Timetable of Death

by Edward Marston

  ‘Doesn’t he trust you to run the investigation?’

  ‘He always thinks he can do our job better than we can. Stay at the hotel with me, by all means,’ said Colbeck, ‘but be on your guard. With the superintendent on the prowl, you may have to play a game of hide-and-seek.’

  Lydia Quayle was so touched by the warm reception she was given that she burst into tears. Her brother Lucas was the most demonstrative of her siblings, putting an arm around her to shepherd her into the house. Agnes rose to a kiss on the cheek and even Stanley, aloof though he was, abandoned his earlier hostility and raised no objection to her return. The domestic servants who glimpsed her were thrilled to see her and rushed off to spread the news of her return. But the major test was the reunion with her mother. Having heard from the others how poorly the old woman was, she went upstairs on her own and tapped on the door of her mother’s bedroom. Since there was no response, she let herself in and heard a gentle snore. Not wishing to disturb her mother’s sleep, she sat beside the bed and waited, noting the bottles of medicine and boxes of tablets on the bedside table. Her mother was even older and feebler than she remembered.

  The others had insisted she went into the room on her own. Though Lydia had been grateful at first, she now wished that they’d been with her so that her mother would awake to see familiar faces instead of one she had learnt to forget. It might have been better if Lydia had been seen as part of the family again instead of as a lone visitor from the past. The longer the wait, the more uncomfortable she became and the greater the urge to tiptoe out of the room to summon help. When she tried to move, however, she seemed to be bolted to the chair. There was no escape.

  It was half an hour before Harriet Quayle stirred. She opened watery eyes.

  ‘Is that you, Agnes?’ she whispered.

  ‘No, Mother, it’s not. It’s me – Lydia.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘It’s Lydia, your daughter,’ she said, putting her face closer. ‘I came back.’

  Harriet was confused. ‘Am I dreaming?’

  ‘No, it’s me and I’m here with you.’

  ‘Agnes usually sits beside the bed.’

  ‘She wanted me to come in here instead,’ explained Lydia, softly.

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  The old woman drifted off again and Lydia thought that she’d gone to sleep but the eyes opened after a few moments and struggled to focus. It took time and patience. Eventually, Harriet was convinced that her elder daughter had returned to the fold. She began to sob quietly.

  ‘Don’t cry, Mother,’ said Lydia, leaning forward to kiss her. ‘I wanted you to be happy. That’s why I came.’

  ‘I am happy. I’m very happy.’

  ‘Is there anything I can get you?’

  ‘I have all that I want,’ said Harriet. ‘I can die in peace now.’

  When the cab arrived outside the hotel, Colbeck first slipped inside the building to make sure that the coast was clear. Relieved to see no sign of Tallis, he came out to collect her. Even though Madeleine was his wife, he felt embarrassed having to smuggle her into the building and up to his room. Once they had real privacy at last, they were able to embrace properly.

  ‘What will you tell the management?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ll say that this room will have double occupancy tonight.’

  ‘Won’t they be suspicious?’

  ‘Oh, I think they’ve learnt to trust me,’ he said with a grin. ‘I don’t anticipate having to dangle your wedding ring in front of them. My only regret is that I can’t stay long. I have an appointment.’

  ‘Please don’t worry about leaving me, Robert. I feel quite exhausted. To be honest, I’d relish the chance of a nap. I’d much rather you stayed, of course,’ she added, ‘but I realise that work comes first. Where are you going?’

  ‘I’m about to indulge myself, Madeleine. Why come to a railway town without taking full advantage of the fact?’ He reached for his hat. ‘I’m going to have a tour of the Derby Works.’

  Donald Haygarth went through the agenda for the next board meeting. They were quite happy to work on a Saturday. He and Maurice Cope discussed each item at length before moving on to the next. Anxious to be confirmed as the next chairman of the company, Haygarth wanted to leave nothing to chance. Covertly, the other man had been acting as his campaign manager.

  ‘You’ll have more than enough votes,’ he assured Haygarth.

  ‘That’s largely your doing.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘I always reward good service.’ He consulted his watch. ‘What time are you seeing the inspector?’

