The railway viaduct irc-3

by Edward Marston

  When he got back from work that evening, Caleb Andrews found a meal waiting for him. Since he had good news to impart about the murder investigation, he surrendered his paper to Madeleine and drew her attention to the relevant report. She was thrilled to read of Robert Colbeck's success in France. Her faith in him had never wavered and she had been disturbed by the harsh criticism he had received in the press. Public rebuke had now been replaced by congratulation. He was once again being hailed for his skill as a detective.

  When the meal was over, Andrews was in such an ebullient mood that he challenged his daughter to a game of draughts. He soon repented of his folly. Madeleine won the first two games and had him on the defensive in the third one.

  'I can't seem to beat you,' he complained.

  'You were the one who taught me how to play draughts.'

  'I obviously taught you too well.'

  'When we first started,' she recalled, 'you won every game.'

  'The only thing I seem to do now is to lose.'

  He was spared a third defeat by a knock on the front door. Glad of the interruption, he was out of his chair at once. He went to the door and opened it. Robert Colbeck smiled at him.

  'Good evening, Mr Andrews,' he said.

  'Ah, you're back from France.'

  'At long last.'

  'We read about you in the paper.'

  'Don't keep Robert standing out there,' said Madeleine, coming up behind her father. 'Invite him in.'

  Andrews stood back so that Colbeck could enter the house, remove his hat and, under her father's watchful eye, give Madeleine a chaste kiss on the cheek. They went into the living room. The first thing that Colbeck saw was the draughts board.

  'Who's winning?' he asked.

  'Maddy,' replied Andrews, gloomily.

  'This game was a draw, Father,' she said, eyes never leaving Colbeck. 'Oh, it's so lovely to see you again, Robert! What exactly happened in France?'

  'And why did you have to solve crimes on their railways? Don't they have any police of their own?'

  'They do, Mr Andrews,' replied Colbeck, 'but this was, in a sense, a British crime. It was almost like working over here. British contractors have built most of their railways and French locomotives are largely the work of Thomas Crampton.'

  'I'm the one person you don't need to tell that to, Inspector,' said Andrews, knowledgeably. 'In fact, there are far more Cramptons in France than here in England. Lord knows why. I've driven three or four of his engines and I like them. Shall I tell you why?'

  'Another time, Father,' said Madeleine.

  'But the Inspector is interested in engineering, Maddy.'

  'This is not the best moment to discuss it.'

  'What?' Andrews looked from one to the other. 'Well, perhaps it isn't,' he said, moving away. 'Now where did I leave my tobacco pouch? It must be upstairs.' He paused at the door. 'Don't forget to show him that picture you drew of the Sankey Viaduct, Maddy.'

  He went out of the room and Colbeck was able to embrace Madeleine properly. Over her shoulder, he saw that the tobacco pouch was on the table beside the draughts. He was grateful for her father's tact. He stood back but kept hold of her hands.

  'What's this about the Sankey Viaduct?'

  'Oh, it was just something I sketched to pass the time,' she said. 'It's probably nothing at all like the real thing.'

  'I'd be interested to see it, all the same.'

  'Your work is far more important than mine, Robert. Come and sit down. Tell me what's happened since I last saw you.'

  'That would take far too long,' he said, as they sat beside each other on the sofa. 'I'll give you a shortened version.'

  He told her about his visit to Paris and his long conversation with Gaston Chabal's mother-in-law. Madeleine was startled by the revelation that the engineer appeared to have seduced another woman for the sole purpose of gaining an additional investor in the railway. She was fascinated to hear of Brendan Mulryne's success as a spy and pleased that Superintendent Tallis had been forced to admit that the Irishman had performed a valuable service.

  'Mr Tallis couldn't actually bring himself to thank Brendan in person,' said Colbeck. 'That would have been asking too much. What he did concede was that the notion of putting an informer into the ranks of the navvies had, after all, been a sensible one.'

  'Coming from the superintendent, that's high praise.'

  'I pointed out that Brendan Mulryne would be an asset if he were allowed to rejoin the police force but Mr Tallis would not hear of it. He'd sooner recruit a tribe of cannibals.'

