Authors: Edward Marston
Madeleine caught her breath. ‘I’m so relieved, Inspector!’
‘Tell your father that he’s escaped arrest on this occasion.’
‘It will be a huge load off his mind – and off mine.’
‘I’m delighted that I’ve been able to give you some reassurance.’
Relaxed and happy, Madeleine Andrews looked like a completely different woman. A smile lit up her eyes and her dimples were expressive. She had come to Scotland Yard in trepidation and had feared the worst. Madeleine had not expected to meet such a considerate and well-spoken detective
as Robert Colbeck. He did not fit her image of a policeman at all and she was profoundly grateful.
For his part, Colbeck warmed to her. It had taken courage to admit that her father had been at fault, especially when she feared dire consequences from the revelation. There was a quiet integrity about Madeleine Andrews that appealed to him and he was by no means immune to her physical charms. Now that she was no longer so tense, he could appreciate them to the full. Pleased that she had come, he was glad to be able to put her mind at rest.
‘Thank you, Inspector,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘I must get back home to tell Father. He felt so dreadfully guilty about this.’
Colbeck rose at well. ‘I think that some censure is in order,’ he pointed out. ‘Mr Andrews did speak out of turn about the mail train, that much is clear. On reflection, he will come to see how foolish that was and be more careful in future.’
‘Oh, he will, he will.’
‘I leave it to you to issue a stern warning.’
‘Father needs to be kept in line at times. He can be wayward.’
‘What he requires now,’ suggested Colbeck, ‘is a long rest. Far from dismissing him, the London and North Western Railway Company should be applauding him for trying to protect their train.’ He smiled at her. ‘When would it be possible for me to call on your father?’
‘At home, you mean?’
‘I hardly expect Mr Andrews to come hopping around here.’
‘No, no,’ she said with a laugh.
‘Mr Pike has given me his version of events, of course, but I would like to hear what your father has to say. Is there any chance that I might question him tomorrow?’
‘Yes, Inspector – if he continues to improve.’
‘I’ll delay my arrival until late morning.’
‘We will expect you,’ said Madeleine, glad that she would be seeing him again. Their eyes locked for a moment. Both of them felt a mild
frisson
. It was she who eventually turned away. ‘I’ve taken up too much of your time, Inspector. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.’
‘One moment,’ he said, putting a hand on her arm to stop her. ‘I may be a detective but I find it much easier to visit a house when I know exactly where it is.’ He took out his notebook. ‘Could I trouble you for an address, Miss Andrews?’
She gave another laugh. ‘Yes – how silly of me!’
He wrote down the address that she dictated then closed the notebook. When he looked up, she met his gaze once more and there was a blend of interest and regret in her eyes. Colbeck was intrigued.
‘I hope that you catch these men soon, Inspector,’ she said.
‘We will make every effort to do so.’
‘What they did to my father was unforgivable.’
‘They will be justly punished, Miss Andrews.’
‘He was heart-broken when he heard what happened to his locomotive. Father dotes on it. Why did they force it off the track? It seems so unnecessary.’
‘It was. Unnecessary and gratuitous.’
‘Do you have any idea who the train robbers might be?’
‘We have identified two of their accomplices,’ he told her, ‘and we are searching for both men. One of them – a former
employee of the Post Office – should be in custody before too long.’
William Ings was astounded by his good fortune. He never thought that he would meet any woman whose company he preferred to a game of cards but that is what had happened in the case of Kate Piercey. He had shared a night of madness with her and spent most of the next day in her arms. Kate was younger, livelier and more sensual than Polly Roach. Her breath was far sweeter, her body firmer. More to the point, she was not as calculating as the woman he had discarded on the previous night. Ings had bumped into her in the street as he fled from the clutches of Polly Roach. He knew that the collision was no accident – she had deliberately stepped out of the shadows into his path – but that did not matter. He felt that the encounter was fateful.
There was something about Kate that excited him from the start, an amalgam of boldness and vulnerability that he found irresistible. She was half-woman and half-child, mature yet nubile, experienced yet seemingly innocent. William Ings was a realist. He knew that he was not the first man to enjoy her favours and he had no qualms about paying for them, but he was soon overcome by the desire to be the last of her clients, to covet her, to protect her, to rescue her from the hazards of her profession and shape her into something better. Impossible as the dream might appear, he wanted to be both father and lover to Kate Piercey.
