Authors: Edward Marston
‘This is all very interesting, Inspector,’ said Tallis, brooding behind his desk, ‘but where does it get us?’
‘It explains exactly where the necessary information came from and it absolves the railway company of any blame.’
‘Yes,’ added Leeming. ‘It also tells us why Mr Ings was paid such a large amount of money. He had vital intelligence to sell.’
‘Who bought it from him?’ asked Tallis.
‘We have yet to determine that, sir.’
‘And how much longer do I have to wait before you do?’
‘That depends on what he does next,’ said Colbeck.
‘Next?’ repeated Tallis. ‘Are you telling me that we may expect another train robbery or additional murders?’
‘No, Superintendent. I am simply saying that the man who is behind these crimes will act in character – and that we now have a clear idea of what that character is.’
‘So do I. He is cunning, merciless and able to outwit us with ease.’
‘He has stayed one step ahead of us so far,’ agreed Colbeck, ‘but that will soon change. The aspect of his character that I would point to is his rooted dislike of railways. It amounts to abhorrence. I would not at all be surprised to learn that he is a landowner whose property has been encroached upon by a railway company. Robbing that train and wrecking that locomotive was his way of striking back.’
‘And?’
‘There will be more to come, sir.’
‘Why do you think that?’
‘This man wants blood.’
Since its mail train was ambushed, the London and Birmingham Railway Company had tightened its security. Two policemen now guarded each end of the various tunnels
that punctuated the 112 miles of track between the two cities. No risks were taken. Running to almost a mile and a half, the Kilsby Tunnel in Northamptonshire was the longest on the line and by far the costliest to build, taking all of two years to complete. It was the work of Robert Stephenson and a model of its kind. Most people marvelled at its construction but the three men who crept towards it that evening did not share in the general admiration of an outstanding feat of engineering.
The seized their moment. One of the railway policemen on duty was relieving himself behind a bush and the other was stuffing tobacco into his pipe. Both men were overpowered and tied up without offering any real resistance. The newcomers could carry on with their business. After checking their watches to see how much time they had before the next train, they went into the mouth of the tunnel at the Northamptonshire end. A small barrel of gunpowder was rolled against the brickwork. Loose stones were packed around it to keep it firmly in place.
Having lit the long fuse, the three men scampered to a place of safety and thought about the rich reward that they would earn. It was only a matter of time before the explosion occurred.
Returning to his office, Colbeck was both astonished and delighted to see Madeleine Andrews waiting for him there. She gave him a tentative smile.
‘I hope that I am not intruding, Inspector,’ she said.
‘Of course not.’
‘I know how busy you must be.’
‘That’s a hazard of my profession, Miss Andrews,’ he said, indicating the huge pile of papers on his desk. ‘Crimes are
committed in London every hour of the day. Being a detective means that one is kept constantly on one’s toes.’
‘Then I’ll not hold you up for long.’
‘At least, take a seat while you are here.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, lowering herself on to a chair and spreading her skirt out. ‘I really called to see if any progress had been made.’
‘A little, Miss Andrews. A little.’
‘The report in today’s newspaper was not very encouraging.’
‘Do not pay too much attention to what you read,’ he counselled. ‘Newspapers do not always have the full facts at their fingertips and some of them appear to take pleasure in baiting us. I can assure you that we have made more headway than they would lead you to believe.’
‘We were horrified to learn that there had been two murders. Is it true that they may possibly be related to the train robbery?’
‘Undeniably so.’
‘Why were they killed?’
‘The murder victims were accomplices who had to be silenced.’
‘How terrible!’
‘Except for the young woman, that is. She was an innocent person who happened to be in the wrong company at the wrong time.’
‘Yet they still cut her throat?’
‘We are dealing with ruthless men, Miss Andrews.’
‘Father discovered that.’
‘How is he, by the way?’
‘He gets better each day,’ she said, brightening.
‘Unfortunately, he also gets angrier and louder. I have difficulty in calming him down.’
‘I refuse to believe that. You know exactly how to handle him.’