  'Why is he so critical of your methods?'

  'There's always been a degree of animus between us.'

  'Is he envious of you?'

  'It's more a case of disapproval, Madeleine.'

  'How could he possibly disapprove of a man with your record?'

  'Quite easily,' said Colbeck with a grin. 'Mr Tallis doesn't like the way I dress, the approach I take to any case and the readiness I have to use people such as Brendan Mulryne. Also, I'm afraid to say, he looks askance at my private life.'

  She gave a laugh of surprise. 'Your private life!'

  'He thinks that you're leading me astray.'

  'Me?'

  'I was only joking, Madeleine,' he said, putting an arm around her. 'The truth is that Superintendent Tallis doesn't believe that his detectives should have a private life. He thinks that we should be like him – unattached and therefore able to devote every waking hour to our job with no distractions.'

  'Is that what I am – a distraction?'

  'Yes – thank heaven!' He kissed her on the lips. 'Now, let's see this drawing of the Sankey Viaduct.'

  'You won't like it, Robert.'

  'Why not?'

  'It's too fanciful.'

  'I love anything that you do, Madeleine,' he said, warmly. 'And it must be worth seeing if your father recommends it.'

  'He only saw an earlier version.'

  'Please fetch it.'

  'I'm not sure that I should.'

  'Why are you being so bashful? I really want to see it.'

  'If you wish,' she said, getting up, 'but you must remember that it's a work of imagination. It has no resemblance to the real viaduct.' She crossed the room to pick up a portfolio that rested in an alcove. Opening it up, she selected a drawing. 'It was simply a way of keeping you in my mind while you were in France.'

  'Then I must have a look at it.'

  Colbeck rose to his feet and took the sketch from her hand. He was intrigued. The viaduct dominated the page, but what gave him a sudden thrill of recognition was the way that it connected England and France. It was like a bridge across a wide gulf. He let out a cry of joy and hugged her to him. Madeleine was mystified.

  'What have I done to deserve that?' she said.

  'You've just solved a murder!'

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Victor Leeming was thoroughly delighted when Colbeck called on him that morning. Simply seeing the inspector again was a tonic to him. Time had been hanging with undue heaviness on his hands and he desperately missed being involved in the murder investigation. He felt that he was letting the inspector down. They sat down together in the cramped living room of Leeming's house. He listened attentively to the recitation of events that had taken place in France, only interrupting when a certain name was mentioned.

  'Brendan Mulryne?'

  'Yes, Victor.'

  'There was no reference to him in the newspapers.'

  'Mr Tallis made sure of that,' said Colbeck. 'He refused to give any public acknowledgement to Brendan because he felt that it would demean us if we admitted any reliance on people like him. As it happens, I would have kept his name secret for another reason.'

  'What's that, Inspector?'

  'I may want to employ him again. If his name and description are plastered all over the newspapers, it would make that difficult. He needs to be kept anonymous.'

  'I'm not sure that I'd have used him at all,' admitted Leeming.
>
  'That's why I didn't discuss the matter with you.'

  'I like Mulryne – he's good company – but I'd never trust him with anything important. He's likely to go off the rails.'

  Colbeck smiled. 'In this case,' he pointed out, 'he did the exact opposite. Instead of going off the rails, he kept Mr Brassey on them. Largely because of what Brendan did, the railway can still be built.'

  'Then I congratulate him.'

  'You have a reason to thank him as well, Victor.'

  'Do I?'

  'One of the men who gave you the beating was Pierce Shannon.'

  'I'm not surprised to hear it. He was a sly character.'

  'Brendan laid him out cold on your behalf.'

  'I wish I'd been there to do it myself,' said Leeming, grimly.

  'The other man who attacked you was Liam Kilfoyle.'

  'Liam? And I thought he was a friend of mine!'

  'Not any more,' said Colbeck. 'I had the pleasure of exchanging a few blows with Mr Kilfoyle. I let him know what I felt about people who assaulted my sergeant.'

  'Thank you, sir.'

