‘That’s a good point,’ said Moscardi.
‘Then here’s another one. Nobody was killed. Most of us were bruised and a couple of people lost a little blood but we are otherwise intact. If that isn’t a sign of God’s mercy, I don’t know what is. We live to fight another day.’
‘And we should fight,’ urged Gianni, ‘with staves in our hands.’
‘You can’t fight an invisible enemy.’
‘And we can’t take the law into our hands,’ added Moscardi. ‘Let the police get on with their investigation. We’ve got more than enough to do. There are plans to be made, animals to be calmed down and a lot of frightened people to be reassured. Anne is right. We’ve had a lucky escape. If the train had been going at full pelt, there could have been a catastrophe.’
‘That was Sam Greenwood’s intention,’ said Gianni, sourly.
‘He may not be behind this, Gianni.’
‘Then who is?’
Moscardi shrugged. ‘Only time will tell.’
The circus had built its reputation on the quality of its artistes and the variety of its animals. Everyone had heard of Moscardi’s horses, lions and celebrated elephant. To those who looked after the menagerie, however, there was an even more important member of it and that was Jacko, a much-loved capuchin monkey who was given licence to roam more freely than the other animals. Jacko was small, impish and unpredictable. A reliable performer in front of an audience, he was a free spirit when away from it and loved nothing more than causing trouble and playing tricks on everyone. As a rule, the monkey kept everyone laughing but his latest trick aroused no amusement. It provoked sadness and alarm. Jacko had disappeared.
‘If this in another of his japes,’ said Albert Stagg, ruefully, ‘I’ll starve the little devil for a whole week.’
‘I’ll just be glad to get him back,’ said his companion.
‘Where on earth can he be?’
‘We’ll find him sooner or later.’
‘Alive or dead?’
‘Hey,’ said Brendan Mulryne, rounding on him. ‘We’ll have none of that kind of talk, if you don’t mind. Jacko is fine. He just happens to have got lost, that’s all. That crash scared the daylights out of him, Albert, and I’m not surprised. It did the same to me, so it did.’
They presented a complete contrast. Mulryne was a tall, muscular Irishman with enormous hands and a battered face that featured a broken nose, a scarred cheek and a thick lip. One of his ears was almost twice the size of its partner. Stagg, on the other hand, was a short, neat, skinny individual in his thirties with a bald head and protruding eyes. He looked after the monkey and performed with him. Having only been with the circus for a few months, Mulryne was simply searching for a missing animal. Stagg was looking for his best friend.
‘He could be anywhere, Brendan,’ he said.
‘Keep shouting for him every few minutes.’
‘My throat is already hoarse.’
‘Ignore the pain. Jacko knows your voice. If he hears it, he’ll come to you.’
‘That’s not what happened when we came off the line,’ recalled Stagg. ‘Jacko jumped through the open window and ignored me altogether.’
‘Thank heavens it was only a monkey who escaped,’ said Mulryne. ‘If it had been Rosie the elephant or some of the lions, we’d have a real problem.’
‘Jacko is just as important to me as any of the animals.’
‘I know that, but he’s not as much of a danger to the public as a lion.’
‘I won’t rest till we find him.’
Stagg was desperately worried about the monkey. It was almost twenty-four hours since he’d disappeared. They’d searched until dark then started again at dawn. It was now almost noon and there was still no sign of Jacko. Hopelessly lost, the animal would be at the mercy of all sorts of predators. Where would he get food? How would he survive? They’d heard distant gunfire on more than one occasion. Had somebody shot him? The very thought made Stagg shudder.
When they came to a stretch of woodland, they decided to split up.
‘Stay within earshot,’ advised the Irishman.
‘Jacko would be safer in here among the trees. He’d climb out of danger.’
Mulryne grinned. ‘Well, don’t ask me to climb up after him,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to lure him down somehow.’
‘When he hears my voice, he’ll respond.’
‘I hope you’re right, Albert.’
