‘Why are we going all the way to Cumberland?’
‘We have a crime to solve.’
‘But we don’t even know that a crime has been committed. From what you told me in the cab, we’re being dragged out of London simply because a Hallowe’en excursion was cancelled.’
‘There’s more to it than that, Victor.’
‘You said the telegraph gave very few details.’
‘That’s true.’
‘Then why are we paying the slightest attention to it? More to the point, why did the superintendent take any notice of it? You know how much he dislikes sending us to a distant part of the country when there’s so much crime to solve in London.’
‘It was not Superintendent Tallis’s decision. What I didn’t know was that the man who dispatched the telegraph was a friend of the commissioner and the request first went to him. So you needn’t blame the superintendent,’ said Colbeck. ‘The person you need to thank for sending us on this little jaunt is Sir Richard Mayne.’
Leeming was surly. ‘It’s going to be a lot more than a little jaunt,’ he complained.
‘Try to show some compassion, Victor. Instead of worrying about your own discomfort, think of other people. A mysterious fire appeared on a railway track, an excursion was summarily abandoned, and a man has unaccountably vanished. He’ll have a family,’ Colbeck pointed out. ‘They’ll be consumed by grief.’
Melissa Haslam lay stretched out on her bed and dabbed at her red-rimmed eyes with an already damp handkerchief. She was an astonishingly beautiful young woman but her face was now distorted by anguish and her mind was clouded by despair. All hope of happiness had been abruptly stolen away from her. She was quite inconsolable. Two days earlier she’d been thinking about her forthcoming marriage, but there was no longer a future husband. Her beloved Alex Piper had gone.
CHAPTER THREE
‘The Lake District?’ cried Caleb Andrews, aghast. ‘Why on earth is Robert going there?’
‘He isn’t entirely sure, Father,’ said Madeleine Colbeck. ‘According to the letter he had delivered here by hand, he and Sergeant Leeming were sent off to solve a mystery concerning some event at Hallowe’en. It had to be abandoned because the person who organised it disappeared without trace. Foul play is suspected.’
Andrews grimaced. ‘Don’t talk to me about Hallowe’en, Maddy. It was the bane of my life. There were always some idiots who decided the best way to celebrate it was to sneak aboard the train I was driving to cause mischief, or pelt me and my fireman with rotten apples as we drove past. I used to hate working that particular night,’ he said, resentfully. ‘Some people have a twisted idea of fun.’
Though it was years since he’d retired from his job as an engine driver for the London and North Western Railway, memories of his working life remained vivid. The problem was that he felt his long experience as a railwayman entitled him to act as an unpaid advisor to his son-in-law, and he was annoyed that Colbeck somehow never felt the need to call on him.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘at least he’s travelling with the best railway company in the whole country. A locomotive belonging to the LNWR will take him there speedily and comfortably.’
‘I just hope that it brings him back home very soon.’
‘By rights, he should never have gone. Gallivanting around the country is not the way a father should behave. His wife and daughter need him here. In the course of this year, he’s travelled hundreds and hundreds of miles to arrest vicious criminals in faraway places. What’s wrong with London?’ he asked. ‘We have more murders here than anywhere. Aren’t our killers good enough for him?’
Madeleine laughed. ‘You’re so funny sometimes, Father.’
She was always pleased to see him and, since Colbeck was likely to be away for some time, she’d have to rely even more on the old man’s company. Ostensibly, he’d called to enjoy some time with his granddaughter, but his real purpose had been to see Madeleine again. When his wife had died, Andrews had been shattered and only his daughter’s unstinting love and support had carried him through a very difficult period. Every time he looked at her, he saw a younger version of his late wife. It always lifted his spirits.
‘When do I get to play with my granddaughter?’ he asked.
‘When she’s had her nap.’
‘That girl is always sleeping. It’s not healthy.’
‘She seemed to be awake for twenty-four hours a day when she was first born. I’m glad of any respite. It’s the one time I can get to my studio.’
