Blood on the Line irc-8

by Edward Marston

  ‘Now that you’ve told me your news,’ she said, ‘I can pass on mine. Brace yourself for a shock, Robert.’

  ‘Is it that serious?’

  ‘It is to me – Father is going to retire.’

  He was startled. ‘Does he really mean it this time?’

  ‘He was going to hand in his resignation this morning.’

  ‘Well, that is an unexpected disclosure,’ said Colbeck, ‘but it’s a pleasing one. After all those years of sterling service, he’s earned the right to retirement. A lesser man would have given up when he took that beating from the train robbers but your father fought his way back to full health and was soon back on the footplate.’

  ‘It will bring about some changes,’ she cautioned.

  ‘Yes, you won’t have to get up early every morning to make his breakfast and to send him off.’

  ‘That’s a benefit but there’ll be hazards as well.’ Her gesture took in the whole room. ‘The main one is that I’ll lose my studio. I work best when I’m alone and I’m going to have Father here.’

  ‘There’s a simple answer to that, Madeleine.’

  ‘Is there?’

  ‘Yes – you can use a room in my house as a studio. After all, it’s only a matter of time before you move in there permanently.’

  ‘That’s what I was coming to,’ she said, tentatively. ‘Father has been badgering me to set a date for the wedding. I know that you don’t wish to be rushed and I understand why, but it would be helpful if I had at least some idea of when it would be.’

  Colbeck took her impulsively in his arms. ‘If it were left to me,’ he said, softly, ‘I’d marry you tomorrow. But the demands of my job won’t permit that, alas. Since the time we became engaged, I’ve had one case after another to deal with. I work from dawn to dusk seven days a week, Madeleine.’

  ‘I accept that,’ she said, pushing back a strand of hair from his forehead. ‘As soon as one investigation finishes, another one starts. I can see that this latest case will eat up all your time. That’s in the nature of police work. It’s just that I would like to have a date to give Father so that he’ll stop hounding me.’ She smiled hopefully. ‘Is that an unfair request?’

  ‘No, Madeleine,’ he answered. ‘It’s an extremely fair one. You are right about this investigation. It will need my full commitment and take precedence over everything else. I have personal reasons for wanting to catch Jeremy Oxley. It’s something of an obsession, so I must ask you to bear with me. When it’s all over,’ he told her, ‘I promise you that we’ll sit down together and finally set a date for our wedding. Will that please your father?’

  She laughed happily. ‘It will please me a lot more, Robert.’

  Oxley was the best lover she’d ever had. He knew how to take his time and to ensure that Irene enjoyed full satisfaction. He was the first man to whom she gave herself completely. With the others, she’d always held something back. Irene had been in her early teens when she learnt how to use her charms on a man. She would secure his interest, tighten her hold, then tease, torment and ensnare him until he’d do whatever she wanted. All of her early victims had been young men lured by a promise of surrender that was often never fulfilled. When they made the mistake of putting absolute trust in her, she chose the moment to strike then disappeared with their money or other valuables. Many were too embarrassed by their own gullibility to report the crime to the police. Those – like Lawrence Holte – who did want her arrested discovered that she was remarkably elusive.

  As she lay naked in bed with Oxley that evening, she did not have to think about stealing from him or decide when to take to her heels. They were partners and their spoils were shared equally. It was inconceivable that she would ever run away from him.

  ‘Are you happy?’ he asked, lazily stroking her breast.

  ‘I’m happier than I’ve ever been, Jerry.’

  ‘Is that because of me?’

  ‘What other cause could there be?’

  ‘I wondered if it was to do with what happened during the rescue. When I’d killed for the first time, I felt this glow inside me for days. Even when I’d been arrested, I had this extraordinary sense of pleasure.’ He tapped his chest. ‘I’d taken another man’s life.’

  ‘That thought gives me no pleasure at all.’

  ‘It’s like a coming of age.’

  ‘I see it differently,’ she said, uneasily.

