‘A little, Miss Andrews. A little.’
‘The report in today’s newspaper was not very encouraging.’
‘Do not pay too much attention to what you read,’ he counselled. ‘Newspapers do not always have the full facts at their fingertips and some of them appear to take pleasure in baiting us. I can assure you that we have made more headway than they would lead you to believe.’
‘We were horrified to learn that there had been two murders. Is it true that they may possibly be related to the train robbery?’
‘Undeniably so.’
‘Why were they killed?’
‘The murder victims were accomplices who had to be silenced.’
‘How terrible!’
‘Except for the young woman, that is. She was an innocent person who happened to be in the wrong company at the wrong time.’
‘Yet they still cut her throat?’
‘We are dealing with ruthless men, Miss Andrews.’
‘Father discovered that.’
‘How is he, by the way?’
‘He gets better each day,’ she said, brightening. ‘Unfortunately, he also gets angrier and louder. I have difficulty in calming him down.’
‘I refuse to believe that. You know exactly how to handle him.’
His fond smile was tinged with disappointment. Madeleine met his gaze and held it for some time, trying to read the message in his eyes while sending a covert signal in her own. Colbeck was strongly aware of the mutual interest between them but he did not feel able to explore it. His visitor eventually broke the long silence.
‘I had a more personal reason for coming, Inspector,’ she said.
‘Indeed?’
‘Yes, I feel that I owe you an apology.’
‘Whatever for?’
‘My behaviour when you called at our house.’
‘I saw nothing that could warrant an apology, Miss Andrews.’
‘My father spoke out of turn.’
‘He does seem to have an impulsive streak.’
‘It led him to say something that he had no right to say,’ explained Madeleine, ‘and I did not wish you to be misled by it. The person that he mentioned – Gideon Little, a fireman – is a family friend but, as far as I am concerned, he can never be more than that. Father thinks otherwise.’
‘Your private life is no business of mine,’ he said, trying to ease her obvious discomfort. ‘Please do not feel that you have to offer either an apology or an explanation.’
‘I just wanted you to understand.’
‘Then I am grateful that you came.’
‘Really?’
‘Really,’ he confirmed.
Madeleine smiled with relief. ‘Then so am I, Inspector Colbeck.’ She got to her feet. ‘But I must let you get on with your work. What am I to tell my father?’
‘That he has a very beautiful daughter,’ said Colbeck, letting his admiration show, ‘though I daresay that he already knows that. As for the train robbery,’ he went on, ‘I can give him no hope of an early arrest. Indeed, I think you should warn him to brace himself.’
‘Why?’
‘Because the man behind the robbery will be back. In my view, he is conducting a feud against the railway system and he will not rest until he has inflicted more serious damage upon it.’
‘What do you mean?’ roared Sir Humphrey Gilzean, striking the side of his boot with his riding crop. ‘The attempt failed?’
‘It was only a partial success,’ said Thomas Sholto.
‘How partial? Was there no explosion?’
‘Yes, Humphrey.’
‘Then what went wrong?’
‘The gunpowder, it seems, was not in the ideal position. All that it did was to dislodge the brickwork on one side of the tunnel.’
‘It was intended to block the entrance completely.’
‘That did not happen, alas.’
‘Why ever not, Thomas? I gave orders.’
‘They were disobeyed,’ said Sholto. ‘The men decided that they could achieve the same results with a smaller amount of gunpowder than you had decreed. They were proved wrong.’
‘Damnation!’
‘They’ve been upbraided, believe me.’
‘I’ll do more than upbraid them,’ snarled Gilzean, slapping the back of a leather armchair with his crop. ‘I gave them precise instructions. Had they followed them to the letter, the train that was coming from the opposite direction would have crashed into the debris and put the Kilsby Tunnel out of action for a considerable time.’
‘That did not happen, Humphrey. Damage was limited.’
‘I knew that we should have done the job ourselves.’
‘Jukes and the others have never let us down before.’