  ‘He should be here at any moment.’

  ‘I can’t see the point of traipsing around the works. You’d never get me doing that. The noise is deafening and there’s grime everywhere. I’m surprised that a dandy like Colbeck would risk soiling his fine clothes. However,’ he continued, ‘it’s what he asked for and we must be seen to be helpful.’

  ‘It does mean that I’ll be there to watch him,’ said Cope. There was a tap on the door. ‘That will be the inspector now, I daresay.’

  In fact, it was a secretary who entered the room to say that Superintendent Tallis was requesting an interview with Haygarth. The acting chairman asked for him to be sent in and was soon shaking hands with his visitor. He introduced Cope, who remained standing when the others sat down.

  ‘We were expecting Inspector Colbeck,’ said Haygarth.

  ‘Yes, I know. It’s one of the reasons I came. I’m hoping that I might join him in his perambulation around the Works.’

  ‘Do you have any idea why he wishes to have a tour of inspection?’

  ‘No,’ admitted Tallis, ‘but a reason will emerge. The inspector is a man of unorthodox methods. The extraordinary thing is that they almost invariably produce good results.’

  ‘We’ve seen none so far,’ said Haygarth with a meaningful glance at Cope.

  ‘No,’ said Cope, taking his cue, ‘we’d hoped for more progress by now but both the inspector and Sergeant Leeming have failed to turn up any decisive evidence. The board meeting for the election of the new chairman will be held at the end of next week. For obvious reasons, we’d like the murder to be solved before that takes place.’

  ‘I appreciate that,’ said Tallis.

  He’d already been given a good description of the two men by Colbeck and, looking at them now, he realised how accurate it had been. Haygarth was plainly a man who gloried in power and Cope was his lickspittle lieutenant. Within the Midland Railway, they were a formidable team and it said much for the character of Vivian Quayle that he would have been able to defeat them in the battle for control of the company.

  ‘Have you taken charge of the case, Superintendent?’ asked Haygarth.

  ‘No, I’m simply here to monitor it.’

  ‘You’ve been given the names of possible suspects, I take it.’

  ‘Oh, yes, Mr Haygarth. I spoke to one of them early today.’

  ‘Who might that be?’

  ‘A fellow by the name of Gerard Burns,’ said Tallis. ‘He’s a stubborn individual and is very defensive when the name of Vivian Quayle is mentioned.’

  ‘He has every right to be,’ said Cope. ‘I’m told he can be prickly.’

  ‘You must have formed your own judgement about that, Mr Cope. I hear that you once approached him to leave Mr Quayle’s employment to work for Mr Haygarth instead. Why did the two of you conspire to snare someone else’s gardener? For the life of me, I can’t see why that would help in the running of this railway.’ He shared a bland smile between them. ‘Perhaps one of you can enlighten me.’

  Victor Leeming alighted from the train in Spondon. After his visit to Belper, he was delighted to be back in the village. It was where the murder victim had been found and where one of the prime suspects lived. On his way to Hockaday’s shop, he reflected that his conversation with Reuben Wigg had not been entirely a waste of time. He’d learnt something about the character of the ph
armacist’s brother, Elijah, which served to keep the superintendent’s name on the list of suspects. The latter had a compulsion to achieve a position of power and would even discard a member of his family if he offered no professional advantage. Reuben Wigg had clearly matched his bewhiskered brother in his capacity to bear a grudge. He’d even talked of committing murder, albeit with a macabre jocularity.

  The arrival of Edward Tallis had jangled the sergeant. He hated the feeling that he was being spied on by his superior. Tallis had poured scorn on the notion of going to Belper but Leeming felt that it could now be justified. His assessment of Superintendent Wigg had been ratified. The pharmacist’s brother would have been far too careful to get blood on his hands. Murder would have been assigned to someone else. Leeming wondered if he was about to meet the man who actually did the deed. Before he did so, he had a more enjoyable encounter. He saw Philip Conway coming around a corner. Each was pleased to see the other.

  ‘It would be easier if you actually lived in Spondon,’ said Leeming. ‘You’ve been here every day so far.’