His fond smile was tinged with disappointment. Madeleine met his gaze and held it for some time, trying to read the message in his eyes while sending a covert signal in her own. Colbeck was strongly aware of the mutual interest between them but he did not feel able to explore it. His visitor eventually broke the long silence.
‘I had a more personal reason for coming, Inspector,’ she said.
‘Indeed?’
‘Yes, I feel that I owe you an apology.’
‘Whatever for?’
‘My behaviour when you called at our house.’
‘I saw nothing that could warrant an apology, Miss Andrews.’
‘My father spoke out of turn.’
‘He does seem to have an impulsive streak.’
‘It led him to say something that he had no right to say,’ explained Madeleine, ‘and I did not wish you to be misled by it. The person that he mentioned – Gideon Little, a fireman – is a family friend but, as far as I am concerned, he can never be more than that. Father thinks otherwise.’
‘Your private life is no business of mine,’ he said, trying to ease her obvious discomfort. ‘Please do not feel that you have to offer either an apology or an explanation.’
‘I just wanted you to understand.’
‘Then I am grateful that you came.’
‘Really?’
‘Really,’ he confirmed.
Madeleine smiled with relief. ‘Then so am I, Inspector Colbeck.’ She got to her feet. ‘But I must let you get on with your work. What am I to tell my father?’
‘That he has a very beautiful daughter,’ said Colbeck, letting his admiration show, ‘though I daresay that he already knows that. As for the train robbery,’ he went on, ‘I can give him no hope of an early arrest. Indeed, I think you should warn him to brace himself.’
‘Why?’
‘Because the man behind the robbery will be back. In my view, he is conducting a feud against the railway system and he will not rest until he has inflicted more serious damage upon it.’
‘What do you mean?’ roared Sir Humphrey Gilzean, striking the side of his boot with his riding crop. ‘The attempt
failed
?’
‘It was only a partial success,’ said Thomas Sholto.
‘How partial? Was there no explosion?’
‘Yes, Humphrey.’
‘Then what went wrong?’
‘The gunpowder, it seems, was not in the ideal position. All that it did was to dislodge the brickwork on one side of the tunnel.’
‘It was intended to block the entrance completely.’
‘That did not happen, alas.’
‘Why ever not, Thomas? I gave orders.’
‘They were disobeyed,’ said Sholto. ‘The men decided that they could achieve the same results with a smaller amount of gunpowder than you had decreed. They were proved wrong.’
‘Damnation!’
‘They’ve been upbraided, believe me.’
‘I’ll do more than upbraid them,’ snarled Gilzean, slapping the back of a leather armchair with his crop. ‘I gave them precise instructions. Had they followed them to the letter, the train that was coming from the opposite direction would have crashed into the debris and put the Kilsby Tunnel out of action for a considerable time.’
‘That did not happen, Humphrey. Damage was limited.’
‘I
knew
that we should have done the job ourselves.’
‘Jukes and the others have never let us down before.’
‘They’ll not get the chance to do so again,’ vowed Gilzean, prowling vengefully around the hall of his house. ‘I know that. Instead of disrupting the railway, we simply gave them a salutary warning. The Kilsby Tunnel will be guarded by an army of policemen from now on.’ He flung his crop onto the armchair. ‘We lost our chance through sheer incompetence.’
‘They did not realise how solid that brickwork was.’
‘Almost as solid as their heads, by the sound of it. I don’t like it, Thomas. This is a bad omen. Until now, everything has gone so smoothly.’
‘Our luck had to change at some time.’
‘Luck does not come into it, man,’ retorted the other. ‘It is merely a question of good preparation and perfect timing. That is what served us so well with the train robbery – discipline. Were I still in the regiment,’ he said, waving a fist, ‘I’d have the three of them flogged until they had no skin left on their backs. Just wait until I see them. Disobey orders, will they?’ he cried. ‘By God, the next time I try to blow up a tunnel, I’ll make sure that each one of those blithering idiots is inside it!’