‘They’ll not get the chance to do so again,’ vowed Gilzean, prowling vengefully around the hall of his house. ‘I know that. Instead of disrupting the railway, we simply gave them a salutary warning. The Kilsby Tunnel will be guarded by an army of policemen from now on.’ He flung his crop onto the armchair. ‘We lost our chance through sheer incompetence.’
‘They did not realise how solid that brickwork was.’
‘Almost as solid as their heads, by the sound of it. I don’t like it, Thomas. This is a bad omen. Until now, everything has gone so smoothly.’
‘Our luck had to change at some time.’
‘Luck does not come into it, man,’ retorted the other. ‘It is merely a question of good preparation and perfect timing. That is what served us so well with the train robbery – discipline. Were I still in the regiment,’ he said, waving a fist, ‘I’d have the three of them flogged until they had no skin left on their backs. Just wait until I see them. Disobey orders, will they?’ he cried. ‘By God, the next time I try to blow up a tunnel, I’ll make sure that each one of those blithering idiots is inside it!’
Madeleine Andrews made no objection this time when he suggested that she might return home in a cab. Shadows were lengthening and Camden began to seem a long way away. As they stood in Whitehall, however, she made no effort to hail a cab and neither did Colbeck. She wished to stay and he wanted her to linger. Their brief conversation in his office had redeemed his whole day. When a cab went past, they both ignored it.
‘I read what the newspaper said about you, Inspector.’
‘Did you?’
‘Yes,’ replied Madeleine. ‘It listed some of the other cases in which you’ve been involved. You’ve had a very successful career.’
‘I am only one of a team, Miss Andrews,’ he said, modestly. ‘Any success that I’ve enjoyed as a detective is due to the fact that I have people like Sergeant Leeming around me.’
‘That face of his would frighten me.’
‘Victor has many compensating virtues.’
‘I’m sure that he has.’ She looked up quizzically at him. ‘How did you come to know so much about locomotives?’
‘They interest me.’
‘Father could not believe that you could tell the difference between a Bury and a Crampton locomotive. That pleased him so much.’
‘Good,’ said Colbeck, studying her dimples. ‘Driving a train has always seemed to be to be an exciting occupation.’
‘Not to those who actually do it, Inspector. Father has to work long hours in all weathers. Standing on the footplate in heavy rain or driving snow is an ordeal. And think of the dirt. His clothing gets so filthy that I have to wash it in several waters to get it clean.’
‘Has he ever wanted to change his job?’
‘No,’ she admitted. ‘He loves it too much.’
‘In spite of what happened to him this week?’
‘In spite of it.’
Colbeck grinned. ‘I rest my case.’
‘Being in a railway family is hard for any woman,’ she said. ‘Talk to Rose Pike. Her husband was the fireman. Rose will tell you how often Frank has come home with burns on his hand from the firebox or a mark on his face where some flying cinders have hit him. When she hea
rd about the train robbery, she was terrified.’
‘Be fair, Miss Andrews. It was a unique event.’
‘That made no difference to Rose.’
Colbeck began to fish. ‘Coming back to what you were saying about a railway family,’ he said, casually. ‘Is it because you were brought up in one that you have no desire to marry a railwayman?’
‘I’ve no desire to marry anyone at present,’ she replied.
‘Yet you have a suitor.’
‘An unwanted suitor.’
‘Because he works on the railway?’
‘No, Inspector,’ she said with a shrug. ‘Because he is not the right husband for me. Gideon Little is a pleasant enough young man and I have always liked him, but that is the extent of my interest in him.’
‘You do not have to account to me for your feelings.’
‘I wanted you to appreciate the true position, Inspector.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Just as I now appreciate your situation.’
‘Is it so transparent, Miss Andrews?’
‘I think so,’ she said, looking him full in the eye. ‘You are married to your work, Inspector. It occupies you completely, does it not? Nothing else in your life matters.’
