by Unknown
Madeleine was cheered. ‘You’ve arrested someone?’
‘Not exactly,’ he replied, ‘but we have caught up with one of the accomplices who was involved. His name was William Ings.’
‘Let me get my hands on the devil,’ said Andrews.
‘That’s not possible, I fear. Mr Ings was killed last night.’
‘Killed?’ echoed Madeleine, shocked at the news.
‘Yes, Miss Andrews,’ said Colbeck. ‘It means that we are no longer merely investigating a train robbery. This is now a murder case as well.’
‘Do you have any clue who the killer might be?’
‘Someone employed to make sure that Mr Ings’s tongue would tell no tales. Once we discovered that he was implicated, we were very close to apprehending him. The assassin got to him first.’
‘I wish that I had!’ said Andrews, truculently. ‘If he helped that gang to ambush my train, I’d have throttled him.’
‘Father!’ reproached his daughter.
‘I would have, I swear it.’
‘You are hardly in a position to throttle anyone, Mr Andrews,’ noted Colbeck with a sympathetic smile. ‘Mr Ings, alas, was not alone when he was attacked. The young lady with him also had her throat cut.’
‘How horrible!’ exclaimed Madeleine.
‘It shows you the sort of men we are up against.’
‘The worst kind,’ said Andrews. ‘They destroyed my locomotive. They made Frank Pike drive it off the track.’ He indicated the chair beside the bed and Colbeck sat down. ‘Do you know anything about the railway, Inspector?’
‘I travel by train regularly, Mr Andrews.’
‘But do you know anything about the locomotive that pulls it?’
‘A little,’ replied Colbeck. ‘I’m familiar with the engines designed by Mr Bury; four-wheeled, bar-framed locomotives with haystack fireboxes, and tight coupling between locomotive and tender to give more stability.’
Andrews was impressed. ‘You obviously know far more than most passengers,’ he said. ‘They have no clue how a steam locomotive works. Like many others, I began driving Bury locomotives but they had too little power. We had to use two, three, sometimes four locomotives to pull a heavy train. If there were steep gradients to go up, we might need as many as six to give us enough traction power.’
‘The mail train that you were taking to Birmingham was pulled by a Crampton locomotive – at least, that’s what it looked like to me.’
‘It was very similar to a Crampton, I agree, but it was designed by Mr Allan at the Crewe Works. He’s the foreman there and assistant to Mr Trevithick. Allan locomotives have double frames that extend the whole length of the engine with the cylinders located between the inside and outside frames.’
‘Inspector Colbeck does not want a lecture,’ warned Madeleine.
‘I’m always ready to learn from an expert,’ said Colbeck.
‘There you are, Maddy,’ said Andrews, happily. ‘The Inspector is really interested in the railways.’ He turned to Colbeck. ‘When we used inside cylinders, we were always having crank-axle breakages. Mr Allan was one of the men who began to develop horizontal outside cylinders. He may not be as famous as Mr Bury or Mr Crampton but I’d drive any locomotive that Alexander Allan built.’
‘Why is that?’ prompted Colbeck.
Caleb Andrews was in his element. He got so carried away describing the technicalities of locomotive construction that he forgot all about the nagging pain in his broken leg and the dull ache in one shoulder. Colbeck’s interest was genuine but that was not the only reason he had asked for instruction. He wanted the driver to relax, to feel at ease with him, to trust him. Watching from the other side of the room, Madeleine was struck by the way that the detective gently guided her father around to the subject of the train robbery and coaxed far more detail out of him about the event than she had managed to do. During the interview, Colbeck jotted down a few things in his notebook.
‘Would you recognise the man who attacked you?’ asked Colbeck.
‘I’ll never forget that face of his,’ replied Andrews.
‘Mr Pike gave us a good description.’
‘If my daughter were not present, Inspector, then I’d give you a good description of him – in one word.’
‘We do not wish to hear it, Father,’ scolded Madeleine.
‘That’s what he was, Maddy.’