  It was still there at the back of her mind. Irene might no longer shiver when she recalled the moment she fired the gun, nor did she flinch when she thought about the two bodies being butchered by a speeding train. Yet it would not go away. Every so often the grotesque memories would pop up uncontrollably in her brain and cause her intense regret. Only in Oxley’s arms was she safe from any twinges of guilt. Alone with him, nothing else mattered.

  ‘You could have been an actress,’ he observed.

  ‘I don’t have the training for it, Jerry.’

  ‘Training isn’t necessary when you have such natural ability. You know how to play a part, Irene. Your performance fooled all three of those policemen.’

  ‘There were only two on the train.’

  ‘I was thinking about the one who told you what time we’d be leaving Wolverhampton – Constable Marner.’

  She giggled. ‘I put a pillow inside my dress and told him that I was carrying a child. He couldn’t wait to help me then.’ Her face clouded. ‘What will happen to him?’

  ‘Nothing at all,’ he assured her. ‘He’ll have the sense to keep his mouth shut. Otherwise he’ll be arrested for being an accessory and will end up behind bars.’

  ‘That’s what worries me. If he’s caught, he’ll be able to describe me. We talked for several minutes. He had a good look at me, Jerry.’

  Oxley grinned. ‘Not as good as the one that I’m having,’ he said with a laugh, gazing at her smooth, shapely body. ‘Policemen will always be tempted by a bribe. It’s the same with prison warders. They’re so poorly paid that five or ten pounds looks like a fortune to them. That’s how I escaped when I was on remand. I bribed someone to look the other way.’

  ‘How did you smuggle the money into prison?’

  ‘There are always ways to conceal it when you’re searched. Mind you,’ he went on, ‘you have to choose the right person. I picked on Marner because I sensed that he was our man.’

  ‘Think how he must have felt when he discovered that he’d been tricked,’ she said. ‘Two of his friends went to their deaths because of him. That would have upset him terribly.’

  ‘It serves him right, Irene.’

  He reached for the bottle of champagne on the bedside table and emptied it into the two glasses. Handing one to Irene, he picked up the other and raised it in a toast.

  ‘Let’s drink to a prosperous future together!’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I’ll drink to that any time.’

  ‘If we take a new name, change our appearance again and keep on the move, nobody will ever catch us.’

  ‘What about Inspector Colbeck?’

  ‘Oh, I think I have his measure, Irene. He’s very clever but I can outmanoeuvre him. I was arrested in Wolverhampton and escaped on the way to Birmingham. That’s where he’ll begin his search. So we’ll hide in the last place he’d expect to find us.’

  ‘And where’s that, Jerry?’

  ‘In London, of course – where there are countless places to take refuge. Ours will just be two faces among millions. Don’t you think it’s a wonderful idea?’ he said, smirking. ‘It will simply never occur to Colbeck that the two people he’s after are staying not far away in the same city.’

  Tallis was motionless as he listened to Colbeck’s report. In the light from the oil lamp on his desk, his features took on a sinister aspect. Even though it was late, he showed no hint of fatigue. His eyes were as bright and his brain as alert as ever. Colbeck was lucid and, as usual, succinct. The one thing he did not mention was his brief call on Madeleine Andrews after his arrival
at Euston station. It would not only have goaded the superintendent into a rant, it would have left Colbeck open to accusations of putting his private life before his commitments as a detective. Recounting the details of his visit to Manchester, he felt sure that he had identified the name of Oxley’s accomplice. Tallis was not entirely convinced. He stroked his neat moustache meditatively.

  ‘I expected more of you,’ he said at length.

  ‘We cannot conjure instant progress out of the air, sir.’

  ‘There must have been dozens of clues to pick up.’

  ‘I’ve listed the majority of them for you,’ said Colbeck. ‘The one important discovery was that a policeman had been bribed to give information about the time of the train. Constable Marner is now enduring the wrath of his colleagues.’