‘You’re a mother, Maddy.’
‘You don’t need to remind me.’
‘Helen must come first. You can always work on your painting when you’ve put her to bed.’
There was no point in arguing with him. It was unfair to expect him to understand the impulses that had made her an artist or to share the intense pleasure it gave her to stand in front of an easel to create something entirely new. She moved to the door.
‘I’ll order some tea.’
‘In the old days,’ he said, wistfully, ‘you used to make it yourself. Now you have a servant to do it for you.’ He looked around the spacious drawing room. ‘You’ve come up in the world, Maddy. I’m proud of you.’
‘Thank you, Father.’
‘I must take some credit, mind you.’
‘Why?’
‘Well, if it hadn’t been for that robbery on my train, you’d never even have met Robert Colbeck.’
It was true. Andrews had been the engine driver on a train that was brought to a halt by a gang. When he refused to do what the robbers wanted, he was badly beaten. Madeleine still shuddered when she recalled the incident.
‘You were in a dreadful state when I got there,’ she said. ‘We weren’t at all sure that you’d recover.’
He chuckled. ‘It takes more than a bang on the head to finish me off,’ he boasted. ‘Besides, I had good reason to stay alive. I knew that one day I’d take you down the aisle to marry the clever detective inspector who caught those train robbers.’
Rail travel was such an unalloyed pleasure for Colbeck that he never minded how long a journey might be. There was always something interesting to see out of the window and he loved to plot his journey by referring to his copy of Bradshaw’s Descriptive Railway Hand-Book. Leeming, by contrast, was suffering. The combination of noise, discomfort, boredom and a musty smell made the trip an ordeal for him. Though he tried hard to read the article in The Times, it failed to hold his interest. He didn’t need a doctor to tell him that travelling by train could destroy the human mind. As Leeming put the newspaper aside, Colbeck glanced across at him.
‘What did you think of that article, Victor?’
‘It upset me, sir.’
‘Would you rather borrow my copy of Bradshaw?’ asked Colbeck, holding it up.
‘I can’t think of anything worse than reading that.’
‘But it’s an indispensable guide. Don’t you want to know where you’re likely to be staying in Kendal?’
Leeming sat up with interest. ‘Well, yes. I do.’
‘We’re offered a choice between the King’s Arms and the Commercial Hotel.’
‘Which one serves the best beer?’
‘That’s one thing Bradshaw doesn’t tell us,’ said Colbeck. ‘Besides, I’m sure there’ll be more than those two places where we can be accommodated during the investigation. I promise you that the quality of its beer will be taken into account.’
‘Tell me about the man who sent that telegraph.’
‘He’s the Lord Lieutenant of the county and his nephew went missing in peculiar circumstances.’
‘What does a Lord Lieutenant do, sir?’
‘From what I understand,’ replied Colbeck, ‘it’s largely a titular appointment. The Lord Lieutenant has taken on the responsibilities that fell in the olden days to sheriffs. That means, for instance, that he’s in command of the county militia. If there’s a breakdown in law and order, he can call them out.’
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‘Superintendent Tallis would love a job like that.’
‘He’d also enjoy wearing a splendid uniform with a rose and crown badge on the cap and shoulder boards.’ They shared a laugh. ‘At least, that’s what the old superintendent would have done. The new one is rather different.’
‘He’ll be the same man-eating ogre underneath, sir,’ insisted Leeming, ruefully.
‘Suspend your judgement until you actually meet him again.’
Leeming lapsed into silence. After gazing through the window for a while, he made another attempt to read the article in the newspaper and sympathised with those who’d been, like him, hapless victims of rail travel. He was heartened by the fact that he was not alone in his misery. Casting The Times aside once more, he pulled out the watch from his waistcoat pocket and looked at it.
‘We’ve been on the way for hours,’ he moaned.