  Colbeck told him about the capture of the villains and how they had been handed over to the French police the next day. Thomas Brassey and Aubrey Filton had been overwhelmed with gratitude. The second visit to France had been eventful. Colbeck felt satisfied.

  'So that part of the investigation is now concluded,' he said.

  'What comes next?'

  'The small matter of tracking down the killer.'

  'Do you have any clues, Inspector?'

  'Yes, Victor. One of them came from the most unexpected source, but that's often the way with police work. And I'm a great believer in serendipity.'

  Leeming was honest. 'So would I be, if I knew what it meant.'

  'Picking up a good thing where you find it.'

  'Ah, I see. A bit like beachcombing.'

  'Not really,' said Colbeck. 'Beachcombing implies that you deliberately go in search of something. Serendipity depends entirely on chance. You might not even be looking for a particular clue until you stumble upon it in the most unlikely place.'

  'Serendipity. I'll remember that word. It will impress Estelle.'

  'How is your wife?'

  'She's been a tower of strength, sir.'

  'Happy to have you at home so much, I should imagine.'

  'Yes and no,' said Leeming, sucking in air through his teeth. 'Estelle is happy to have me here but not when I'm convalescing. She'd like more of a husband and a bit less of a patient.'

  'You seem to be recovering well.'

  Leeming's facial scars had almost disappeared now and the heavy bruising on his body had also faded. What remained were the cracked ribs that occasionally reminded him that they were there by causing a spasm of pain. He refused to give in to his injuries.

  'I'm as fit as a fiddle, sir,' he said, cheerily. 'But for the doctor, I'd be back at work right now.'

  'Doctors usually know best.'

  'It's so boring and wasteful, sitting at home here.'

  'Do you get out at all?'

  'Every day, Inspector. I have a long walk and I sometimes take the children to the park. I can get about quite easily.'

  'That's good news. We look forward to having you back.'

  'I can't wait,' said Leeming. 'Much as I love Estelle and the children, I do hate being unemployed. It feels wrong somehow. I'm not a man who can rest, sir. I like action.'

  'You had rather too much of it in France.'

  'I like to think that I helped.'

  'You did, Victor,' said Colbeck. 'You did indeed.'

  'Mind you, I couldn't make a living as a navvy. A week of that kind of work would have finished me off. They earn their money.'

  'Unfortunately, some of them tried to earn it by other means.'

  'Yes,' said the other with feeling. 'Shannon and his friends were too greedy. They wanted more than Mr Brassey could ever pay them. Pierce Shannon always had an ambitious streak. It's a pity you got so little out of him when you questioned him.'

  'That's not true.'

  'He couldn't even tell you the name of the man who paid him.'

  'Oh, I think that he gave us a lot more information than he realised,' said Colbeck. 'To begin with, we now know how he and his paymaster first met.'

  'In a police cell.'

  'What does that tell you?'

  'Nothing that I couldn't have guessed about Shannon, sir. He got involved in a brawl and was arrested for disturbing the peace. Men like that always get into trouble when they've had a few drinks.' He cleared his throat. 'I'm bound to point out that the same thing happened to Brendan Mulryne after he'd left the police force.'

  'He might not be the only policeman that we lost.'

  'I don't think that Shannon was ever in uniform, sir.'

  'What about the man who employed him?'

  'We know nothing whatsoever about the fellow.'

  'Yes, we do,' said Colbeck. 'We know that he's able to talk to someone in a police cell, which means that he's either a lawyer, a policeman or someone who used to be involved in law enforcement. I'd hazard a guess that he has friends in the police force, or he'd not have been given such easy access to a prisoner. Also, of course, we do have his Christian name.'

  'Luke.'

  'You can find out the rest when you get there.'

  'Where?'

  'To the station where Pierce Shannon was detained.'

  Leeming was taken aback. 'You want me to do that, sir?'

  'You enjoy a long walk, don't you?'

  'Yes.'

  'And you're chafing at the bit while you're sitting here.'

  'I am, Inspector – that's the plain truth.'

