Blood on the Line irc-8

by Edward Marston

  Peebles laughed. ‘This is not a monastery.’

  ‘The superintendent has yet to accept that. It’s perfectly possible for detectives to combine marriage with fulfilment of their duties here. Sergeant Leeming is proof of that.’

  As if on cue, Leeming came walking along the corridor. He turned in through the open door of Colbeck’s office.

  ‘Did I hear my name being taken in vain?’ he asked.

  ‘I was just holding you up as a golden example, Victor.’

  ‘It’s not often that anyone does that, sir.’

  ‘I do,’ said Peebles. ‘I want to follow in your footsteps.’

  ‘I need to redirect your footsteps, Constable,’ said Colbeck. ‘You will be travelling to Manchester this morning with the sergeant and me. In case we may have to spend the night there, I suggest that you provide yourself with anything necessary.’

  ‘Aye, sir,’ said Peebles, keen to be involved. ‘Does this mean that you made some progress when you were there yesterday?’

  ‘I’ll tell you everything on the train.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  After giving each of them a smile, Peebles hurried out. Leeming closed the door after him so that he could speak in private.

  He was bitter. ‘Does the superintendent want this case solved?’

  ‘That’s a strange question. You know that he does.’

  ‘Then why has he handicapped us with Constable Peebles? The fellow has no experience at all.’

  ‘What better way to gain it?’

  ‘I think that he’ll hamper the investigation.’

  ‘Then I must disagree with you,’ said Colbeck. ‘I fancy that he could turn out to be an asset to us.’

  ‘He’ll be too busy watching us,’ complained Leeming.

  ‘How else can he learn what to do?’

  ‘You don’t understand, sir. Peebles has been keeping press cuttings of all our cases. He has a whole scrapbook of them. Every move we make will be noted down and preserved.’

  Colbeck smiled. ‘Every Doctor Johnson needs a Boswell.’

  ‘Does he?’ Leeming was bewildered. ‘I’m sorry but I don’t know any detectives by those names.’

  ‘That doesn’t matter, Victor. The simple fact is that I like our new colleague and anticipate good things of him. It’s always a little unnerving to be put on a pedestal but it does have an advantage. It keeps us on our toes,’ said Colbeck. ‘We mustn’t disillusion him. If he believes that we are the pride of the department, we must offer him some justification for our status, and we can only do that by bringing this investigation to a speedy conclusion. Gird your loins,’ he urged, ‘and get ready for a train journey to Manchester. We have to demonstrate to Constable Peebles the difficult art of detection.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Inspector Zachary Boone was busier than ever, listening to reports about various incidents, dispatching constables to investigate others, speculating with his superintendent on the outcome of a trial and juggling a large number of other commitments. When three visitors from London suddenly descended on him, Boone was upbraiding a luckless constable who had foolishly allowed a suspect to evade capture. Pleased to see Colbeck again, he reserved judgement on his friend’s companions. In Boone’s opinion, Leeming looked like a battle-scarred wrestler in stolen apparel while Peebles resembled nothing so much as an overgrown schoolboy. The inspector was surprised to learn that they were both serving officers in the Detective Department.

  ‘You’re very welcome,’ said Boone, standing behind his desk, ‘but if you expect to sit down in here, it will have to be on the floor. There’s only room for my chair and one other.’

  ‘We’re happy to stand, Zachary,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘Did you have a good journey?’

  ‘Yes, we did.’

  ‘It was an express train,’ explained Peebles. ‘The inspector chose it specifically. We couldn’t have had a better trip.’

  ‘Speak for yourself,’ said Leeming. ‘Trains upset my stomach.’

  ‘Sympathetic as we are,’ said Colbeck with a consoling smile, ‘we can’t have our movements dictated by your queasiness.’

  ‘I sometimes wish that locomotives had never been invented.’

  ‘Then you’d have been out of a job,’ noted Boone. ‘How could you have worked with the famous Railway Detective if there’d been no railways? If you’ll pardon a dreadful pun, they’ve been a great boon to me. Thanks to trains, my men have been able to move around much more quickly.’