  ‘He should be locked up in perpetuity,’ snapped Tallis. ‘If there’s one thing I abhor, it’s a corrupt policeman. But let’s turn our attention to this accomplice you claim to have uncovered.’

  ‘Her name is Irene Adnam, sir.’

  ‘How certain are you of that?’

  ‘I’m certain enough to divulge her name to the press.’

  ‘Well, I don’t share that certainty, Inspector. You know my view of journalists – they’re despicable jackals who should be kept in cages and fed on scraps. We’ve suffered so much unjust censure from them. But,’ he continued, hunching his shoulders, ‘they are a necessary evil and – if used correctly – can be extremely helpful to us.’

  ‘That’s why we must give them Irene Adnam’s name, sir.’

  ‘We need more confirmation first. What if you’re wrong about her, Inspector? You’ve made grievous errors before. If we name her in the press and she turns out to be innocent of the charge, then we are left with very red faces.’

  ‘With respect, Superintendent,’ argued Colbeck, ‘the one thing you cannot say of this woman is that she is innocent. She’s committed a number of offences and is being sought by the police in Manchester. Young as she may be, she already has a substantial criminal career behind her.’

  ‘Yet she’s never been arrested.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘Nor has she been questioned by the police.’

  ‘Miss Adnam knows how to cover her tracks, sir.’

  ‘The only description you have of her comes from one of her victims. How reliable is that?’

  ‘I think it’s very reliable, Superintendent. She lived in his house as a governess. Mr Holte saw her every day.’

  ‘Then he should have kept a closer eye on her. No,’ said Tallis, getting out of his chair, ‘it’s too soon to release the woman’s name to the press. I concede that she does look like a possible suspect. At the same time, however, there’s something about her that makes her an unlikely ally for Jeremy Oxley.’

  ‘And what might that be, may I ask?’

  ‘Look at what we know of her, Inspector. By all accounts, she’s a practised thief with a gift for winning the confidence of her prospective victims. More to the point – and this, I submit, is crucial – Miss Adnam chooses to work alone. Now,’ said Tallis, walking around the desk to him, ‘why should she suddenly decide to act as someone’s accomplice, and how did she make an enormous leap from being a thief to becoming a merciless killer?’

  ‘That’s a pertinent question, Superintendent.’

  ‘Do you, by any chance, have the answer to it?’

  ‘Not as yet,’ confessed Colbeck, ‘but I will.’

  ‘And how do you propose to go about finding it?’

  ‘I’ve enlisted the help of Inspector Boone, sir. He’s a very able man and has wide resources to call upon. Since she was apparently born in Manchester, Irene Adnam may well have family there. I’ve suggested to the inspector that he might begin with the 1851 census. It will doubtless contain a number of people in the city by that name. We simply have to eliminate them one by one.’

  ‘That could take time and lead you down a blind alley.’

  ‘It’s a risk that we have to take, sir.’

  ‘Supposing that this young woman is the accomplice?’

  ‘Believe me, sir,’ asserted Colbeck, ‘there’s no supposition involved. Irene Adnam is the person who shot one policeman and helped to throw another to a grisly death.’

  Tallis was tetchy. ‘Let me finish what I was going to say, man.’

  ‘I beg your pardon, sir.’

  ‘Assuming that you are right about her …’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘How do you know that she and Oxley are still together?’

  ‘There’s not a scintilla of doubt about it, sir.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Put yourself in Oxley’s position,’ suggested Colbeck.

  ‘That’s a bizarre proposition,’ said Tallis, angrily. ‘You know that I’d never enter into a relationship with any woman, especially one with such a record of criminality.’

  ‘Humour me, please,’ requested Colbeck. ‘After a long and successful run, you are finally arrested. When you appear in court, you will not only be charged with the crime in Birmingham for which you are being held. Once the police examine your past record, they will find that it contains at least two murders – that of a London jeweller and that of Helen Millington, who witnessed you fleeing from the premises. In short, Superintendent,’ he emphasized, ‘you are taking a train to the gallows.’