As he watched her dress that evening by the light of the lamp, he was enchanted. Polly Roach might have brought him to the Devil’s Acre but she had been displaced from his mind completely.
‘Where shall we go, Billy?’ she asked.
‘Wherever you wish,’ he replied.
‘We can eat well but cheaply at Flanagan’s.’
‘Then we’ll go elsewhere. That place is not good enough for you.’
She giggled. ‘You say the nicest things.’
‘You deserve the best, Kate. Let me take you somewhere special.’
‘You’re so kind to me.’
‘No, my love,’ he said, slipping his arms around her, ‘it’s you who are kind to me.’ He kissed her once more. ‘I adore you.’
‘But you’ve known me less than twenty-four hours, Billy.’
‘That’s long enough. Now, where can we dine together?’
‘There’s a new place in Victoria Street,’ she told him, ‘but they say that it’s very expensive.’
He thrust his hand deep into his leather bag and brought out a fistful of bank notes. Ings held them proudly beneath her nose, as if offering them in tribute.
‘Do you think that this would buy us a good meal?’
‘Billy!’ she cried with delight. ‘Where did you get all that money?’
‘I’ve been saving it up until I met you,’ he said.
Madeleine Andrews was touched when Colbeck insisted on escorting her to the front door of the building. Light was beginning to fade and there was a gentle breeze. She turned to look up at him.
‘Thank you, Inspector. You are very kind.’
‘It must have taken an effort for you to come here.’
‘It did,’ she said. ‘The worst of it was that I felt like a
criminal.’
‘You’ve done nothing wrong, Miss Andrews.’
‘I shared my father’s guilt.’
‘All that he was guilty of was thoughtless indiscretion,’ he said, ‘and I’m sure that nobody could ever accuse you of that.’ Her gaze was quizzical. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. I did not mean to stare like that.’
‘You seem to be puzzled by something.’
‘I suppose that I am.’
‘Let me see if I can guess what it is, Miss Andrews,’ he said with a warm smile. ‘The question in your eyes is the one that I’ve asked myself from time to time. What is a man like me doing in this job?’
‘You are so different to any policemen that I have ever met.’
‘In what way?’
‘They are much more like the man who showed me to your office.’
‘That was Sergeant Leeming,’ he explained. ‘I’m afraid that Victor is not blessed with the most handsome face in London, though his wife loves him dearly nevertheless.’
‘It was his manner, Inspector.’
‘Polite but rough-edged. I know what you mean. Victor spent years, pounding his beat in uniform. It leaves its mark on a man. My time in uniform was considerably shorter. However,’ he went on, looking up Whitehall, ‘you did not come here to be bored by my life story. Let me help you find a cab.’
‘I had planned to walk some of the way, Inspector.’
‘I’d advise against it, Miss Andrews. It is not always safe for an attractive woman to stroll unaccompanied at this time
of day.’
‘I am well able to look after myself.’
‘It will be dark before long.’
‘I am not afraid of the dark.’
‘Why take any risks?’
Seeing a cab approach in the distance, he raised a hand.
‘There is no risk involved,’ she said with a show of spirit. ‘Please do not stop the cab on my account. If I wished to take it, I am quite capable of hailing it myself.’
He lowered his hand. ‘I beg your pardon.’
‘You must not worry about me. I am much stronger than I may appear. After all, I did come here on foot.’
He was taken aback. ‘You
walked
from Camden Town?’
‘It was good exercise,’ she replied. ‘Goodbye, Inspector Colbeck.’
‘Goodbye, Miss Andrews. It was a pleasure to meet you.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I will see you again tomorrow,’ he said, relishing the thought. ‘I hope that you’ll forgive me if I arrive by Hansom cab.’
She gave him a faint smile before walking off up Whitehall. Colbeck stood for a moment to watch her then he went back into the building. As soon as the detective had disappeared, a figure stepped out from the doorway in which he had been hiding. He was a dark-eyed young man of medium height in an ill-fitting brown suit. Pulling his cap down, he set off in pursuit of Madeleine Andrews.