Going in opposite directions, they began to pick their way through the woods. Each of them called for Jacko by name but there was no reply. Every now and then, Mulryne shouted to his friend and got an answering yell to confirm that they were still in touch with each other. As they pressed on, however, Stagg’s voice became increasingly faint. Eventually, it disappeared altogether and Mulryne began to get worried. He stopped in a clearing, filled his lungs and bellowed.
‘Can you hear me, Albert?’
There was no reply. Cupping his hands, he shouted even louder.
‘Where are you?’
This time, there was an answer but it didn’t come from Stagg. It was the distinctive squeal of a monkey and it made the Irishman’s heart lift. He went off in the direction from which the sound came.
‘Don’t worry, Jacko,’ he said. ‘I’m coming.’
The squeals became more excited and acted as a guide. Trampling through the undergrowth, Mulryne rushed on with a sense of relief coursing through his body. The monkey was alive, after all. The search was over. When he got close to the area where the sound was coming from, however, he couldn’t see the monkey. Instead, to his horror, he saw something that made his blood run cold. Having led a hard life, the Irishman was not easily shocked but this sight stopped him in his tracks.
Sticking out of the ground, a human hand was waving to him.
CHAPTER THREE
When the message came, Robert Colbeck and Victor Leeming were keeping a house in Wardour Street under surveillance. Since they believed their main suspect was inside, they’d placed men at the rear of the property to prevent an attempt at escape. They were discussing tactics as a uniformed policeman approached.
‘The superintendent said I would find you here,’ he said, handing a letter to Colbeck. ‘It’s urgent, sir.’
‘Thank you, Constable,’ said the other, opening the missive and reading it.
‘Is there a reply?’
‘I’ll deliver it in person.’
‘Very good, sir.’
‘Come on, Victor,’ said Colbeck. ‘We’re needed elsewhere.’
‘But we may be in a position to make an arrest, sir,’ complained Leeming.
‘Someone else can have the pleasure of doing that.’
‘We can’t just walk away.’
‘Yes, we can. Only one thing would make the superintendent pull us off this job and I fancy that I know what it is.’
Colbeck beckoned to one of the detective constables watching the house and gave him his orders. Confident that his men could handle the situation, he hailed a cab and asked the driver to take them to Scotland Yard. It was not long before he and the sergeant were standing side by side in front of the superintendent. Colbeck had a smile of anticipation but Leeming quailed inwardly. Though he was fearless when confronting violent criminals, he felt his legs turn to rubber whenever he faced Edward Tallis. The superintendent increased the sergeant’s discomfort by keeping them waiting for a full minute. When he spoke, it was with obvious regret.
‘I’ve received two telegraphs from Northumberland,’ he said, grumpily. ‘The first one is from the Newcastle and Carlisle Railway Company.’
‘I had a feeling that they’d be in touch,’ said Colbeck.
‘Is it about this crash?’ asked Leeming.
‘Be quiet and listen,’ said Tallis.
‘Someone derailed a circus.’
‘Close that irritating orifice known as your mouth.’
‘The inspector has already shown me that article in the newspaper.’
> ‘Silence!’ Leeming winced and took a cautionary step backwards. ‘There’s been a development,’ explained Tallis, ‘and it’s a disturbing one.’
‘What’s happened, sir?’ asked Colbeck.
‘The body of a woman has been found in a shallow grave not far from the scene. Foul play is evident. I’ve been asked to send you at the earliest possible opportunity.’
‘Does the NCR believe there is a link between the crash and the murder?’ asked Colbeck.
‘There’s no suggestion of that kind. They simply beg for assistance.’
‘You said that there were two telegraphs.’
‘Yes,’ said Tallis, face darkening, ‘and the second one is from a man whose vile name I hoped never to hear again.’ He handed the paper to Colbeck. ‘It looks as if Mulryne has ended up in a circus.’
‘Would that be Brendan Mulryne?’ asked Leeming, tentatively.
‘It would, alas. Even when he wore a policeman’s uniform, he was always something of a performing bear.’
