The Stationmaster's Farewell

by Edward Marston

  ‘They wouldn’t have done that if they’d seen us celebrating last night,’ she said with a crude laugh. ‘The owner of this boat will have a shock when he sees that we burnt the doors and shutters to keep warm.’

  ‘It was a very special night, Ad.’

  ‘I hope we have others like it.’

  He wouldn’t be drawn into making a commitment. Instead he offered his arm.

  ‘Right,’ he said, ‘let’s get you on the train to Plymouth, shall we?’

  Woodford was hovering like a bird of prey. The moment that Dorcas turned up for work that morning, he pounced on her, taking her by the elbow and guiding her into the gap beside the waiting room.

  ‘I need to have a word with you, young lady,’ he said.

  She was frightened by his intensity. ‘What have I done, Mr Woodford?’

  ‘You told a lie about me.’

  ‘I’d never do that.’

  ‘According to Inspector Colbeck, you said that you’d mentioned Mr Heygate’s diary to me whereas you did nothing of the kind, did you?’

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘No, you didn’t.’

  ‘But I did, Mr Woodford. You wanted to know what the inspector had been asking me and I told you that …’

  Her voice petered out in fear when she saw the look he was giving her. Though she was limited in many ways, Dorcas had a good memory. She knew what she’d told Woodford and she couldn’t understand why he was denying it. Patently, it was a matter of importance to him. He stressed the fact by seizing her shoulder.

  ‘You’ll have to apologise to the inspector for making a mistake,’ he said.

  ‘Why should I do that?’

  ‘It’s what I’m telling you to do, Miss Hope.’

  ‘You’re hurting me.’

  ‘Do you like working here?’

  ‘Well, yes, I do. It’s my job.’

  ‘If you wish to keep that job, do as you’re told.’

  She was scandalised. ‘I can’t tell a lie to Inspector Colbeck.’

  ‘You’ll do whatever I say,’ he warned, tightening his grip and making her squeak in pain. ‘Do you understand?’

  ‘Mr Heygate never made me tell a lie,’ she said.

  He grinned. ‘Mr Heygate is dead. I’m the stationmaster now.’ He released her but applied more pressure with a threat. ‘If you don’t do as you’re told, Miss Hope, I’ll see that the canary is taken away from you.’ Dorcas let out a gasp. ‘I thought that might make you change your mind.’

  ‘Am I interrupting anything?’ asked Colbeck, spotting the pair of them. ‘Good morning, Miss Hope,’ he added, touching his hat. ‘I’m sad to say that you have the look of a young lady who’s being bullied.’

  ‘That’s nonsense,’ said Woodford with a dismissive chuckle. ‘I was just giving Miss Hope some instructions.’

  ‘Did they relate to a diary, by any chance?’

  ‘Yes, they did,’ said Dorcas.

  ‘No, they didn’t,’ countered Woodford, shooting her a glance.

  ‘I had a feeling that this might happen,’ said Colbeck. ‘That’s why Sergeant Leeming and I decided to come along and establish the full truth of the situation. Victor,’ he went on, turning to his companion. ‘Why don’t you take Miss Hope to the refreshment room so that she can begin work?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said Leeming.

  ‘There’s a train due very soon, so she’ll be needed. Oh, and you might ask her once again if she ever mentioned that diary to Mr Woodford.’

  ‘I will, Inspector.’

  ‘The girl was mistaken,’ said the stationmaster as Leeming led her away. ‘She’d have told you so.’

  ‘What threat did you use to coerce her into dishonesty?’

  ‘I used no threat at all.’

  ‘Your stance was very menacing when we came along and Miss Hope was palpably scared.’ Colbeck met his eye. ‘Let me issue a threat of my own,’ he said. ‘If that young lady is harassed in any way or even dismissed from her job, I’ll report you directly to Mr Quinnell. Is that clear? Leave her alone, Mr Woodford. If you value your position as the stationmaster here, you can stop bullying your staff and learn to tell the truth.’

  ‘All right,’ confessed Woodford, giving ground with reluctance, ‘I’d forgotten that Miss Hope had mentioned the diary to me. It was an honest mistake. I’ve had so much else to think about since I took over Mr Heygate’s duties. It must have slipped my mind.’ He looked up at the station clock. ‘The London train will be here in a minute. You’ll have to excuse me, Inspector.’