  ‘I like the place, Sergeant, and the local people seem to like me.’

  ‘Why do they have to talk in that weird language?’

  ‘Derbyshire folk are proud of their dialects,’ said Conway. ‘If they came to London, they wouldn’t be able to understand a word of Cockney slang.’

  ‘It takes getting used to.’

  ‘As for staying the night here, this may be my last visit to Spondon. The editor says I won’t be coming again.’

  ‘But you’ve turned up vital information.’

  ‘Somebody doesn’t want me here and spoke to my editor – Wigg, probably.’

  Since it was Conway who’d told him about Wigg’s brother, Leeming felt obliged to say that he’d been to Belper and to give a short account of what he learnt there. The reporter was not surprised. Elijah Wigg only cultivated people who could be useful to him, such as the editor of the Derby Mercury. A pharmacist brother had no social or political leverage to offer.

  ‘As it happens, he was here last night,’ said Conway.

  ‘Superintendent Wigg?’

  ‘Yes, the stationmaster saw him arrive.’

  ‘Well, there’s no reason why he shouldn’t be,’ remarked Leeming. ‘He and his men are still supposed to be helping us with our enquiries though they’ve not given us much assistance so far.’

  ‘They work slowly but surely.’

  ‘I know. It takes them three years to solve a murder.’

  ‘The Stone case is still awaiting a solution.’

  ‘I wonder why,’ said Leeming with irony. ‘If he came here, Wigg would certainly have been in touch with Hockaday. Indeed, that may have been the main reason for his visit.’

  ‘You could be right, Sergeant – as long as you don’t ask me to confirm it by challenging him. I’m keeping out of Hockaday’s way.’

  ‘He can’t harm you, Mr Conway. He’d lose his position as a constable, for a start. We’ve had to get rid of a number of our men who are too ready to use their fists to pay off old grudges.’

  ‘Well, he certainly holds a grudge against me.’

  ‘It’s because you’re a threat. You might find out the truth about him.’

  ‘I’ll leave that job to you, Sergeant.’

  After exchanging information with him for a few more minutes, Leeming took his leave and made his way to the cobbler’s shop. Hockaday was in the process of serving a customer. When the woman departed, he turned an unfriendly stare towards his visitor. The sergeant fired off his first question immediately.

  ‘Where did you go by train yesterday, Mr Hockaday?’

  ‘Why do you want to know?’

  ‘You don’t deny it, then?’

  ‘If you’ve been talking to the stationmaster again, he’ll have told you I caught a train. Is that how you spied on me?’

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ replied Leeming. ‘I happened to be sitting in the window of the Malt Shovel when you strode past. You were so eager to get somewhere that I wanted to know where it was. I followed you.’

  The cobbler sounded hurt. ‘I never saw you.’

  ‘I thought you were going to Duffield to warn the people whose names you’d given that they might get a visit from us. It looked as if you went to concoct an alibi.’

  ‘I didn’t need to,’ said the other, incensed.

  ‘I know that now, sir. Mr Verney confirmed your story and he struck me as an honest man. He told me that you did call there on the night of the murder but that it was late and you’d been drinking.’

  ‘I’m entitled to a pint of beer now and then.’

  ‘I agree. Where did you go before you visited Mr and Mrs Verney?’

  ‘That’s no concern of yours, Sergeant.’

  ‘Was it the same place you went to yesterday when you stayed on the train instead of getting off at Duffield?’

  ‘Why are you paying so much attention to me when there’s a killer on the loose?’ demanded the cobbler.

  ‘It’s because you’re concealing things from us, Mr Hockaday. For instance,’ said Leeming, ‘you didn’t tell us that you had family in Duffield. Mr Verney made sure that nobody overheard but he told me that you were his son. Is that true?’

  Hockaday’s anger changed immediately to alarm. He suddenly looked very vulnerable. Reaching out, he grabbed Leeming by both arms.

  ‘Don’t tell anybody that,’ he pleaded. ‘People here don’t need to know it. I beg of you to keep it to yourself, Sergeant.’