Madeleine Andrews made no objection this time when he suggested that she might return home in a cab. Shadows were lengthening and Camden began to seem a long way away. As they stood in Whitehall, however, she made no effort to hail a cab and neither did Colbeck. She wished to stay and he wanted her to linger. Their brief conversation in his office had redeemed his whole day. When a cab went past, they both ignored it.
‘I read what the newspaper said about you, Inspector.’
‘Did you?’
‘Yes,’ replied Madeleine. ‘It listed some of the other cases in which you’ve been involved. You’ve had a very successful career.’
‘I am only one of a team, Miss Andrews,’ he said, modestly. ‘Any success that I’ve enjoyed as a detective is due to the fact that I have people like Sergeant Leeming around me.’
‘That face of his would frighten me.’
‘Victor has many compensating virtues.’
‘I’m sure that he has.’ She looked up quizzically at him. ‘How did you come to know so much about locomotives?’
‘They interest me.’
‘Father could not believe that you could tell the difference between a Bury and a Crampton locomotive. That pleased him so much.’
‘Good,’ said Colbeck, studying her dimples. ‘Driving a train has always seemed to be to be an exciting occupation.’
‘Not to those who actually do it, Inspector. Father has to work long hours in all weathers. Standing on the footplate in heavy rain or driving snow is an ordeal. And think of the dirt. His clothing gets so filthy that I have to wash it in several
waters to get it clean.’
‘Has he ever wanted to change his job?’
‘No,’ she admitted. ‘He loves it too much.’
‘In spite of what happened to him this week?’
‘In spite of it.’
Colbeck grinned. ‘I rest my case.’
‘Being in a railway family is hard for any woman,’ she said. ‘Talk to Rose Pike. Her husband was the fireman. Rose will tell you how often Frank has come home with burns on his hand from the firebox or a mark on his face where some flying cinders have hit him. When she heard about the train robbery, she was terrified.’
‘Be fair, Miss Andrews. It was a unique event.’
‘That made no difference to Rose.’
Colbeck began to fish. ‘Coming back to what you were saying about a railway family,’ he said, casually. ‘Is it because you were brought up in one that you have no desire to marry a railwayman?’
‘I’ve no desire to marry anyone at present,’ she replied.
‘Yet you have a suitor.’
‘An unwanted suitor.’
‘Because he works on the railway?’
‘No, Inspector,’ she said with a shrug. ‘Because he is not the right husband for me. Gideon Little is a pleasant enough young man and I have always liked him, but that is the extent of my interest in him.’
‘You do not have to account to me for your feelings.’
‘I wanted you to appreciate the true position, Inspector.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Just as I now appreciate your situation.’
‘Is it so transparent, Miss Andrews?’
‘I think so,’ she said, looking him full in the eye. ‘You are married to your work, Inspector. It occupies you completely, does it not? Nothing else in your life matters.’
‘You may be wrong about that,’ said Colbeck with a slow smile. ‘Though I suspect that it may take time to convince you of it.’ The clatter of hooves made him look up. ‘Ah, here’s a cab at last!’ he noted. ‘Shall I stop it or do you reserve the right to hail it yourself?’
‘I accept your kind offer, Inspector. Thank you.’
Colbeck raised an arm and the cab drew up alongside them. He had the momentary pleasure of holding her hand to help her into the cab. There was an exchange of farewells. Madeleine gave an address to the driver and he flicked his reins. The horse trotted off up Whitehall. Colbeck had a sudden desire to sit beside her in the cab and continue their conversation indefinitely but other priorities called. Forcing himself to forget Madeleine Andrews, he went swiftly back to his office.
The dark-eyed young man in the ill-fitting brown suit emerged from the doorway where he had been lurking. Gideon Little set off with long strides in pursuit of the cab.
Darkness had fallen by the time that news of the explosion in the Kilsby Tunnel finally reached Scotland Yard. Superintendent Tallis was not entirely convinced that it was the work of the same people who had robbed the mail train but Inspector Colbeck had no doubts whatsoever on the subject. He decided to visit the scene of the crime in daylight. Accordingly, early next morning, he and Victor Leeming caught a train that would take them there with a minimum number of stops on the way. Knowing that his companion was a reluctant rail traveller, Colbeck tried to divert him with some facts about their destination.