  ‘Yes – and quite rightly so.’

  ‘Now then, if a daring young woman boards that train and actually rescues you from your fate, how are you going to view her?’

  Tallis sniffed. ‘I suppose that I’d be very grateful to her.’

  ‘Would you be tempted to cast her aside?’

  ‘Well, when you put it like that …’

  ‘Oxley and she are both accomplices and lovers,’ said Colbeck, forcefully. ‘The murder of those policemen has bonded them at a deep level. They’ll never part until they’re caught. That’s why Irene Adnam must be our target. Wherever we catch up with her, she and Jeremy Oxley will be together.’

  Once again, they travelled independently so that nobody would view them as a couple. While Irene had a first-class ticket, Oxley settled for a train journey in second class. When they stopped at Wolverhampton station, Irene looked through the window with grave misgivings. It was a town she would have preferred to avoid at all costs. Oxley, on the other hand, gave the place a token wave. Its police had been efficient enough to catch him but not to hold on to him. He went through the escape once more in his mind, revelling in the detail. As the train pulled out of the station, he felt a pang of regret. Every newspaper had carried a description of him but Oxley had no fear of being recognised. Adept at changing his appearance, he had complete confidence that nobody would identify him.

  They met up again at the cab rank outside Euston and shared a vehicle. Irene nestled beside him.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked.

  ‘We’ll stay with a friend of mine,’ he replied. ‘You’ll like him, Irene. He’s killed more people than the two of us put together.’

  Colbeck made his customary early start next morning. Arriving at his office, however, he discovered that Ian Peebles was there already, standing outside the door as if on sentry duty. Colbeck guessed that it was his new colleague and offered a friendly smile.

  ‘You must be Constable Peebles,’ he said, extending a palm. ‘The superintendent told me about you last night.’

  ‘I’m honoured to meet you, Inspector,’ said Peebles, shaking his hand. ‘I’ve followed your career with great interest.’

  ‘I see.’ He opened the door. ‘Let’s go on in, shall we?’

  As they went into the office, Colbeck walked behind his desk and turned to take a closer look at Peebles. There was a suppressed eagerness in the other’s face. Well groomed and watchful, he exuded an intelligence that was rare among policemen who patrolled London streets. Notwithstanding the constable’s youthful appearance, Colbeck did not share Leeming’s estimation of him
. Where the sergeant saw fatal immaturity, Colbeck sensed promise. He just wished for a little less silent adulation from Peebles.

  ‘Tell me about yourself, Constable,’ he invited.

  ‘There’s really not much to tell, sir.’

  ‘Stop hiding your light under a bushel. Superintendent Tallis holds you in high regard. There has to be a good reason for that.’

  ‘I’ll endeavour to repay his faith in me.’

  Peebles spoke briefly about his time in the army and on the beat as a police constable. He was very articulate. Yet beneath the man’s surface modesty, Colbeck sensed a burning ambition to rise in rank at the department. It was a laudable aim and, after studying him with care, Colbeck felt that he might well have a successful career ahead of him. Peebles was untypical of the men whom the Metropolitan Police Force attracted. Other discharged soldiers joined the force but few had the constable’s qualities. Recruits came largely from the labouring classes, sturdy men whose former trades had given them the physical conditioning necessary to enforce the law. While the vast majority would spend their entire career in uniform, Peebles had been given promotion in a remarkably short time.

  There was a shock in store for Colbeck.

  ‘I have to repay my wife’s faith in me as well,’ said Peebles.

  Colbeck was amazed. ‘You’re married?’

  ‘I’m about to be fairly soon, Inspector. It’s one of the consequences of moving to Scotland Yard. The increase in pay has made it possible for me to support a wife.’

  ‘Does the superintendent know about this?’

  ‘It was the first thing he asked me about.’

  ‘Then he must value you highly,’ said Colbeck. ‘My advice is to say as little as possible to him about your private life. He believes that marriage is a distraction for his detectives and would prefer us all to lead lives of total abstinence.’