  ‘That cuts both ways,’ said Colbeck. ‘It also means that villains can leave the scene of the crime and be miles away in no time at all.’

  ‘It’s exactly what happened in this case,’ suggested Peebles, diffidently. ‘Murder was actually committed on the railway, so the two suspects were immediately able to put distance between themselves and their crime. They could be anywhere in the country by now.’

  ‘Let’s hope that we can find a signpost in Manchester that will point us in the right direction.’

  ‘You haven’t given us much time,’ said Boone. ‘Besides, we have a large number of other crimes to solve, so I haven’t been able to deploy very many of my men.’

  ‘That’s why we’re here, Zachary,’ said Colbeck. ‘We’ve come to do some of the legwork and to acquaint Constable Peebles with the joys of being a detective.’

  ‘I didn’t know there were any,’ muttered Leeming.

  ‘Let me tell you what we’ve already done,’ volunteered Boone.

  Plunging a hand into a small mountain of papers, he drew out one that contained a list of names and addresses in a looping hand. Some of them had ticks against them. He explained that they had already been discounted as a result of visits by his men. All that remained were three names and addresses. He handed the list to Colbeck.

  ‘We were lucky, Robert,’ he said. ‘There were not all that many people by the name of Adnam. Thank heaven you didn’t ask me to list all the O’Briens or the O’Rourkes. In some of the Irish districts, they could run into the hundreds.’

  Colbeck perused the addresses. ‘Where are these places?’

  ‘Two of them are in relatively safe areas. That’s to say, they’ll try to stab you in the chest rather than in the back, so you’re at least accorded the courtesy of a warning. The third address is in Deansgate. I’d advise anyone against going there on his own.’

  ‘We can all stay together,’ said Leeming.

  ‘That would only waste time, Victor,’ decided Colbeck, passing the list to him. ‘Memorise those details, if you will. Then you and the constable can visit two of the addresses while I pay a call on Silas Adnam in Deansgate.’

  ‘Looking like that, you’d present a tempting target,’ said Boone, appraising the debonair figure of Colbeck. ‘There’s nobody there as refined and elegant as you, Robert. You’d stand out like a hedgehog on a billiard table. Why don’t I assign one of my men to accompany you?’

  ‘I can manage on my own, thank you. In any case, I won’t be going there in a frock coat and top hat.’ Colbeck patted his valise. ‘I brought a change of clothing for just such a situation.’ He snatched the piece of paper from Leeming’s hands. ‘Off you go, Sergeant. Give me the names and addresses you’ve just memorised.’

  Leeming gulped. ‘Well …’

  ‘I know them, Inspector,’ said Peebles before rattling off the information. ‘I think you’ll find that I’m correct.’

  ‘I could have told you all that,’ said Leeming, hurt.

  ‘I’m sure that you could, Victor,’ said Colbeck, ‘but you were fortunate to have the constable to prompt you. I told you that he’d prove his worth when we got to Manchester.’

  While Peebles basked in the praise, Leeming smouldered.

  Madeleine had always enjoyed her regular visits to the market. It gave her an opportunity to get out of the house and to meet a succession of friends and neighbours. Since she often incorporated a call on her aunt, she was able to keep in touch with another b
ranch of the family as well. As she set off again with a basket over her arm, she knew exactly what to buy and where to buy it. Most of the items on the list were chosen because they were her father’s preferences. A creature of habit, Caleb Andrews was very particular about his food and drink.

  Two thoughts suddenly struck her, causing her to check her stride. The first was that she would not be making this pilgrimage indefinitely. What would happen to her father’s larder when she was no longer there to keep it filled? Shopping in the market was largely a chore for women, and not merely because their husbands were usually at work. When it came to meat, fruit and vegetables, they were far more discerning customers and they could also haggle more effectively. On the few occasions when her father had accompanied her, he’d been ready to accept the first price given by individual stallholders. Andrews relied on his daughter to secure the best deal.