‘What do you know about the tunnel, Victor?’ he asked.
‘Nothing – beyond the fact that it goes under ground.’
‘It’s a work of art. On my visit to the Midlands, I went through it twice and was struck by the sheer size of it. The Kilsby Tunnel is cavernous. It’s like being in a subterranean kingdom.’
‘I’ll take your word for it, Inspector.’
‘When he undertook the project, Mr Stephenson thought it would be relatively straightforward because they would be cutting their way through a mixture of clay and sand.
Unhappily,’ said Colbeck, ‘much of it turned out to be quicksand so the whole area had first to be drained. It was slow and laborious work.’
‘Like being a detective,’ noted the other, lugubriously.
Colbeck laughed. ‘Only in the sense that we, too, come up against unforeseen hazards,’ he said. ‘But our job is far less dangerous than that of the miners who sunk those enormous ventilation shafts or the navvies who dug out all that soil. How many bricks would you say were needed to line the tunnel?’
‘Hundreds of thousands, probably,’ guessed Leeming, unable to share the Inspector’s enthusiasm for the topic. ‘I hope that you are not asking me to count them when we get there.’
‘It would take you a lifetime, Victor.’
‘Why, sir?’
‘Because millions of bricks were used,’ said Colbeck. ‘A steam clay mill and kilns were built on site by Mr Stephenson so that he had a constant supply of 30,000 bricks per day. Imagine that, if you will.’ Leeming stifled a yawn. ‘The original estimate – would you believe – was for a total of 20 million bricks, some of them made from the clay that was excavated from the tunnel itself.’
‘How do you know all this, Inspector?’
‘I took the trouble to do some research on the subject.’
‘In that library of yours, you mean?’
‘Yes, Victor.’
‘I wouldn’t know where to look.’
‘Start with a history of the London and Birmingham Railway,’ said Colbeck. ‘That was the name of the company that operated this line when the tunnel was built. It was only
amalgamated into the London and North Western Railway Company five years ago.’
‘Now that’s something I
did
know,’ said Leeming. ‘Every person I spoke to at the company made a point of telling me.’ He gave Colbeck a meaningful glance. ‘But not one of them mentioned how many bricks there were in the Kilsby Tunnel.’
‘Point taken,’ said Colbeck, smiling. ‘You are not in the mood for a lecture about the railway. Given the choice, I suspect, you would rather be making this journey on horseback.’
‘Or in the comfort of a stage coach, sir.’
‘Either way, you would have been much slower.’
‘Would I?’
‘By the time you got to Northamptonshire, I would have been back at my desk in London. Railways are helping to defeat time.’
When the train passed through Leighton Buzzard Station, they were pleased to see that the wrecked locomotive near the Linslade Tunnel had been removed, leaving deep indentations in the grass where it had come to rest. Though the robbery had been a serious crime with murderous consequences, Colbeck was very conscious of the fact that it had introduced him to Madeleine Andrews. He regarded that as an incidental bonus. His mind was filled with pleasant thoughts of her as they crossed the county border.
Stations flashed pass them at regular intervals then – to Leeming’s obvious relief – the train began to slow down. The detectives alighted at Crick to be greeted by a familiar sight. The hulking figure of Inspector Rory McTurk came along the station platform to give them a blunt reception.
‘What are
you
doing here, Inspector Colbeck?’ he asked.
‘We wanted the pleasure of renewing your acquaintance,’ replied Colbeck, touching the brim of his hat with courtesy. ‘I’m sure that you remember Sergeant Leeming.’
‘I do,’ grunted the Scotsman.
‘Good morning, Inspector,’ said Leeming.
‘Neither of you is needed here. This is railway business.’
‘Not when it’s related to the train robbery,’ asserted Colbeck.
‘What makes you think that?’
‘I’ll tell you when we have examined the scene.’ The locomotive was starting up again. ‘I see that the line has been reopened.’
‘In both directions,’ said McTurk. ‘A team of men worked through the night to clear the obstruction. Everything is as it should be now.’
‘Were there no policemen on duty at the tunnel?’
