The Railway Detective irc-1

by Edward Marston

  ‘Inspector Colbeck wanted me there.’

  ‘He was exceeding his authority.’

  ‘What does it matter, sir?’

  ‘It matters a great deal, Mulryne,’ said Tallis, acidly, ‘as you should know. A police force is run on discipline. It was a lesson that you never learnt when you were in uniform.’

  ‘There were too many rules and regulations.’

  ‘You managed to break each and every one of them.’

  Mulryne beamed. ‘I never was a man for half-measures.’

  ‘You were an embarrassment to all of us.’

  ‘Inspector Colbeck doesn’t think so. Neither does Mr Mayne. By the way, Superintendent, did you know that we had something in common – me and the Police Commissioner, that is?’

  ‘Beyond the fact that you both happen to be Irish,’ said Tallis, superciliously, ‘I can’t see the slightest affinity.’

  ‘That’s because you don’t know my background, see. It turns out that Mr Mayne’s father was one of the judges of the Court of King’s Bench in Dublin. In short,’ said Mulryne, cheerily, ‘he must have been the same Judge Mayne that sent my father to prison for three years for a crime that he didn’t commit.’

  ‘I should have guessed that you’re the son of a convicted criminal.’

  ‘It was the reason I wanted to be a policeman.’

  ‘Old habits die hard, Mulryne.’

  ‘Yes,’ said the other, ‘so I notice, Superintendent. You still have a habit of smoking those foul cigars.’ He sniffed Tallis’s lapel. ‘Sure, I can smell the stink of them in your clothes.’

  Tallis pushed him away. ‘Get off, man – and get out of here!’

  ‘Is there any chance of a word with Inspector Colbeck first?’

  ‘No, the Inspector is busy.’

  ‘I don’t mind waiting.’

  ‘I’ll not have you on the premises. Besides,’ he said, ‘Inspector Colbeck may be some time. He is about to question one of the men who was arrested last night.’

  ‘Have they given you the names of their accomplices yet?’

  ‘Unfortunately, they have not.’

  ‘Then you should let me talk to them,’ offered Mulryne, pounding a fist into the palm of the other hand. ‘Put me in a cell with one of them and I’d have him talking his head off inside two minutes.’

  ‘We do not resort to violence.’

  ‘A crying shame!’

  ‘In any case, even you would not be able to beat a confession out of them. I have been interrogating criminals for several years but I could not break down their resistance.’

  ‘Maybe you asked the wrong questions.’

  ‘Inspector Colbeck is seeing one of the men for the second time,’ explained Tallis. ‘He feels that he now has a means of opening the man’s mouth a little.’

  Frank Pike had no hesitation in identifying the man. When he saw Arthur Jukes through the bars of his cell, he picked him out immediately as the person who had clubbed Caleb Andrews to the ground and forced the fireman to drive the locomotive off the track. Pike also recognised the Seymour brothers as having been involved in the robbery. Robert Colbeck’s problem was to get the fireman out of there. Confronted with the man who had held a pistol on him, Pike wanted retribution and, denied the opportunity to attack the man, he yelled abuse at Jukes through the bars. Jukes replied in kind and the air was blue with ripe language. Colbeck needed the help of Victor Leeming to hustle the visitor out of the area.

  When Pike had left, the detectives questioned Jukes in a room that contained nothing beyond a table and three chairs. Still handcuffed, Jukes was surly and withdrawn.

  ‘You have been formally identified as the man who assaulted the driver of that train,’ said Colbeck. ‘Do you admit the crime?’

  ‘No,’ replied Jukes.

  ‘Mr Andrews himself identified the artist’s sketch of you.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘We have two eyewitnesses, Mr Jukes.’

  ‘Had Mr Andrews died from his injuries,’ said Leeming, ‘you might now be facing a charge of murder. That’s a hanging offence.’

  ‘Mr Jukes might still have the opportunity to mount the gallows,’ Colbeck reminded him. ‘The murders of William Ings and Daniel Slender have yet to be accounted for. Were you responsible for those, Mr Jukes?’

  ‘No,’ asserted the other.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m no killer, Inspector Colbeck.’