‘I liked him, sir. He was a good man to have beside you in a fight.’
‘The trouble is that he always started the fight.’
Leeming turned to the inspector. ‘What does he say?’
‘He says very little,’ replied Colbeck, ‘but I’m just reading between the lines. Mulryne is pleading for us to head north. Strange things are happening up there.’
‘When a circus comes to town,’ said Tallis, ‘there’s always trouble.’
‘In this case, they didn’t even reach town, sir. Someone sought to stop them getting there in one piece. I’ll be interested to find out why.’ He handed the telegraph back to Tallis. ‘It’s lucky that Mulryne is involved. He’ll be a great help. He’s got a policeman’s eye.’
‘It was usually blackened from his latest brawl.’
‘I always enjoyed being on duty with him,’ said Leeming. ‘I felt safe.’
‘Nobody was safe when that mad Irishman was around. He broke every rule of policing. We did the people of London a great service when we dismissed him.’
Colbeck was about to point out that Mulryne had, in fact, been of considerable assistance to them in a private capacity but he decided against doing so. Tallis would never accept that Mulryne could be an asset to the Metropolitan Police Force. In any case, Colbeck had got what he wanted. The Railway Detective was at his best when dealing with crimes relating to the railway system that had spread so quickly and so haphazardly throughout the whole country. He was eager to get to the circus as soon as possible and to learn more about the crash and the mysterious death.
‘We’ll leave at once, sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘Inspector Vallence can take over our current investigation. Send him to Wardour Street.’
‘But we did all the hard work,’ moaned Leeming. ‘Why should someone else have the credit of making the arrest? It’s not fair.’
‘It’s an example of teamwork, Sergeant.’
‘We should get the glory.’
‘Don’t be so selfish, man,’ said Tallis. ‘And let’s have no more nonsense about glory. Your function is to solve major crimes, not to court approbation.’
Before he could speak again, the sergeant was hustled out of the office by Colbeck. Arguing with Tallis was pointless. It would only delay them and the inspector was anxious to be on their way.
As they walked down the corridor, Leeming asked a jolting question.
‘What about your daughter, sir?’
‘What about her?’
‘Do you really want to go that far away from Helen?’
Colbeck came to an abrupt halt. He thought about the beautiful little girl who’d come into his life and given it a new direction. The child had been a blessing in every way and, since her birth, he’d been fortunate to be based entirely in London. For the first time, he was being torn away from her and it was going to be a painful experience. He tried to control an upsurge of regret.
‘No, I don’t,’ he admitted, ‘but duty comes first.’
From the moment when he heard that his daughter was pregnant, Caleb Andrews was convinced that he was about to have a grandson. So firm was his belief that he even named the child beforehand. When Madeleine gave birth to a daughter, therefore, he was at first upset but, the moment he set eyes on her, his disappointment was swiftly supplanted by joy. It was increased by the news that the parents had decided to name the baby after his late wife, Helen. Andrews had been profoundly moved. Every time he saw his granddaughter, he was reminded of his wife. As he looked at her now, sleeping contentedly in her crib, he chided himself for wanting to have a grandson instead.
Madeleine waited until he sat down again before she broke the news.
‘Robert is going to be away for a while,’ she said.
‘A child needs its father close to her, Maddy.’
‘That’s the ideal situation, I agree, but it’s not always possible when the father happens to be a famous detective. His work takes him everywhere.’
‘And it’s dangerous work at that,’ said Andrews. ‘I wonder if it isn’t time for Robert to find a job with no risks that keeps him in London all the time.’
‘You’re a fine one to talk,’ she said, laughing. ‘When you were an engine driver all those years, you were always in danger and often hundreds of miles away.’
‘That was different.’
‘I don’t agree.’
‘I was tied hand and foot by the rules of employment.’
‘And so is Robert. The main rule is crystal clear. If he’s summoned by any railway company – regardless of where it is – then he simply has to go.’
‘How much has he told you about this latest case?’