‘Two of them, Inspector. They were both overpowered.’
‘What game of cards were they playing
this
time?’ asked Leeming.
McTurk scowled. ‘Follow me,’ he said.
When the train had departed, they went down onto the track and strolled in the direction of the Kilsby Tunnel. McTurk walked with a proprietary strut. Since he was landed with him, Colbeck tried to make use of the combative Scotsman.
‘The news reached us by telegraph,’ he said. ‘Details were scarce.’
‘Then how can you link this outrage with the train robbery?’
‘I was expecting it.’
‘You expected it?’ said McTurk. ‘Why did you not
forewarn us?’
‘Because I had no idea
where
they would strike, Inspector, only that an attack of some sort was imminent. From what I gather,’ Colbeck went on, ‘you had something of a lucky escape.’
McTurk frowned. ‘Two railway policemen injured and an explosion in the longest tunnel on the line – I fail to see how you can talk about luck. It could have been worse,’ he admitted, ‘much worse, but it is still bad enough.’
He grumbled all the way to the mouth of the tunnel itself. Colbeck and Leeming said nothing to interrupt him. The first thing they noticed was the large pile of rubble to the side of the track that carried up trains to London. Working from ladders and trestles, bricklayers were already trying to repair the damage. Leeming saw an opportunity to air his limited knowledge of tunnel construction.
‘Tell me, Inspector McTurk,’ he said. ‘Do you happen to know how many bricks were used in the Kilsby Tunnel?’
‘Too bloody many!’ came the tart reply.
Leeming chose not to pursue the conversation.
Colbeck went into the tunnel to examine the full extent of the damage. He tried to work out where the gunpowder must have been when it exploded. McTurk came to stand at his shoulder.
‘By the end of the day,’ he said, ‘it will be as good as new.’
‘What about the two men who were attacked?’ asked Colbeck. ‘Are they as good as new, Inspector?’
‘They’re still a bit shaken but they’ll be back at work soon.’
‘Were they able to give a description of their assailants?’
‘No,’ said McTurk. ‘They were grabbed from behind,
knocked unconscious and tied up. They didn’t even hear the explosion go off. There’s no point in talking to them.’
‘Perhaps not.’ He felt inside a hole where the brickwork had been blasted away. ‘What was the intention behind it all?’
McTurk was contemptuous. ‘I’m surprised that a man of your experience has to ask that, Inspector Colbeck,’ he said. ‘The intention is plain. They tried to close the tunnel in order to disrupt the railway.’
‘I think that there is more to it than that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘These people do nothing at random, believe me. The explosion would have gone off at a specific time and for a specific purpose. When was the next up train due to enter the tunnel at the other end?’
‘Not long before the explosion. Fortunately, it was late.’
‘There’s your answer, Inspector McTurk.’
‘Is it?’
‘The tunnel was supposed to collapse just before the train reached it. The driver would have been going too fast to stop. The locomotive would have ploughed into the rubble and the whole train would have been derailed.
That
was their intention,’ declared Colbeck. ‘To block the tunnel, destroy a train and kill passengers in the process.’
‘But there were no passengers on board the train.’
‘Then what was it carrying?’
‘Goods.’
‘Any particular kinds of goods?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘Because it may be significant.’
‘I don’t see how,’ said McTurk, irritably. ‘My information
is that the wagons were simply carrying huge pieces of glass from the Chance Brothers’ Factory.’
‘Of course!’ cried Colbeck. ‘That explains it.’
McTurk looked blank. ‘Does it?’
‘I’m as mystified as Inspector McTurk,’ confessed Leeming as he joined them. ‘How can some sheets of glass provide the explanation?’
‘Think of where they would be going, Victor,’ advised Colbeck.
‘To the customer who bought them, I suppose.’
‘What’s so remarkable about that?’ said McTurk.
‘The customer in question happens to be Joseph Paxton,’ replied Colbeck, ‘the man who designed the Crystal Palace. And who had the contract for supplying all that glass? Chance Brothers.’
McTurk lifted his hat to scratch his head. ‘I’m still lost.’