‘Forgive him, Inspector.’
‘There’s nothing to forgive, Miss Andrews,’ said Colbeck, getting up and putting his notebook away. ‘In view of what happened, your father has been remarkably restrained. He’s also added some new details for me and that was very useful. One last question,’ he said, looking at the driver once more. ‘Is the London and North Western Railway a good company to work for, Mr Andrews?’
‘The best, Inspector.’
‘Are you saying that out of loyalty?’
‘No, Inspector Colbeck – I speak from experience. I hope to see out my time working for the London and North Western. And my link with the company will not end there.’
‘Oh?’
‘I have every hope that my son-in-law will be a driver one day.’
Madeleine blushed instantly. ‘Father!’ she cried.
‘Gideon would make a good husband.’
‘This is not the place to bring up the subject.’
‘The two of you were made for each other.’
‘That is not true at all,’ she asserted, ‘and you know it.’
‘Gideon loves you.’
‘Perhaps I ought to withdraw,’ volunteered Colbeck, seeing Madeleine’s patent discomfort. ‘Thank you for talking to me, Mr Andrews. Meeting you has been an education.’
‘Let me know when you catch up with those villains.’
‘I will, I promise you.’ He moved to the door. ‘Goodbye, Miss Andrews. I can see myself out.’
‘Wait,’ she said. ‘Let me come to the front door with you.’
‘But you clearly have something to discuss with your father.’
‘High time that she discussed it with Gideon Little,’ said Andrews.
Madeleine shot him a look of reproof and followed Colbeck down the stairs. Before she could apologise to him, the detective retrieved his silk hat from the table and opened the front door.
‘Goodbye, Miss Andrews,’ he said, masking his disappointment behind a smile. ‘Allow me congratulate you on your forthcoming engagement.’
It was Victor Leeming’s turn to face the wrath of Superintendent Tallis once more. A night’s sleep had not improved the older man’s temper. He was pacing up and down his room like a caged animal. When Leeming came in, Tallis rounded on him accusingly.
‘Where have you been, man?’ he demanded.
‘Making inquiries, sir.’
‘That is exactly what those jackals from the press have been doing. They almost drove me insane by making their damned inquiries. I had a dozen of them in here this morning,’ he complained, ‘wanting to know why we had made no progress with our investigation into the robbery, and why Inspector Colbeck was also in charge of this latest murder case.’
‘The two crimes are connected, Superintendent.’
‘They could not understand how.’
‘Why not let the Inspector deal with the newspapers in future?’
‘I’d never countenance that,’ affirmed Tallis. ‘My seniority obliges me to take on that particular duty and I have never been one to shun the cares of office. Besides, I want you and the Inspector out there, solving the crime, not getting distracted by a bevy of reporters.’
‘What did you tell them?’ asked Leeming.
‘Enough to give them a story but no more. The information we feed to the press has to be carefully controlled. Give too much away and we alert the very people we are trying to apprehend.’
‘I agree with you there, sir.’
‘The main thing was,’ said Tallis, ‘to ensure that they did not get wind of Mulryne’s role in this whole sorry af
fair. It was reckless of Inspector Colbeck to use that Irish blockhead in the way that he did.’ He confronted the Sergeant. ‘I presume that you condoned his decision.’
‘Not entirely,’ admitted Leeming, uneasily.
Tallis blenched. ‘You mean that he did not even have the grace to tell you what he was proposing? That is unpardonable.’
‘The Inspector did raise the matter,’ said the other, lying to protect his colleague, ‘and I could see the advantage of using Brendan Mulryne.’
‘What advantage?’
‘He knew where to look for William Ings.’
‘So did the killer.’
‘That’s why we’re making efforts to track down the other suspect, sir. Inspector Colbeck gave me an address that was passed on to him at the Chubb factory in Wolverhampton. It was a locksmith’s where a man called Daniel Slender was supposed to have worked.’ He put a hand in his pocket. ‘I have just returned from the factory.’