  ‘Yet the army taught you how to take a man’s life.’

  ‘That was different.’

  ‘Did you kill anyone when you were in uniform?’

  ‘Only in combat.’

  ‘You have admitted something at last,’ said Colbeck, watching the prisoner’s eyes. ‘We are starting to make progress.’

  ‘What about the explosion at the Kilsby Tunnel?’ asked Leeming. ‘I suppose that you were not party to that either.’

  ‘No,’ said Jukes. ‘This is the first I’ve heard about it.’

  ‘I think that you are lying.’

  ‘You may think what you wish, Sergeant.’

  ‘Since we caught you with a barrel of gunpowder at the Crystal Palace, it’s logical to assume that you caused the earlier explosion. You and your accomplices are obviously experienced in such work.’

  Jukes was stony-faced. ‘Are we?’

  ‘Let me ask you another question,’ said Colbeck, changing his tack. ‘Why did you leave the army?’

  ‘Because I only enlisted for a certain number of years.’

  ‘What occupation did you take up?’

  ‘That’s my business.’

  ‘Discharged soldiers often find it difficult to get employment.’

  ‘I managed,’ said Jukes, uneasily.

  ‘Even though you had no trade to follow?’

  ‘One of the Seymour brothers told us that he worked as a slaughterman in an abattoir,’ said Leeming. ‘Is that the sort of job you were forced to take, Mr Jukes?’

  ‘Of course not,’ snarled the prisoner.

  ‘You must have done something,’ argued Colbeck. ‘When you were arrested, you were wearing a wedding ring. I remember feeling it when you punched me,’ he said, rubbing his chin. ‘That means you have a wife to support, Mr Jukes. How did you do it?’

  ‘Leave my wife out of this!’

  ‘Do you have children, by any chance?’

  ‘My family do not go short.’

  ‘But they will suffer now, won’t they?’ Jukes scowled at him before turning his head away. ‘What I am trying to suggest to you,’ said Colbeck, gently, ‘is that you may have been earning a paltry wage – or, perhaps, were actually out of work – when you received the invitation to take part in a train robbery. You are not, by instinct, a criminal, Mr Jukes. What drove you to break the law was the desire to do better for your family.’

  ‘Is that true?’ pressed Leeming.

  ‘Does your wife know where all that money came from?’

  ‘Did you tell her what you were going to do at the Crystal Palace?’

  Jukes said nothing but his silence was eloquent. As he stared unseeingly in front of him, there was a deep sadness in his eyes. The detectives noted how tense the prisoner’s whole body had become.

  ‘There is only one way to help yourself,’ advised Colbeck, ‘and that is by cooperating with us. Any assistance you give will be looked upon favourably by the judge.’

  ‘It could well lead to a reduction in your sentence,’ said Leeming.

  ‘So tell us, Mr Jukes. Who organised the train robbery?’

  ‘Was it someone you met in the army?’

  ‘Or someone you were introduced to by the Seymour brothers? We will catch the man before long, Mr Jukes,’ said Colbeck, ‘make no mistake about that. But you are in a position to save us time and trouble. Now, then,’ he went on, leaning forward across the table, ‘why not think of your own plight and seek to ease it? Give us his name.’

  ‘Never,’ retorted Jukes.

 
‘Your loyalty is mistaken.’

  ‘You’re the one who’s mistaken, Inspector. You may have had the luck to catch us but that’s as far as you’ll get. Harry and Vernon are like me. We’d sooner hang than tell you the name you want. As for catching him before long,’ he added with a mocking laugh, ‘you are in for a big surprise. He can run rings around the Metropolitan Police Force. You’ll never catch him in a month of Sundays.’

  It happened in broad daylight. Madeleine Andrews had just made her father comfortable in bed next morning when she heard a knock at the front door. She glanced through the bedroom window and saw a uniformed policeman below. Thinking that he might have brought more news, she hurried downstairs to open the door. The policeman, a bearded man with a polite manner, touched the brim of his hat.

  ‘Miss Madeleine Andrews?’ he inquired.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I have come with a request from Inspector Colbeck. He wonders if you could spare an hour to call on him at Scotland Yard.’

  Madeleine was taken aback. ‘Now?’

