurried into displaying her work until she feels that it’s ready.’

  He smiled. ‘I’m glad to see that you consider yourself to be an artist now. When I first urged you to be more ambitious, you claimed that you were nothing more than a painter with moderate talent.’

  ‘My attitude changed when I first sold something.’

  ‘I knew that it would,’ he said, kissing her cheek. ‘But I can’t tarry, I’m afraid. This is only a flying visit on my way to Scotland Yard. I have to report to the superintendent.’

  She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘Will Mr Tallis be working this late?’

  ‘He’s at his desk until midnight sometimes, Madeleine. Nobody can accuse him of being lazy. He’ll sit there until I turn up and tell him what happened in Manchester.’

  ‘Is that where you went looking for Jeremy Oxley?’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘You know about the case, do you?’

  ‘I know more than you think,’ she replied. ‘By coincidence, my father was driving the train when the prisoner escaped. Be warned, Robert. He thinks that entitles him to join in the investigation.’

  ‘He always did fancy that he had the makings of a detective.’

  She was firm. ‘One detective is enough in any family.’

  Colbeck gave her an abbreviated account of his visits to Wolverhampton, Birmingham and Manchester. He did not simply do so out of courtesy. To begin with, he knew that he could trust her to keep all the information to herself. But there was another reason why he liked to keep her abreast of his movements. Madeleine had been able to offer practical help in some of his past investigations. Had he known about the involvement of a woman, Tallis would have been apoplectic. The superintendent felt that policing was essentially a male preserve. He’d be astounded if he knew how much Colbeck had relied on Madeleine to collect evidence on his behalf.