‘And there are still hours to go before we reach Oxenholme and change trains. I can, however, offer you some consolation,’ said Colbeck. ‘While we’ve been in transit, the search for the missing man has no doubt been going on with renewed intensity. It’s possible that he’s been found unharmed and we are therefore no longer needed.’ Leeming smiled hopefully. ‘In that case, we’ll have the pleasure of catching the next available train and enjoying another long and fascinating journey.’
When she was told that Lord Culverhouse had called to see her, Melissa Haslam was initially reluctant to see him. She felt that she was in no state to speak to any visitor, preferring to stay in her bedroom. It took time, but her mother eventually persuaded her that she ought to talk to Culverhouse if only out of the respect due to his position in society. Melissa made an effort to pull herself together, then spent several minutes brushing her hair in front of the mirror and trying to master her emotions. When she at last felt ready, she and her mother went downstairs.
Lord Culverhouse was sitting in the drawing room. As soon as she came in, he was on his feet at once, crossing to squeeze her hands in greeting and offering her his sympathy. Melissa immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion.
‘Does that mean you’ve found Alex?’ she asked, lower lip trembling. ‘Have you come to tell me that he’s dead?’
‘Not at all,’ he said, quickly. ‘The search continues and we remain hopeful that Alex is out there somewhere.’
‘Then why has there been no sign of him?’
‘I have a theory about that, Melissa, and it’s supported by what Geoffrey Hedley told me. When he saw that fire blocking the line, Alex ran off to investigate.’
‘I heard that a wall of flame suddenly shot up.’
‘That’s right,’ said Culverhouse. ‘Alex ran straight through it and, we believe, chased the man who’d caused that blaze in the first place. At some point, we feel, the rogue must have turned and fought with Alex, knocking him unconscious.’
‘Then Geoffrey and the others who launched an immediate search should have found him.’
‘It was pitch-dark, Melissa, and they had no lanterns. When he caught up with that man, Alex might have been a long way away from the railway track.’
‘Then he’d still have been there in daylight,’ suggested Bridget Haslam, a short, slight, agitated woman. ‘Why didn’t he simply walk back home or, at the very least, go to the nearest house and ask for help?’
‘There’s an answer to that, Mrs Haslam,’ he said, ‘and it bolsters my theory. If he had a severe blow to the head, he might have been badly concussed. Alex wasn’t able to find his way back here because he was in a complete daze. He’s just walked – or staggered – blindly around the countryside since the fight and may no longer even be in the county.’
‘That’s a dreadful thought!’ exclaimed Melissa, bringing a hand up to her mouth.
‘No, it isn’t,’ said her mother. ‘It means that he could still be alive.’
‘But he’s spent two nights out in the cold and doesn’t know where he is. Will he ever get his senses back again, my lord? Can Alex ever lead a normal life again?’
‘It’s only a theory, Melissa, and I hoped that it might comfort you. But I really came to pass on some important news. Since our search parties have so far failed, I have summoned a detective from London who is uncannily successful at solving crimes that take place on the railway.’
‘That means you think Alex was murdered,’ she gasped.
‘If that was the case,’ said her mother, putting an arm around her, ‘they’d have stumbled upon the body by now.’
‘Quite right, Mrs Haslam,’ he agreed. ‘What I came to ask your daughter was this. Think very carefully before you answer, Melissa. I know that you and Alex liked to go walking. It was one of the things that drew you together, wasn’t it?’
‘That’s true,’ said Melissa. ‘We love to explore.’
‘Is there a place that is particularly special to you, somewhere private that you often go to with him?’ She shook her head. ‘Are you quite sure? There are so many wonderful spots to visit – peaks, fells, moors, lakes and so on. You and Alex must have a favourite. If we knew where it was,’ he said, ‘we would see if he somehow found his way there by instinct.’
‘There is no favourite place, my lord,’ she confessed. ‘When I’m with Alex, everywhere we go is special.’
‘That’s as it should be.’
‘But tell me more about this detective from London. Can he really do what the search parties have so far failed to do?’
‘I firmly believe that he can.’