‘You may be wrong about that,’ said Colbeck with a slow smile. ‘Though I suspect that it may take time to convince you of it.’ The clatter of hooves made him look up. ‘Ah, here’s a cab at last!’ he noted. ‘Shall I stop it or do you reserve the right to hail it yourself?’
‘I accept your kind offer, Inspector. Thank you.’
Colbeck raised an arm and the cab drew up alongside them. He had the momentary pleasure of holding her hand to help her into the cab. There was an exchange of farewells. Madeleine gave an address to the driver and he flicked his reins. The horse trotted off up Whitehall. Colbeck had a sudden desire to sit beside her in the cab and continue their conversation indefinitely but other priorities called. Forcing himself to forget Madeleine Andrews, he went swiftly back to his office.
The dark-eyed young man in the ill-fitting brown suit emerged from the doorway where he had been lurking. Gideon Little set off with long strides in pursuit of the cab.
CHAPTER NINE
Darkness had fallen by the time that news of the explosion in the Kilsby Tunnel finally reached Scotland Yard. Superintendent Tallis was not entirely convinced that it was the work of the same people who had robbed the mail train but Inspector Colbeck had no doubts whatsoever on the subject. He decided to visit the scene of the crime in daylight. Accordingly, early next morning, he and Victor Leeming caught a train that would take them there with a minimum number of stops on the way. Knowing that his companion was a reluctant rail traveller, Colbeck tried to divert him with some facts about their destination.
‘What do you know about the tunnel, Victor?’ he asked.
‘Nothing – beyond the fact that it goes under ground.’
‘It’s a work of art. On my visit to the Midlands, I went through it twice and was struck by the sheer size of it. The Kilsby Tunnel is cavernous. It’s like being in a subterranean kingdom.’
‘I’ll take your word for it, Inspector.’
‘When he undertook the project, Mr Stephenson thought it would be relatively straightforward because they would be cutting their way through a mixture of clay and sand. Unhappily,’ said Colbeck, ‘much of it turned out to be quicksand so the whole area had first to be drained. It was slow and laborious work.’
‘Like being a detective,’ noted the other, lugubriously.
Colbeck laughed. ‘Only in the sense that we, too, come up against unforeseen hazards,’ he said. ‘But our job is far less dangerous than that of the miners who sunk those enormous ventilation shafts or the navvies who dug out all that soil. How many bricks would you say were needed to line the tunnel?’
‘Hundreds of thousands, probably,’ guessed Leeming, unable to share the Inspector’s enthusiasm for the topic. ‘I hope that you are not asking me to count them when we get there.’
‘It would take you a lifetime, Victor.’
‘Why, sir?’
‘Because millions of bricks were used,’ said Colbeck. ‘A steam clay mill and kilns were built on site by Mr Stephenson so that he had a constant supply of 30,000 bricks per day. Imagine that, if you will.’ Leeming stifled a yawn. ‘The original estimate – would you believe – was for a total of 20 million bricks, some of them made from the clay that was excavated from the tunnel itself.’
‘How do you know all this, Inspector?’
‘I took the trouble to do some research on the subject.’
‘In that library of yours, you mean?’
‘Yes, Victor.’
‘I wouldn’t know where to look.’
‘Start with a history of the London and Birmingham Railway,’ said Colbeck. ‘That was the name of the company that operated this line when the tunnel was built. It was only amalgamated into the London and North Western Railway Company five years ago.’
‘Now that’s something I did know,’ said Leeming. ‘Every person I spoke to at the company made a point of telling me.’ He gave Colbeck a meaningful glance. ‘But not one of them mentioned how many bricks there were in the Kilsby Tunnel.’
‘Point taken,’ said Colbeck, smiling. ‘You are not in the mood for a lecture about the railway. Given the choice, I suspect, you would rather be making this journey on horseback.’
‘Or in the comfort of a stage coach, sir.’
‘Either way, you would have been much slower.’
‘Would I?’
‘By the time you got to Northamptonshire, I would have been back at my desk in London. Railways are helping to defeat time.’