  'Then you can return to light duties immediately.' His grin was conspiratorial. 'Provided that you don't mention the fact to Mr Tallis, that is. He might not understand. He has a preference for making all operational decisions himself.'

  'I won't breathe a single word to him.'

  'Not even serendipity?'

  'I'm saving that one for my wife.'

  'Does that mean you're willing to help us, Victor?'

  Leeming struggled to his feet. 'I'm on my way, sir.'

  They noticed the difference at once. It was as if a threatening black cloud that had been hanging over the site had suddenly dispersed to let bright sunshine through. In fact, it was raining that morning but nothing could dampen their spirits or that of the navvies. Hectic activity was continuing apace. They were now certain to complete the stipulated amount of work on the railway by the end of the month. The sudden and dramatic improvement made Aubrey Filton blossom into an unaccustomed smile.

  'This is how it should be, Mr Brassey,' he said. 'Now that we've got rid of the rotten apples from the barrel, we can surge ahead.'

  'Word spread quickly. When they heard about the arrests, the men were as relieved as we were. And you can't blame them,' said Brassey, reasonably. 'If work had ground to a halt here, I'd have been in danger of losing the contract. Thousands of them would have been thrown out of work. Their livelihoods have been saved.'

  'And your reputation has been vindicated.'

  'I care more about them than about me, Aubrey.'

  'You treat them like members of a huge family.'

  'That's exactly what they are.'

  They were at the window, gazing out at sodden navvies who laboured away as if impervious to rain. There was a new spirit about the way everyone was working. It was almost as if the many wanted to atone for the dire shortcomings of the few by demonstrating their commitment to the project. Eamonn Slattery had noticed it. The priest was standing between the two men.

  'Look at them,' he said with pride. 'There's not a navvy alive who can match an Irishman when it comes to hard physical work. The Potato Famine nearly crippled our beloved country but it was a blessing to someone like you, Mr Brassey.'

  'I agree, Father Slattery,' conceded the other. 'A lot of the men here emigrated from Ireland. I was glad to take them
on. What's the feeling among them now?'

  'Oh, they reacted with a mixture of thanks and outrage.'

  'Inspector Colbeck deserves most of the thanks.'

  'So I hear,' said Slattery with a cackle. 'And there was me, thinking that dandy was working for the Minister of Public Works. He took me in completely but, then, so did Brendan Mulryne.'

  'He's the real hero here,' opined Filton.

  'The others will miss him. He made himself very popular. Well, there's one good thing to come out of all this.'

  'And what's that, Father?'

  'I can count on a decent congregation on Sunday,' explained the priest with a grin. 'It's strange how adversity turns a man's mind to religion. They know how close they came to losing their jobs. A lot of them will get down on their knees to send up a prayer of thanks. I'll make the most of it and preach a sermon that will sing in their ears for a week. By next Sunday,' he added, philosophically, 'most of them won't come anywhere near the service.'

  'Were you surprised to find out who was trying to disrupt the railway?' asked Brassey.

  'I'd always suspected that Shannon might have something to do with it. He was the type. Kilfoyle disappointed me. I thought that Liam would have more sense.'

  'What about the other two men?'

  'Dowd and Murphy? Weak characters. Easily lead.'

  'They'll get no mercy in court,' predicted Brassey. 'This railway has the backing of Louis Napoleon and his government. Anyone who tries to bring it to a halt will be hit with the full weight of the law.'

  'The whole sad business is finally over,' said Slattery. 'I think that we ought to console ourselves with that thought.'

  'But it isn't over yet.'

  'No,' said Filton. 'The murder of Gaston Chabal has still to be solved. What happened here was entangled with that, Father Slattery.'

  'How?'

  'The only person who knows that is Inspector Colbeck.'

  'Does he know the name of the killer?'

  'He will do before long.'

  'You sound very confident of that, Mr Filton.'

  'He's an astonishing man.'

  'It was an education to see him at work,' said Brassey. 'In his own way, Inspector Colbeck reminded me of Gaston. Both share the same passion for detail. They are utterly meticulous. That's why I know that he'll apprehend the killer in due course, Father Slattery.'