  Colbeck stood aside to let him pass. ‘Off you go, sir.’

  Straightening his shoulders, Woodford strode along the platform to greet the incoming train. Colbeck was left to look along the line of waiting passengers. Two of them caught his attention. A well-dressed man was escorting a middle-aged woman in the modest attire of a domestic servant. What interested Colbeck was the man’s gait. He was sure that he’d seen that walk somewhere before. The train was heard before it was actually seen. When it finally steamed into sight, it was belching out smoke and assaulting the eardrums of those in the station. The locomotive eventually squealed to a halt amid clouds of steam. Carriage doors opened and passengers alighted, their places quickly taken by those clambering aboard for the next stage of the journey.

  Colbeck kept his eye on the couple he’d noticed earlier. Lifting his hat, the man gave the woman a kiss then held the door open so that she could board the train. Woodford was at his most officious, urging late arrivals to hurry up, then warning everyone still on the platform to stand clear. When he gave the signal for departure, the engine burst into life and flexed its muscles. The train slowly pulled out of the station on its way south. Colbeck strolled across to the man who’d sparked his interest, making sure that he kept between him and the exit.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said, cheerily. ‘It’s Mr Browne, isn’t it?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said the other, unperturbed. ‘My name is Jenkins.’

  ‘I remember seeing you yesterday at Mr Heygate’s funeral. You were wearing a very different disguise then.’

  ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Then perhaps you’d like to accompany me to the police station where we can sort the matter out,’ suggested Colbeck. ‘Superintendent Steel will be delighted to see you, I’m sure.’

  Bagsy Browne tensed. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘My name is Inspector Colbeck of Scotland Yard.’

  ‘Then it’s time you bought yourself some spectacles, Inspector, because your eyesight has failed you. I’m not the man you think I am.’

  ‘Yes you are, Bagsy,’ said Colbeck. ‘You gave yourself away.’ He pointed to Browne’s ankles. ‘No gentleman would wear trousers that are too short or tie his cravat the wrong way. As for your shoes, they appear to be covered in mud. I can’t believe that any servant would let you leave the house in that condition.’

  Browne’s eyes were flicking in every direction as he looked for a means of escape. It was clear that he couldn’t bluff his way past Colbeck. He fingered the dagger hidden under his coat.

  ‘Is that the weapon with which you stabbed Superintendent Tallis?’ asked Colbeck, extending a hand. ‘Give it to me, Mr Browne. You’re under arrest.’

  ‘Stay back!’ yelled Browne, pulling out the dagger.

  ‘You can’t kill both of us, sir.’

  ‘There’s only one of you.’

  ‘No, there isn’t. The gentleman who just came out of the refreshment room is my colleague, Sergeant Leeming. Over here, Victor!’ called Colbeck. ‘Come and meet Mr Browne.’

  Leeming ran over to them. ‘Is this him, sir?’

  ‘Yes, it is. He’s either Bagsy Browne or a man with the most inept tailor. That dagger would indicate the former.’

  Colbeck took a step forward and Browne flashed the weapon at him. Leeming was waiting for the opportunity to leap on the man they’d been chasing for so long. A small crowd watched from the safety o
f the waiting room. Woodford had retreated into the ticket office out of fear. Colbeck and Leeming edged slowly forward, each of them stepping back out of range when Browne jabbed the dagger at them. Seeing that he could never leave by means of the exit, Browne decided to trust in the speed of his legs. After a last thrust at the detectives, he jumped down on to the track and began to run at full pelt in the direction just taken by the train.

  The detectives went after him. Shedding their coats and tossing away their hats, they leapt on to the track and sprinted after Browne. Colbeck was the fitter and more athletic of the two and opened up an immediate gap, leaving the sergeant puffing gamely in the rear. Browne was fast but Colbeck’s long, loping stride allowed him to gain ground on the fugitive. It was only a matter of time before he caught up with him. Realising that, Browne started to panic. There was another problem. He’d flung away his top hat but the tight-fitting clothes remained a handicap, restricting his movement and biting into his legs and body. His heart was pounding, his lungs were on fire and the first trickle of sweat ran down his collar.