When the train passed through Leighton Buzzard Station, they were pleased to see that the wrecked locomotive near the Linslade Tunnel had been removed, leaving deep indentations in the grass where it had come to rest. Though the robbery had been a serious crime with murderous consequences, Colbeck was very conscious of the fact that it had introduced him to Madeleine Andrews. He regarded that as an incidental bonus. His mind was filled with pleasant thoughts of her as they crossed the county border.
Stations flashed pass them at regular intervals then – to Leeming’s obvious relief – the train began to slow down. The detectives alighted at Crick to be greeted by a familiar sight. The hulking figure of Inspector Rory McTurk came along the station platform to give them a blunt reception.
‘What are you doing here, Inspector Colbeck?’ he asked.
‘We wanted the pleasure of renewing your acquaintance,’ replied Colbeck, touching the brim of his hat with courtesy. ‘I’m sure that you remember Sergeant Leeming.’
‘I do,’ grunted the Scotsman.
‘Good morning, Inspector,’ said Leeming.
‘Neither of you is needed here. This is railway business.’
‘Not when it’s related to the train robbery,’ asserted Colbeck.
‘What makes you think that?’
‘I’ll tell you when we have examined the scene.’ The locomotive was starting up again. ‘I see that the line has been reopened.’
‘In both directions,’ said McTurk. ‘A team of men worked through the night to clear the obstruction. Everything is as it should be now.’
‘Were there no policemen on duty at the tunnel?’
‘Two of them, Inspector. They were both overpowered.’
‘What game of cards were they playing this time?’ asked Leeming.
McTurk scowled. ‘Follow me,’ he said.
When the train had departed, they went down onto the track and strolled in the direction of the Kilsby Tunnel. McTurk walked with a proprietary strut. Since he was landed with him, Colbeck tried to make use of the combative Scotsman.
‘The news reached us by telegraph,’ he said. ‘Details were scarce.’
‘Then how can you link this outrage with the train robbery?’
‘I was expecting it.’
‘You expected
it?’ said McTurk. ‘Why did you not forewarn us?’
‘Because I had no idea where they would strike, Inspector, only that an attack of some sort was imminent. From what I gather,’ Colbeck went on, ‘you had something of a lucky escape.’
McTurk frowned. ‘Two railway policemen injured and an explosion in the longest tunnel on the line – I fail to see how you can talk about luck. It could have been worse,’ he admitted, ‘much worse, but it is still bad enough.’
He grumbled all the way to the mouth of the tunnel itself. Colbeck and Leeming said nothing to interrupt him. The first thing they noticed was the large pile of rubble to the side of the track that carried up trains to London. Working from ladders and trestles, bricklayers were already trying to repair the damage. Leeming saw an opportunity to air his limited knowledge of tunnel construction.
‘Tell me, Inspector McTurk,’ he said. ‘Do you happen to know how many bricks were used in the Kilsby Tunnel?’
‘Too bloody many!’ came the tart reply.
Leeming chose not to pursue the conversation.
Colbeck went into the tunnel to examine the full extent of the damage. He tried to work out where the gunpowder must have been when it exploded. McTurk came to stand at his shoulder.
‘By the end of the day,’ he said, ‘it will be as good as new.’
‘What about the two men who were attacked?’ asked Colbeck. ‘Are they as good as new, Inspector?’
‘They’re still a bit shaken but they’ll be back at work soon.’
‘Were they able to give a description of their assailants?’
‘No,’ said McTurk. ‘They were grabbed from behind, knocked unconscious and tied up. They didn’t even hear the explosion go off. There’s no point in talking to them.’
‘Perhaps not.’ He felt inside a hole where the brickwork had been blasted away. ‘What was the intention behind it all?’
McTurk was contemptuous. ‘I’m surprised that a man of your experience has to ask that, Inspector Colbeck,’ he said. ‘The intention is plain. They tried to close the tunnel in order to disrupt the railway.’
‘I think that there is more to it than that.’
The Railway Detective irc-1 Page 15