‘But this Daniel Slender was not employed there?’
‘No, sir.’
‘I daresay that they never heard of him.’
‘That’s not true,’ said Leeming, taking out a letter to pass to him. ‘When they advertised a post, Daniel Slender was among those who applied for it, as you will see from that letter.’ Tallis began to read the missive. ‘His qualifications are good and he could have expected a strong recommendation from the Chubb factory. Mr Slender was invited to come for an interview.’
‘But?’
‘He never turned up.’
‘Then why apply for the post?’
‘So that he would have written evidence to show to his employers that the position he was after did exist. They believed that he went for that interview,’ said Leeming, ‘and secured the appointment. It meant that his departure aroused no suspicion.’
‘Where is Daniel Slender now?’
‘Here in London, sir.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Because he had always had an ambition to work here. According to the manager at the Chubb factory, he talked of little else. But he was tied to the Midlands by the need to look after his sick mother.’
‘If the woman had stayed alive,’ moaned Tallis, ‘her son would never have got drawn into this conspiracy.’ He waved the letter in front of Leeming. ‘Look at the fellow’s work record. It is admirable.’
‘Those who bribed him must have caught him at a weak moment.’
‘We need to get to him while he is still alive.’
‘Inspector Colbeck feels that we should put out a wanted poster. He came back from Wolverhampton with a good description of Daniel Slender. We should circulate it at once.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Tallis. ‘Have the poster drawn up, Sergeant Leeming. And – quickly! The last thing we need is for this man to finish up on a slab next to William Ings.’
The dog made the discovery. Scampering along the river-bank with his master, he went sniffing at a heap that lay up against a wall. It was covered with sacking and most people had walked past without even noticing it. The little terrier made sure that nobody would ignore it now. With the sacking gripped in his teeth, he pulled hard and exposed a pair of legs, then a body, then a head that was split grotesquely open and crowned with dried blood.
When she saw the corpse, a female passer-by screamed and clutched at her chest, the dog’s owner ran to put the animal on his lead and another man went off in search of help. By the time that he returned, with two policemen in tow, he saw that a small crowd was standing around the body with ghoulish curiosity. The policemen ordered everyone to stand back while they checked for vital signs and, finding none, felt in the dead man’s pockets for clues as to his identity.
The pockets of his immaculate suit were empty but that did not matter. Sewn into the silk lining of the jacket was the owner’s name.
‘Daniel Slender,’ noted one of the policemen. ‘Poor man!’
Inspector Robert Colbeck responded swiftly. The moment he heard about the second murder, he visited the scene of the crime, examined the body and gave permission for it to be moved. Half an hour later, Daniel Slender had been deprived of his new suit, as well as the remainder of his apparel, washed and laid out, beneath a shroud, on a cold slab at the morgue. Victor Leeming joined his colleague to look down at the corpse.
‘Those wanted posters will not be needed now,’ he said.
‘No, Victor.’
‘They closed his mouth for good.’
‘Mr Slender will never enjoy wearing that new suit of his.’
Leeming was thoroughly perplexed. ‘How did they know where to find him, Inspector?’ he asked. ‘That’s what I fail to see. And how did they know where to get hold of William Ings, for that matter?’
‘By using an insurance policy.’
‘Insurance policy?’
‘Yes,’ said Colbeck. ‘The person behind the robbery realised from the start that both these men would have to be killed. They knew too much and, in the event of arrest, lacked the guile to conceal their secrets. My guess is that he paid them some of the money for services rendered, and promised to give them the balance when the crime was successfully committed. To do that,’ he pointed out, ‘Mr Ings and Mr Slender would have had to disclose their whereabouts.’
‘What if there’s a third accomplice?’
‘Then he, too, is likely to be silenced.’
‘My feeling is that he works for the Royal Mint.’
‘Yet there’s no breath of suspicion against anyone there.’