‘Very little,’ she replied. ‘All that he had time to do was to dash off a quick note and have it delivered here by hand. He’s off to Northumberland.’
He was appalled. ‘You mean that he couldn’t even come home to say a proper goodbye to you and the baby?’
‘He and Victor Leeming had to catch a train from King’s Cross. They’re used to making sudden departures. That’s why they always keep a change of clothing at Scotland Yard.’ She saw the look of anguish on her father’s face. ‘Are you all right?’
‘No,’ he croaked, ‘I feel sick to my stomach.’
‘Can I get you something?’ she asked with concern.
‘This is not something that can be cured with a pill, Maddy. And I don’t think an apology from your husband would make me feel any better.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘You just told me that he was travelling from King’s Cross. That means he’ll be on the Great Northern Railway.’
‘Ah, I see,’ she said, realisation dawning. ‘You’d expect him to go to Euston.’
‘A train from the LNWR would take him all the way to Carlisle.’
‘Robert must have found a quicker route.’
‘It’s not a question of speed,’ he wailed. ‘It’s a matter of loyalty.’
‘You can’t expect Robert to use only the London and North Western because you used to work for it. He always carries his Bradshaw with him and chooses the fastest train to get him where he wants to go. Besides, the LNWR only reaches certain parts of the country.’
‘If he’s going to Northumberland, he can change at Carlisle and pick up a train on the NCR. There’s a regular service to Newcastle.’
‘I’m sure that Robert has worked out his route very carefully.’
‘He should have asked my advice.’
She suppressed a smile. ‘I think he already knows what it would have been.’
‘Well,’ he said, shaking his head, ‘I expected more of him than this. He can’t be bothered to find time to see you before he goes, then he chooses the wrong train. I thought he’d be more caring as a father, I must say.’
‘Nobody could be more considerate as a husband or as a father,’ she said, firmly. ‘Robert is the kindest man alive. When duty calls, however, he has to respond. He’s gone to Northumbe
rland because someone tried to wreck a train that was carrying a circus to Newcastle, and there’s been a murder nearby.’
Andrews leapt to his feet. ‘There’d be another murder if I caught the man who tried to wreck the train. They don’t have a punishment strong enough for villains who do that sort of thing. I’m sorry for the circus,’ he went on, ‘but my sympathy goes to the engine driver and fireman. It must have been an ordeal for them.’
‘Robert will send me more details in due course.’
‘Well, be sure to pass them on to me, Maddy. Trains are a benefit to everyone, if they’re allowed to be. They’ve changed this country out of all recognition. The trouble is,’ he added, worriedly, ‘that they’re so easy to derail.’
‘They call him the Railway Detective.’
‘Why is that?’
‘Inspector Colbeck got that name when he caught the men behind a train robbery. It was a difficult case,’ recalled Mulryne, ‘but he solved it in the end. He never gives up.’
‘That’s good to hear,’ said Moscardi. ‘I just hope that, when he catches the men behind the crash, he’ll hand them over to me.’
‘I’d like a crack at them first, Mr Moscardi. When our train came to a dead halt, I banged my head against the side of the compartment. I was holding Jacko at the time. He was so frightened that he hopped through the open window.’
‘He’s safely back with Albert now. Jacko is a survivor. One of the animals wasn’t so lucky.’
‘How will you replace that horse?’
‘Buying a new one will be easy enough. Training him up to the right standard is a different matter. It takes time and patience.’
‘I know,’ said Mulryne, appreciatively. ‘You work wonders with them. And even when they’re experienced performers, they rehearse day after day.’
‘Practice makes perfect.’
The two men were standing beside the gaudy exterior of Moscardi’s caravan. In the wake of the crash, constables had come from Hexham to support the railway policeman first to the scene. When the murder victim was discovered, however, it was deemed necessary to involve the Newcastle Constabulary and detectives had been duly dispatched. Not realising that the railway company had already done so, Mulryne had insisted that they should send for Colbeck and put his name on the telegraph because, he boasted, it would make all the difference.
The Circus Train Conspiracy Page 2