  Conscious that Colbeck was right behind him, he tried to produce a surge of speed but his legs wouldn’t obey. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that he’d been caught. A couple of yards behind him, Colbeck suddenly hurled himself forward in a dive and tackled him around the thighs, sending Browne crashing to the ground and knocking his head on the iron rail. Stunned by the impact, he lost his grip on the dagger and it rolled out of reach. Colbeck got to his feet, took Browne by the collar and hauled him to his feet. Blood dribbled from a gash on the man’s forehead. He was far too dazed to offer any resistance.

  When Leeming came running up, he was panting hard and his brow was sleek with perspiration. Colbeck handed the prisoner over to him.

  ‘There you are, Victor,’ he said. ‘Clean him up and take him way.’

  ‘Your trousers are torn, sir,’ observed Leeming.

  Colbeck looked down at the bad tear in one leg and the dirt on both knees.

  ‘I blame Mr Browne for that,’ he said, bitterly. ‘Before they hang him, I’ll send him a bill from my tailor. These trousers weren’t made for diving on a railway line. Why didn’t this fool have the sense to surrender?’

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The news that Bagsy Browne had finally been captured was quickly disseminated throughout the city. It was the main topic of discussion in the pubs, shops and streets of Exeter. Henry Phillpotts was in the library in the bishop’s palace when he was told. He was delighted. At a stroke, the threat of attack he perceived as looming over him was swept away, allowing his vengeful streak to come to the fore.

  ‘The man should be hanged, drawn and quartered!’ he decreed.

  ‘That punishment was used for treason,’ Barnes pointed out, ‘and, in my opinion, it was unnecessarily barbaric. When the body was quartered, the four parts were sent to separate corners of the kingdom by way of a warning.’

  ‘It’s the fate that Browne deserves.’

  ‘Happily, it’s no longer on the statute book. Do you really wish the public to be treated to the grisly sight of a man being hanged until he’s on the point of expiry then cut down so that he can be sliced open and have his intestines drawn out? What purpose is served by such a hideous spectacle, Bishop?’

  ‘It would bring me satisfaction.’

  ‘It’s nothing short of butchery.’

  ‘And what about Browne’s butchery?’ retorted Phillpotts. ‘Have you so soon forgotten what he did to the stationmaster? He battered him to death, then burnt the body to provide amusement to the public. I may sound vindictive but I believe that we should reward cruelty with judicial cruelty.’

  ‘We must agree to differ on that score.’

  ‘The Old Testament teaches us to demand an eye for an eye.’

  ‘I’ve no wish to take issue with such a learned theologian as you,’ said Barnes. ‘That would be foolhardy and presumptuous. I simply feel that we should let the law take its course. You’re still too inflamed by the outrages that Browne directed at you to take an objective view.’

  Phillpotts took several deep breaths before speaking. ‘Then it’s just as well that I have you to introduce a note of reason,’ he said, calming down. ‘I owe you my thanks. I’m getting old, Ralph. My stock of forgiveness has run low. In its place is this venomous impulse to inflict far more pain than I myself have suffered.’ His voice hardened. ‘But I still wish to watch Browne hang.’

  ‘That’s a popular sentiment in the city.’

  ‘It’s a pity that Inspector Colbeck won’t be here to witness it. He, after all, is the hero of the hour. If reports are correct, he pursued the villain for over a hundred yards, then jumped on him even though Browne was armed with a dagger.’

  ‘He showed exceptional courage, Bishop.’

  ‘He needs to be told how much we appreciate what he did.’

  ‘You wish to send him a letter?’

  ‘I’ll draft it immediately. I took Colbeck for yet another stubborn and single-minded policeman but he’s redeemed himself in my eyes. He had the wit to recognise Browne and the nerve to challenge him.’ Sitting at his desk, he reached for his quill pen and dipped it in the inkwell. ‘Now, then … how shall I phrase it?’

  ‘Before you commit pen to paper,’ warned Barnes, ‘there’s something you should know. There’s a rumour going round that Inspector Colbeck is still not entirely persuaded that Browne is the man who killed Mr Heygate.’