‘Someone told the robbers when gold coin was being moved by train. The only person outside the Mint who knew the relevant date was Mr Shipperley at the Post Office and, as we found out when we spoke to him, he is certainly not involved.’ Leeming gave a mirthless laugh. ‘He’d sooner sell his grandmother to a brothel-keeper.’
‘You have a point, Victor.’
‘The information must have originated from the Royal Mint.’
‘Perhaps you should pay a second visit there.’
‘Yes, Inspector.’
‘I, meanwhile, will visit Bond Street to speak to Daniel Slender’s tailor. He will be able to tell me precisely when the suit was ordered and give me some idea of what manner of man his customer was.’
‘A foolish one.’
‘Mr Slender was offered a large amount of money to create a new life for himself,’ said Colbeck, tolerantly. ‘That would be a temptation for anyone in his position. It was too much for William Ings to resist as well.’
‘Did you speak to his wife, sir?’
‘First thing this morning.’
‘How did she receive the news that she was now a widow?’
‘Very bravely,’ replied Colbeck. ‘Mark you, Mrs Ings does have something to console her in her bereavement.’
‘And what’s that?’
‘The best part of two hundred pounds, Victor. The money was put through her letterbox last night by an anonymous hand.’
‘Two hundred pounds?’ said Leeming in astonishment. ‘That’s a substantial amount. Who is her benefactor?’
‘William Ings.’
‘Her husband?’
‘Indirectly,’ said Colbeck. ‘My feeling is that the money paid to him for providing information was given to his wife after his death. The man who authorised payment clearly knew that Maud Ings would be left destitute by her husband’s demise. He sought to help her.’
‘Murdering her husband is hardly a way to help.’
‘Perhaps he is trying to make amends. Do you see what we have here, Victor? A ruthless killer with a conscience. That’s a weakness.’
‘What about the money paid to Daniel Slender?’
‘That has doubtless been repossessed,’ said Colbeck, ‘because he had no family to whom it could be left. Mr Ings did. However, when I told her where her gift came from, his wife was not at all sure that she should keep it.’
‘Why not?’
‘She thought that it was tainted money.’
/> ‘It could not have come from the proceeds of the robbery.’
‘That’s what I said to her. In the end, I persuaded her that she had every right to keep the money. Incidentally,’ he went on, lowering his voice, ‘this is not something that needs to come to the ears of Mr Tallis. He would be certain to misunderstand and might even argue that the money should be taken from the widow.’
‘That would be unfair.’
‘Then say nothing, Victor. I speak to you in confidence.’
‘It would have been very helpful had you done that before,’ said Leeming, as he recalled his bruising encounter with the Superintendent. ‘You should have told me that you were thinking of employing Mulryne.’
‘You would only have tried to talk me out of it.’
‘I would, Inspector. No question about that.’
‘Brendan has his uses.’
‘With respect, sir, that’s beside the point. You kept me ignorant.’
‘Only as a means of defending you from Mr Tallis.’
‘You did the opposite,’ protested Leeming. ‘You exposed me to his anger. He demanded to know if you’d discussed your intentions with me and I was forced to lie in order to cover for you.’
‘Thank you, Victor. I appreciate that.’
‘I can’t say that I appreciated being put in that position, sir.’
‘You have my profound apologies,’ said Colbeck. ‘I may have expected too much of Brendan Mulryne. I accept the blame for that. But,’ he continued, glancing down at the body once more, ‘let us put that mistake behind us. So far, we have a train robbery and two murders to investigate. What we must try to do is to anticipate their next move.’
‘To kill their source at the Royal Mint?’
‘If there is such a person.’
‘There is, Inspector. I feel it in my bones.’
‘What I believe is that they will not just sit back and enjoy the fruits of their crime. They want more than the money they stole.’
Leeming pointed a finger. ‘Those mail bags.’
‘Exactly,’ said Colbeck. ‘Why go to the trouble of stealing them if there was no profit to be made from their contents? Yes, Victor. I think that it’s only a matter of time before we hear about some of the mail that went astray.’