By the time he got back to The Black Dog, the fight had already started. Several people were involved and they had reached the stage of hurling chairs at each other or defending
themselves with a broken bottle. Brendan Mulryne did not hesitate. Hurling himself into the middle of the fray, he banged heads together, kicked one man in the groin and felled a second with an uppercut. But even he could not stop the brawl. When it spilt out into the street, he was carried along with it, flailing away with both fists and inflicting indiscriminate punishment.
Mulryne did not go unscathed. He took some heavy blows himself and the brick that was thrown at him opened a gash above his eye. Blood streamed down his face. It only served to enrage him and to make him more determined to flatten every man within reach. Roaring with anger, he punched, kicked, grappled, gouged and even sank his teeth into a forearm that was wrapped unwisely across his face. Well over a dozen people had been involved in the fracas but, apart from the Irishman, only three were left standing.
As he bore down on them, they took to their heels and Mulryne went after the trio, resolved to teach them to stay away from The Black Dog in future. One of them tripped and fell headlong. Mulryne was on him at once, heaving him to his feet and slamming him against a wall until he heard bones crack. The next moment, a length of iron pipe struck the back of Mulryne’s head and sent him to his knees. The two friends of the man who had fallen had come back to rescue him. Hurt by the blow, the Irishman had the presence of mind to roll over quickly so that he dodged a second murderous swipe.
He was on his feet in an instant, grabbing the pipe and wresting it from the man holding it. Mulryne used it to club him to the ground. When the second man started to belabour him, he tossed the pipe away, lifted his assailant up and
hurled him through a window. Yells of protest came from the occupants of the house. Dazed by the blow to his head and exhausted by the fight, Mulryne swayed unsteadily on his feet, both hands to his wounds to stem the bleeding. He did not even hear the sound of the police whistles.
Robert Colbeck sat in his office and reviewed the evidence with Victor Leeming. While no arrests had yet been made, they felt that they had a clear picture of how the robbery had taken place, and what help had been given to the gang responsible by employees in the Post Office and the lock industry. The Sergeant still believed that someone from the Royal Mint was implicated as well. Colbeck told him about the interview with Madeleine Andrews and how he had been able to still her fears.
‘The young lady was well-dressed for a railwayman’s daughter.’
‘Did you think that she’d be wearing rags and walking barefoot?’
‘She looked so neat and tidy, sir.’
‘Engine drivers are the best-paid men on the railway,’ said Colbeck, ‘and quite rightly. They have to be able to read, write and understand the mechanism of the locomotive. That’s why so many of them begin as fitters before becoming firemen. Caleb Andrews earns enough to bring up his daughter properly.’
‘I could tell from her voice that she’d had schooling.’
‘I think that she’s an intelligent woman.’
‘And a very fetching one,’ said Leeming with a grin.
‘She thought that you were a typical policeman, Victor.’
‘Is that good or bad, sir?’
Colbeck was tactful. ‘You’ll have to ask the young lady herself.’ There was a tap on the door. ‘Come in!’ he said.
The door opened and a policeman entered in uniform.
‘I was asked to give this to you, Inspector Colbeck,’ he said, handing over the envelope that he was carrying.
‘I’m told that it’s quite urgent. I’m to wait for a reply.’
‘Very well.’ Colbeck opened the envelope and read the note inside. He scrunched up the paper in his hand. ‘There’s no reply,’ he said. ‘I’ll come with you myself.’
‘Right, sir.’
‘Bad news, Inspector?’ wondered Leeming.
‘No, Victor,’ said Colbeck, smoothly. ‘A slight problem has arisen, that’s all. It will not take me long to sort it out. Excuse me.’
The only time that Brendan Mulryne had seen the inside of a police cell was when he had thrown the people he had arrested into one. It was different being on the other side of the law. When the door had slammed shut upon him, he was locked in a small, bare, cheerless room that was no more than a brick rectangle. The tiny window, high in the back wall, was simply a ventilation slit with thick iron bars in it. The place reeked of stale vomit and urine.
The bed was a hard wooden bench with no mattress or blankets. Sitting on the edge of it, Mulryne wished that his head would stop aching. His wounds had been tended, and the blood wiped from his face, but it was obvious that he had been in a fight. His craggy face was covered with cuts and abrasions, his knuckles were raw. His black eye and split lip would both take time to heal. It had been a savage brawl yet he was not sorry to have been in it. His only regret was that
he had been arrested as a result. It meant that he would lose money and leave The Black Dog unguarded for some time.