  ‘Of course he is!’ exploded Phillpotts. ‘It’s as plain as the nose on my face. Whatever is the inspector thinking? He goes to all the trouble of catching a brutal killer then has doubts about his guilt? It’s monstrous!’

  ‘That’s why I suggest you should hold fire, Bishop.’

  ‘Who does he think did commit the murder?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. I merely passed on a rumour that may or may not be correct.’

  Phillpotts put the pen aside. ‘I’ll delay my letter until I know the truth of it,’ he said. ‘I’m certainly not going to congratulate a man who thinks that Browne is innocent of the murder. How can he be so blind?’

  ‘We may be maligning him unfairly,’ said Barnes. ‘Perhaps we should give him the benefit of the doubt. Inspector Colbeck won’t even have had time to question the prisoner. He may even be able to wrest a full confession out of him.’ Phillpotts laughed mirthlessly. ‘Given what we know of Browne, I accept that it may be next to impossible.’

  ‘Browne is a seasoned liar. He’ll confess nothing.’

  ‘He’s up against a worthy adversary, Bishop. In my estimation, Inspector Colbeck is a very astute man. Didn’t Mr Tallis tell us on Sunday that the inspector used to be a barrister?’

  ‘I believe that he did.’

  ‘Then he’ll know how to cross-examine the prisoner.’

  They were taking no chances. Since Browne had rescued a prisoner from a police cell, extra precautions were put in place at the police station. Every door was locked and the man himself was handcuffed. He was interviewed in a bare room with a barred window. Policemen were on sentry duty outside the building. Before he could question the prisoner, Colbeck had returned to the Acland Tavern, glad that he’d had the foresight to bring a change of trousers with him. He would never have consented to question any suspect while wearing a pair of torn trousers, especially if both knees had been scuffed. As a courtesy, he permitted Superintendent Steel to take part in the interview. Arms folded, Leeming stood in front of the door to prevent any dash for freedom. While he was glad that Browne was at last in custody, he wished that he’d made the arrest. A tussle with an armed man was meat and drink to him.

  Browne was seated on an upright chair with the wound on his head bandaged. Colbeck and Steel sat opposite him but the prisoner only had eyes for the inspector. It was a blow to Browne’s pride that he’d been captured and he bristled with resentment at Colbeck. Even though his hands were manacled behind his back, he looked as if he was about to launch an attack on him
at any moment.

  Colbeck was droll. ‘You’ve been rather busy, Mr Browne,’ he began. ‘A long list of crimes can be laid at your door.’

  ‘I’m innocent of every one of them.’

  ‘Do you deny assaulting a man by the name of Wyatt?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘He was a prison warder known to you.’

  ‘Then he deserved what happened to him.’

  ‘He recognised you in the street,’ said Steel.

  ‘A lot of people do. I’m a handsome man.’

  ‘Yet you still deny the attack?’

  ‘I was defending myself against a violent assault.’

  ‘You were being sought by the police,’ Colbeck reminded him.

  Browne’s face was motionless. ‘Was I?’

  ‘Every newspaper carried details of the search.’

  ‘I never read newspapers, Inspector. They’re full of lies.’

  ‘You must have known that the police were after you.’

  ‘They’re always after me. They’ve got nothing better to do.’

  ‘Whenever you come to this city,’ said Steel, rancorously, ‘you leave a trail of wreckage behind you. Last time, it was confined to theft and disorder. This time, the crimes are far more serious.’

  ‘Wyatt beat me black and blue in prison. Why not arrest him?’

  ‘We’re not talking about Mr Wyatt.’

  ‘You should do, Superintendent. You don’t know half of what goes on behind those prison walls. They flog you if you so much as fart.’

  ‘Let’s turn to another charge,’ said Colbeck. ‘On Sunday evening, you came in here and knocked the duty sergeant unconscious before rescuing a woman by the name of Adeline Goss. In the course of your escape, you wounded Superintendent Tallis of Scotland Yard.’

  ‘He was in our way.’

  ‘You came in here prepared to use a weapon.’

  ‘I told him to stand aside.’

  ‘It was a case of attempted murder,’ said Steel.

  ‘No,’ returned Browne, vehemently. ‘I gave him a prod, that’s all. If I’d wanted to kill him, I’d have cut his throat from ear to ear.’