  How would he cope on his own? They hired a woman to come into the house a couple of days a week to do domestic chores but she could never replace Madeleine at the market.

  The second thought was consequent upon the first. When she gave up shopping for her father, would she have to do it for her husband? Because no firm date had been set for the wedding, and because it had seemed to recede every time she raised the issue with Colbeck, she’d never really considered the details of her exact role as a wife. Would she be expected to do all the things she had done for her father? Colbeck had inherited a sizeable house in John Islip Street and had two servants to look after it. Madeleine had never employed full-time servants. Could she delegate the shopping to one of them? It was a moot point.

  She had a moment of slight panic when she realised how her existence would be transformed by marriage. There would be so much for her to learn. Yet Colbeck had already brought about many major changes in her life. Until he came into it, she could never have envisaged a relationship with such a highly intelligent member of the middle class. Her father had wanted her to marry another railwayman and it was from his circle of friends that her admirers necessarily came. Colbeck had altered all that. Madeleine had been able to educate herself by means of his extensive library and to improve her talent as an artist so much that her work was now in demand. She had, in more than one sense, emancipated herself from her class. As Mrs Colbeck, she would be a very different person from Miss Andrews.

  Her first thought returned with greater urgency and it posed a burning question. When she left home after the marriage, who would look after her father?

  Disguise was an established part of Colbeck’s armoury. There were parts of London where he would never dare to venture in his usual attire because it would make him stand out. To merge with the denizens, he had to look as if he belonged. For his visit to Deansgate, therefore, he changed into the rough garb he’d brought with him, wearing a large, battered cap and a pair of old boots. When he entered the district, he even adjusted his walk. Instead of his usual measured gait, he adopted a furtive scuffle. It meant that nobody gave him a second glance.

  Having located Adnam’s address, he first went to the nearest pub, reasoning that anyone who lived in such a depressing place would need the support of alcohol. The Eagle and Child was a dark, evil-smelling establishment filled with shabby characters hunched around the rickety tables. For the price of a pint of beer, Colbeck bought the landlord’s attention and gained some useful information about Silas Adnam. One fact was particularly significant.

  ‘Silas was in here last night,’ said the landlord, ‘drinking himself into a stupor. I reckon his daughter must have been to see him again because he had money to spend.’

  ‘Do you know the daughter’s name?’ asked Colbeck.

  ‘Yes – it’s Irene.’

  ‘Have you ever seen her?’

  The landlord shook his head. ‘She’s too good for the likes of us.’

  After finishing his drink, Colbeck walked the short distance to the house and banged on the door. He had to pound it again before it was opened. The whiskery face of Silas Adnam confronted him.

  ‘What do you want?’ he snarled.

  ‘I’ve come to talk about your daughter.’

  ‘She’s not here.’

  ‘I know,’ said Colbeck, ‘but she has been and that means you and I must have a conversation.’

  Pushing the door open, he stepped into the house and ignored the protests from the old man. When Colbeck explained who he was, Adnam’s tone became defensive.

  ‘Irene is a good girl,’ he said. ‘She takes care of me.’

  ‘Then she might have found you a more comfortable place to live, Mr Adnam. She could certainly afford it.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Irene has a lot of money.’

  ‘No, she doesn’t,’ insisted Adnam. ‘She’s a governess at a big house in London. Part of her wage comes in board and lodging. It takes her some time to save up money for her father.’

  ‘Why did she come here yesterday?’

  ‘She wanted to see me, of course.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Colbeck, ‘but why then of all days?’

  Adnam shrugged. ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘As a matter of fact, it does. How long did she stay?’

  ‘That’s none of your business, Inspector.’

  ‘It’s important for me to know.’

  ‘There’s no law against seeing my daughter, is there?’

  ‘None at all, sir,’ agreed Colbeck.

  ‘What happened between us is our affair.’

  ‘Under any other circumstances, it might be. As it is, the timing and duration of her visit are of considerable interest to me. So – I ask you again – how long was Irene here?’