  ‘I have a cab to take you there,’ said the other, ‘and it will bring you back to your house.’

  ‘Did the Inspector say why he wished to see me?’

  ‘No, Miss Andrews, but it must be a matter of some importance or he would not be summoning you like this.’ He made to leave. ‘I can see that it is not convenient. I’ll tell Inspector Colbeck that he will have to meet you another time.’

  ‘Wait,’ she said. ‘I can come with you. I just need to tell my father where I am going first. Please excuse me.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Madeleine went back upstairs, explained the situation to her father and promised that she would not be long. She went quickly into her own bedroom to look at herself in the mirror and to adjust her clothing and hair. When she reappeared at the door, she was wearing a hat.

  ‘This way, Miss Andrews,’ said the policeman.

  He escorted her to the waiting cab and helped her up into it. As soon as he sat beside her, however, his manner changed abruptly. One arm around Madeleine to restrain her, he used the other hand to cover her mouth with a handkerchief.

  ‘Do as you’re told,’ ordered Thomas Sholto, ‘or you’ll never see your precious Inspector Colbeck again.’

  The cab was driven away at speed.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Arthur Jukes gave nothing away. No matter how much pressure they applied, the detectives could not get the answers that they required. They interrogated the other prisoners separately but with the same negative result. Vernon Seymour was openly defiant and his younger brother, Harry, boasted that they would not stay under lock and key for long. He seemed to have a naïve faith that someone would come to his rescue and confound the forces of law and order. When all three men were back in their cells, Robert Colbeck adjourned to his office with Victor Leeming. The Sergeant was not optimistic.

  ‘It’s like trying to get blood out of a stone,’ he moaned.

  ‘We need to be patient, Victor.’

  ‘We failed. I thought it was a brilliant idea of yours to let Mr Tallis loose on them but even he, with his military background, could not frighten them into revealing the name of their paymaster. Why are they so loyal to this man?’

  ‘I think it’s a combination of loyalty and fear,’ said Colbeck. ‘They know just how ruthless he can be. Even if they were not directly involved in the murders of William Ings and Daniel Slender, they would surely be aware of them. If they betray their leader, they are afraid that they will be signing their own death warrants.’

  ‘But they are in police custody.’

  ‘I regret to admit it, Victor, but there are ways of getting to people even when they are in the most secure prisons. No,’ said Colbeck, ‘there’s little chance that any of them will volunteer the name that we seek. All that we can do is to remain calm, question them at intervals and hope that one of them makes a slip.’

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘Harry Seymour would be my choice. He’s the youngest.’

  ‘He’s convinced that he is about to be rescued.’

  ‘That proves my point. Whoever has been employing the three men has persuaded them that he is invincible, and that he has the power to get them out of any situation. In other words, he must be a man of considerable influence.’

  ‘Nobody is above the law,’ said Leeming.

  ‘This man obviously believes that he is.’

  ‘Where do we go from here, Inspector?’

  Colbeck rested against the edge of his desk and pondered. Having caught the three men in the act of committing a heinous crime, he had hoped that they had taken a giant stride forward in the investigation but they had suddenly come to a halt. Evidently, Arthur Jukes and the Seymour brothers had been taught how to behave in the event of arrest. In taking them out of action, Colbeck and his men had performed a valuable service but the rest of the gang was at liberty and there was no simple way of identifying them. What was certain was that the failure of his plot to blow up the locomotives at the Crystal Palace would enrage the man who had set it in motion. Colbeck feared reprisals.

  ‘First, we must find out which regiment they served in,’ he said.

  ‘They refused to tell us.’

  ‘We have their names, Victor. It is only a question of checking the records. I leave that to you.’

  ‘Where do I start?’ asked Leeming, over-awed by the task.

  ‘With regiments that have served in India.’

  ‘India?’

  ‘You saw the complexion of those three men,’ said Colbeck. ‘They have clearly spent time in a hot country. Also, Harry Seymour made his first slip. The custody sergeant told me that he had the gall to ask when tiffin would be brought to his cell.’

  ‘Tiffin?’

  ‘It’s an Indian word for a midday meal.’