  Maurice Cope astounded him. Colbeck’s assumption was that the man was there to watch them as much as to conduct them around the works. In fact, Cope turned out to be as fascinated by trains as the inspector. His knowledge of the Midland Railway was almost encyclopaedic and he spoke with a muted passion. Most of the technical information was lost on Edward Tallis, who trailed behind the two men with mounting boredom.

  ‘When the Midland Railway was authorised in 1844,’ said Cope, ‘we inherited an assortment of locomotives from the constituent companies. There were 95 in all, plus 282 carriages, 1256 goods wagons and a number of horseboxes, post office vans and carriage trucks.’

  ‘The Midland Counties had tiny Bury locomotives,’ recalled Colbeck, ‘but the North Midland had those sturdy, sandwich-framed ones.’

  ‘So did the Birmingham and Derby Junction.’

  ‘Is all this relevant?’ wailed Tallis.

  But the other two men ignored him. They were inspired by everything they saw, from the turning of the huge wheels on massive lathes to the riveting of the boilers and the ingenuity of the bending tubes. The pounding of the giant steam hammers made Tallis put his hands over his ears but the others took the hullaballoo in their stride. It was in the roundhouse that Colbeck simply stood and stared in awe. It was the largest structure of its kind in the whole country, with a turntable at its centre and a series of parking bays running off it like the spokes of a wheel. There was a fearsome compound of smells and sounds. Cope indicated points of interest and Colbeck evinced an almost childish glee.

  ‘How much longer is this going on?’ complained Tallis.

  ‘You may leave if you wish,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘I thought we came here to learn something.’

  ‘We’ve learnt dozens of things, Superintendent.’

  ‘All that I’ve learnt is that it was an act of madness to accompany you. The stink is unbearable and I think my eardrums are perforated. How can anyone work in such appalling conditions?’

  ‘Employees adapt very quickly, sir,’ said Cope. ‘Apprentices start as young as thirteen years of age. They work an eight-hour day and are controlled by a steam whistle. Only when it rings for the sixth time can they end their shift.’

  ‘It makes our day seem soft by comparison,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘Nonsense!’ exclaimed Tallis. ‘We work longer hours and often have to be on duty all night. Also, I should remind you, we face danger on a daily basis.’

  ‘So do th
e employees here.’

  ‘It’s true,’ said Cope, sadly. ‘We have far too many accidents. Railway workers need to keep their wits about them. Some men have been incapacitated for life, and I’m ashamed to admit that we’ve had fatalities.’

  ‘You’ll have another if I have to stay here any longer,’ grumbled Tallis.

  ‘At least stay to see the turntable in action,’ urged Colbeck.

  ‘I’ve seen enough.’

  ‘There’s something I’ve always wanted to do.’

  ‘I think I can guess what it is, Inspector,’ said Cope. ‘Give me a moment and I’ll arrange for your wish to be fulfilled.’

  ‘What’s this about a wish?’ asked Tallis.

  After removing his hat and his coat, Colbeck handed them to him.

  ‘Please look after those for me, Superintendent.’

  ‘Where are you going, man?’

  ‘You’ll soon see.’

  A locomotive had been driven onto the turntable and stood there throbbing with latent power. Cope was speaking to the fireman who gave an affirmative nod. It was the signal for Colbeck to hurry over to them. After taking instructions, he and the fireman went to one side of the turntable while two other railwaymen went to the other. After rocking the vast wheel to and fro for a little while, they put all their strength into a heave. To the amazement of the watching Tallis, four men were making a locomotive of immense weight turn as if it were made of paper. They pushed on until it had completed a semicircle then locked it into position so that it could drive frontwards out of the shed again. Colbeck was overjoyed to have been part of the operation. Ignoring the fact that the fireman’s hand was covered in coal dust, he shook it gratefully.

  Tallis was both bewildered and annoyed, mystified by what Colbeck had done and infuriated that he was holding the inspector’s hat and coat. There was worse to come. A steam whistle suddenly went off only yards away and Tallis was so startled that he took a few injudicious steps away, only to get his foot jammed under a rail and to fall backwards on the ground. His yell of anguish brought Colbeck running over to him. Picking up his discarded hat and coat, he bent over the superintendent.