  Adnam refused to answer. In a show of obstinacy, he flopped down onto his stool, folded his arms and turned away. It gave Colbeck the chance to look around the small, fetid room and to assess the value of the man’s few belongings. Adnam had clearly had a far better standard of living at one time. His voice was educated and he bore himself like someone who had once held responsibility. What had caused his fall Colbeck could only guess but it had been a very long and painful one. The man’s agony was etched deep into his face. Had the situation been different, Colbeck would have felt sorry for him. As it was, Adnam was obstructing a murder enquiry. He deserved no mercy.

  ‘It’s time for us to go, sir,’ ordered Colbeck.

  Adnam was flustered. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

  ‘If you won’t answer my questions, then I’ll hand you over to Inspector Boone at the police station. He has harsher methods than me and I’m told they always achieve the desired result.’ He took Adnam by the elbow. ‘Come with me, sir.’

  ‘But I’ve done nothing wrong!’ wailed Adnam.

  ‘You are impeding the operation of justice, sir.’

  ‘How am I doing that?’

  ‘Inspector Boone will explain that to you.’

  He lifted Adnam from his stool but the old man shook him off and limped to the corner of the room. Evidently, Boone’s name was known to him and it did not induce confidence. Adnam was like a cornered animal, searching for escape. Colbeck slipped a hand into his pocket and took out some handcuffs.

  ‘Do I have to take you by force, Mr Adnam?’ he threatened.

  ‘No, no – please don’t do that!’

  ‘Then tell me what I want to know.’

  ‘Irene came here, gave me some money, then she left. That’s all that happened, I swear it.’

  ‘And how long was she here – an hour, two hours?’

  Adnam looked both hunted and humiliated. The kind and caring daughter about whom he’d bragged in the pub the previous night had to be revealed in her true light. He cleared his throat.

  ‘Irene was here for five or ten minutes,’ he admitted.

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘Now we’re getting somewhere.’ He pointed to the stool. ‘Why don’t you sit down again so that you can continue this discussion in comfort?’

  The visit to the home of Kings
ley Adnam was unrewarding. Leeming and Peebles learnt that the man had six sons but no daughters. Nor was there anyone in his wider family answering to the name of Irene. Since the other address they sought was in an adjoining district, they decided to spurn a cab and walk there. After taking directions from a passer-by, the two detectives set off. Unlike Colbeck, they were not in disguise. Leeming was still nursing resentment against Peebles but he tried not to let it show. The Scotsman was inquisitive.

  ‘Is it true that you’re married, Sergeant?’

  ‘Yes, I have a wife and two children.’

  ‘Catherine and I have yet to talk about a family,’ said Peebles. ‘All that we can think about at the moment is the wedding itself. She saved my life, you know.’

  ‘Did she?’

  ‘Not that either of us realised it at the time, mark you. It was Catherine who persuaded me to leave the army. Until she and I met, I’d planned to spend my entire career serving my country.’

  ‘That was very patriotic of you,’ said Leeming, softening towards him. ‘But how was your life saved?’

  ‘Had I stayed in the army, I’d have joined my regiment in the Crimea and might well have been one of the many casualties we sustained. Sometimes, I feel rather guilty that I escaped death when several of my comrades did not but I’d given my word to Catherine.’

  ‘Yet you’ve only jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.’

  ‘I don’t follow.’

  ‘We, too, have our share of deaths,’ said Leeming. ‘They may not be on the same scale as in the army but they are there. You only have to think of those two policemen from Wolverhampton.’

  ‘It was an appalling crime. I feel for their families.’

  ‘It could happen to any us.’

  ‘I dispute that,’ said Peebles, beaming at him. ‘It could certainly never happen to you or Inspector Colbeck. You have an uncanny insight into people’s characters. It’s the basis of your success. Had that woman in Wolverhampton stepped into a compartment in which you were guarding a prisoner, you and the inspector would have known at once that she was there to aid him.’