‘So am I,’ said Leeming.
‘Then you have obviously not been reading all the advertisements for the Great Exhibition. What is it,’ said Colbeck, ‘but a celebration of British industry? One of the main elements in that is the primacy of our railway system. A number of locomotives will be on display – but only if the structure is finished, and that depends on the supply of the glass panels that were commissioned from Chance Brothers.’
Leeming blinked. ‘They were trying to
stop
the Great Exhibition?’
‘At the very least, they were doing their best to hamper the completion of the Crystal Palace,’ argued Colbeck. ‘The explosion was contrived by someone who not only wanted to put the tunnel out of action, he also hoped to delay an exhibition in which the steam locomotive will have pride of
place.’
‘All I see is wanton damage,’ said McTurk, looking around.
‘Look for the deeper meaning, Inspector.’
‘I’ve tried. But I’m damned if I can spot it.’
‘What happened to the train carrying the glass?’ said Leeming.
‘I told you, Sergeant. It was late. The driver was a mile or so short of the tunnel when the explosion went off. Must have sounded like an earthquake to him.’
‘The noise would have echoed along the whole tunnel.’
‘And well beyond,’ said McTurk. ‘When the driver heard it, he slowed the train immediately. The signalmen at the other end of the tunnel were, in any case, flagging him down.’
‘So the sheets of glass were undamaged?’
‘They were taken on to London as soon as the line was cleared.’
‘Thank you, Inspector McTurk,’ said Colbeck, shaking his hand. ‘You have been a great help. Forgive us if we rush off. We need to catch the next train back to Euston.’
‘Do we?’ asked Leeming. ‘But we have not seen everything yet.’
‘We’ve seen all that we need to, Victor. The man we are after has just given himself away. I know what he will do next.’
Leaving a bewildered Inspector McTurk in his wake, Colbeck led his companion back towards Crick Station. There was a spring in the Inspector’s step. For the first time since the investigation had begun, he felt that he might have the advantage.
It was Gideon Little who told them about the incident. His ostensible reason for calling at the house was to see how Caleb Andrews was faring and to pass on details of the attack on the Kilsby Tunnel. A train on which Little had been the fireman that morning had been as far as Northampton and back. He had picked up all the news. In telling it to Andrews, he was also able to get close to Madeleine once more. She was as alarmed as her father by what she heard.
‘Was anyone hurt, Gideon?’
‘Only the railway policemen on duty,’ said Little, enjoying her proximity. ‘They were ambushed and knocked on the head.’
Andrews was rueful. ‘I know how
that
feels!’
‘Why would anyone damage the tunnel?’ asked Madeleine.
‘I wish I knew,’ said Little. ‘It’s very worrying. If a train had been coming through at that time, there would have been a terrible crash.’
‘Thank heaven that never happened!’
‘Railways still have lots of enemies,’ said Andrews. ‘I’m old enough to remember a time when landowners would do anything to stop us if we tried to go across their property. Boulders on the line, track pulled up, warning fires lit – I saw it all. And it was not just landowners.’
‘No,’ added Little, mournfully. ‘People who ran stage coaches feared that railways might put them out of business. So did canal owners. Then there are those who say we destroy the countryside.’
‘We are not destroying it, Gideon. Railways make it possible for people to
see
our beautiful countryside. The many who are stuck in ugly towns all week can take an excursion train on a Sunday and share in the pleasures that
the few enjoy. We offer a public service,’ Andrews went on with conviction. ‘We open up this great country of ours.’
They were in the main bedroom and the driver was resting against some pillows. His arm was still in a sling and his broken leg held fast in a splint. An occasional wince showed that he was still in pain. Pressed for details, Little told him everything that he could about the explosion but his eyes kept straying to Madeleine, hoping to see a sign of affection that never materialised. When it was time for him to go, she showed the visitor to the door but did not linger.
‘Goodbye, Madeleine,’ said Little.
‘Thank you for coming to see Father.’
‘It was you that I came to see.’
She forced a smile. ‘Goodbye.’
Madeleine closed the door after him then went back upstairs.