  ‘The bare-faced cheek of the man!’ said Leeming, angrily. ‘What does Harry Seymour expect – a dozen oysters and a pint of beer, with apple pie to follow? He’ll be asking for a butler next.’

  ‘My guess is that all three of them were in an infantry regiment. The brothers would certainly have served together and they treat Jukes with that mixture of jocularity and respect that soldiers reserve for a corporal or a sergeant. When people have been in the army for any length of time,’ observed Colbeck, ‘they can never entirely shake off its effects.’

  ‘You only have to look at Mr Tallis to see that.’

  Colbeck smiled. ‘Major Tallis, please.’

  ‘Did he have any idea which regiment they might have been in?’

  ‘Not his own, anyway – the 6th Dragoon Guards. None of them would have lasted a week in that, according to the Superintendent. He had a very low opinion of them as soldiers.’

  ‘Someone obviously values their abilities.’

  ‘The most likely person,’ said Colbeck, ‘is an officer from the same regiment, someone whom they would instinctively obey. When you find where they served in India, make a list of any officers who have retired from their regiment in recent years.’

  ‘Yes, Inspector.’

  ‘After that, I have another assignment for you.’

  Leeming grimaced. ‘I thought that you might.’

  ‘Visit all of the slaughterhouses within the London area,’ suggested Colbeck. ‘If Vernon Seymour used to work in one of them, they’ll remember him and might even provide an address.’

  ‘Regiments and slaughterhouses.’

  ‘That should keep you busy.’

  ‘This job never lacks for variety.’

  ‘The more we can find out about those three men, the better.’

  ‘What about Jukes? He’s the only one who has a wife and family.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Should we not try to track them down, sir?’

  ‘No need of that, Victor. You saw the fellow earlier on. The one moment he looked vulnerable was when we touched on his marriage.’

  ‘Yes,’ recalled Leeming. ‘He obviously ca
res for his wife.’

  ‘Then she will doubtless love him in return,’ said Colbeck. ‘When he’s been missing long enough, she’ll become alarmed and turn to us for help. All that we have to do is to wait.’

  ‘I’ll make a start with those regimental records.’

  ‘The Superintendent will be able to offer guidance. I daresay that he’ll reel some of the names straight off.’

  ‘I was banking on that, sir.’ He opened the door. ‘This may take me some time – well into tomorrow, probably. What about you, sir?’

  ‘Oh, I’ll be here for hours yet. It will be another late night for me.’

  ‘At least we do not have to spend it underneath a locomotive.’

  Colbeck laughed and Leeming went out. Three nights without sleep were starting to take their toll on both of them but the Inspector drove himself on. There was no time to rest on his laurels. The man he was after was still in a position to make further strikes against railways and Colbeck was determined to get to him before he did so. Sitting behind his desk, he took out his notebook and went through all the details he had gathered during his interviews with the three prisoners. What stood out was the similarity of their denials. It was almost as if they had agreed what they were going to say even though they had deliberately been kept in separate cells. Someone had drilled them well.

  An hour later, Colbeck was still bent over his desk, working by the light of the gas lamp that shed a golden circle around one end of the room. When there was a tap on the door, he did not at first hear it. A second and much louder knock made him look up.

  ‘Come in!’ he called. A clerk entered. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Someone wishes to see you, Inspector.’

  Colbeck’s hopes rose. ‘A young lady, by any chance?’

  ‘No, sir. A man called Gideon Little.’

  ‘Did he say what he wanted?’

  ‘Only that it was a matter of the utmost importance.’

  ‘Show him in.’

  The clerk went out and left Colbeck to speculate on the reason for the unexpected visit. He remembered that Little was the suitor whom Madeleine Andrews had chosen to turn down. Colbeck wondered if the man had come to blame him for the fact that he had been rejected, though he could not imagine why. As soon as he saw Gideon Little, however, he realised that his visitor had not come to tax him in any way. The man was hesitant and agitated. Dressed in his work clothes, he stepped into the room and looked nervously around it, patently unused to being in an office. Colbeck introduced himself and offered him a chair but Little refused. Taking a few tentative steps towards the desk, he looked appealingly into Colbeck’s eyes.