‘Yet we’ve already had police involved in the search.’
‘They lack the expertise of a man like Inspector Colbeck. He’ll be arriving this evening, and – here’s an example of his thoughtfulness – he had the foresight to send a telegraph telling me which train he’d be on. I feel certain that Colbeck will be the answer to our prayers.’ Culverhouse drew himself up to his full height. ‘I’ve ordered Hedley to be on the platform to welcome him.’
‘I’d like to meet him as well,’ she said.
‘All in good time,’ he told her. ‘He’ll want to speak first to those who were actually on that Phantom Special. That’s where his search must start.’
On the last leg of their journey, they had to go the short distance between Oxenholme and Kendal. Though it was an area of outstanding scenic beauty, the detectives were unable to enjoy the view because light was fading badly and a heavy drizzle was adding a second curtain between them and the passing landscape. While Colbeck was delighted that they were close to their destination, Leeming was simply glad that he’d survived the journey without joining the ranks of those driven into incurable madness by the rigours of rail travel.
‘All we ever did at Hallowe’en,’ he said, ‘was to duck for apples.’
‘It’s a harmless but amusing tradition, Victor.’
‘We could never afford to hire a train for the night.’
‘I suspect that the good people of Kendal will regret that they did so. What began as an enjoyable excursion seems to have ended in disaster.’
‘It’s obvious that the missing man is dead.’
‘I’m keeping an open mind,’ said Colbeck. ‘One thing is certain: alive or dead, it’s our job to find him.’
The train began to lose speed and it was not long before it drew into Kendal Station and came to a halt. Gathering up their luggage, the detectives alighted onto the platform. Two men approached them at once. Geoffrey Hedley introduced himself and gave them a cordial welcome. The porter he’d brought with him took charge of the luggage. As they moved towards the exit, Hedley passed on the bad news.
‘We still haven’t found Alex,’ he said. ‘Dozens of us have been involved in looking for him but to no avail.’
‘Who is coordinating the search?’
‘I suppose that I am, Inspector, though I’m operating under instructions from Lord Culverhouse.’
‘Did he take part in the excursion?’
‘No, but I did. In fact, I was in the same compart
ment with Alex when the train came to an emergency halt. He’s my closest friend. I simply can’t believe that he’s disappeared. By the way,’ he went on, ‘I’ve taken the liberty of booking you both in to the Riverside Hotel for the night. Needless to say, all your expenses will be paid.’
‘Thank you,’ said Colbeck.
‘What’s their beer like?’ asked Leeming.
‘We’ll soon find out, Sergeant. Meanwhile, let’s concentrate on our purpose for being here.’ He turned to Hedley. ‘What’s your opinion?’
‘To be honest,’ replied the other, ‘I’m struggling to remain optimistic. Lord Culverhouse has a theory and I pretend to endorse it when I’m with him, but I can’t really subscribe to it.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s too fanciful. He believes that Alex chased after the person who started that fire but, when he caught up with him, was knocked out in a fierce struggle. Lord Culverhouse argues that his nephew is in a daze, wandering blindly about the countryside without having a clue where he is.’
‘I feel like that after a long train journey,’ said Leeming under his breath. He raised his voice. ‘What exactly happened during the excursion, Mr Hedley?’
Having reached the waiting coach provided by Lord Culverhouse, they clambered into it. On the way to their accommodation, the lawyer gave them a succinct account of what had happened on the Phantom Special and of subsequent events. Colbeck was grateful to be dealing with someone so educated and articulate. In a matter of minutes, they’d heard all of the salient details.
‘You say that Mr Piper was about to get married,’ observed Colbeck. ‘Why didn’t his future bride travel with him on the excursion?’
‘Miss Haslam is unduly nervous.’
‘I’d say she made the right decision,’ Leeming interjected. ‘I wouldn’t have wanted to grope around in the dark for hours on end, searching for the missing man. The excursion was a total failure.’
Fear on the Phantom Special Page 2