Death in the Tunnel (6 page)

“Cutting that out, then, two possibilities remain. The first is that Saxonby was murdered by Turner, the guard. He had plenty of opportunity, but no apparent motive. The second is, that the murderer was some other passenger in the coach, who returned quietly to his own compartment when the deed was done. And, in that case, you ought to be able to identify him. It seems that the only compartment with a single occupant was Saxonby's. By questioning the twenty-four passengers whose names you have, you will be able to find out if anybody left his seat before the train reached the tunnel, and returned to it afterwards.”

“I'm going to do that in any case, just as a precaution,” Arnold replied.

“Good. And, while you're on the subject of precautions, I wouldn't dismiss the tunnel altogether. I would see the driver and fireman of the train, and try to find out whether they really saw those lights or not. If they admit that they were mistaken, well and good. If not, I would search the tunnel myself.”

“Didn't I tell you that it has been searched already?”

Merrion shook his head. “Not really searched,” he said. “A party of men went through it, looking for a definite and easily noticeable object, a body. They wouldn't have been on the look-out for anything less conspicuous, such as a first-class railway ticket, for instance. And if they had, they would not have attached any particular importance to it. And, while you were about it, I should have a look at those signal boxes, and satisfy myself that they really do command the approaches to the tunnel as thoroughly as the station-master makes out. I'd always rather see a thing for myself than rely on somebody else's description of it.”

Arnold seemed impressed. “I dare say you're right,” he replied. “But if the tunnel is to be searched, it ought to be done as soon as possible. If I decide to do it, will you come with me?”

“And imperil my life in the cause of justice? All right, I don't mind.”

“Then I'd better get back to the Yard and see about it,” said Arnold.

VI

In the course of the following morning, Merrion was again rung up by the Inspector. “I've arranged with the company to see those railwaymen,” he said. “They're to meet me at Blackdown at two o'clock. If you like, we'll have a spot of lunch somewhere, and catch a train at Charing Cross about one o'clock.”

Merrion agreed to this readily enough. In spite of the overwhelming evidence in favour of it, he was bound to admit the possibility of a doubt that Sir Wilfred Saxonby had shot himself. As he had told Arnold, his own belief was that it had been a case of suicide. But belief was not proof, and until all doubt had been removed, suicide could not be accepted as a fact.

He met Arnold as arranged, and they travelled down to Blackdown together. The station-master, who had been instructed by the railway company to hold himself at Arnold's disposition, met them. “The driver and fireman have just arrived,” he said. “They are waiting in my office. Will you see them now?”

“Yes, I'll see them,” Arnold replied. “But one at a time, I think. I'll begin with the driver. What's his name?”

“Robert Prentice. He has been a driver for fifteen years, and is considered a very steady and reliable man. The fireman's name is Charles Haynes, another very steady chap.”

Arnold and Merrion installed themselves in the station-master's room, into which the driver was introduced. “Sit down, Prentice,” said Arnold. “I want to ask you a few questions. You were the driver of the five o'clock from Cannon Street on Thursday?”

“That's right, sir. I've been driving that train all the week.”

“And you slowed up the train in Blackdown Tunnel?”

The driver's face hardened. “I've already reported why, sir,” he replied.

“Yes, I know, and you've been disbelieved. Now, I'm going to be perfectly frank with you, and I'm sure you'll be the same with me. As no doubt you've seen in the papers, a passenger was found shot in the train when it arrived at Stourford. Well, there's reason to believe that the shot was fired in Blackdown Tunnel.”

“I saw about the accident, sir,” said Prentice. “But I didn't know it happened in the tunnel.”

“We believe it did. Now you'll understand why I wanted to talk to you. You reported having seen red and green lights in the tunnel. If you did, the person who showed those lights may have had something to do with the death of the passenger. But are you quite sure you saw them? If you aren't quite sure, say so, and nobody will blame you in the least.”

“I wasn't mistaken,” replied Prentice quietly. “I've been through the tunnel too often to imagine lights that aren't there. I saw a red light that changed to green, and I'll take my oath upon that.”

“Tell us exactly what you did see,” said Arnold.

“I entered the tunnel steaming hard, doing perhaps fifty miles an hour or a bit more. The signals were clear, and there are no more until you get beyond the tunnel on the other side. Often enough, if there's been an up train through just before, the tunnel is so full of smoke and steam that you can't see a flare till you're right on top of it. But on Thursday evening it wasn't so bad, quite clear in the tunnel, you might say, and there was nothing in the notices about men working in it. So I let her rip, giving a long whistle on entering the tunnel, according to regulations.

“I hadn't gone far, in fact I'd just taken my hand off the whistle, when I thought I saw a red light ahead of me. I shut off steam at once, although I didn't see how it could be a light. I thought it must be another train coming towards me, steaming hard, and that the blast had driven a red coal through the funnel. But there the light was, and it seemed to be moving. So I clapped on the brake, and called to my mate to look. He saw the light as plain as I did, and we both knew that something was up.

“Well, sir, you can't pull up a heavy train like you can a motor-car, and I thought we were for it. I couldn't judge how far off the light might be, and I was afraid we should be on top of it before we could stop. But it was farther away than I thought, and a very bright light it must have been for me to catch sight of it all that distance away. And as we got closer, I could see that it was swinging slowly from side to side, a foot or so above rail level, just as if somebody was holding it at arm's length and swinging it. But it was a brighter light than any railway lantern I've ever known. Or maybe it seemed bright to me because I was afraid of running into it before I could stop.”

“Did you form any idea of what the light could mean?” Arnold asked.

“I hadn't much time to form ideas, sir. My job was to get the train stopped. Something was amiss ahead, and there was the light to warn me. Well, sir, I managed to get the train in hand, and saw that I could pull up before I reached the light. And then, all at once, it changed to green, which means all clear, sir.”

“How far from the light were you when this happened?”

“It's hard to say, sir. Maybe a hundred yards. Rather more, perhaps, certainly not less. So I took off the brakes, and let the steam into the cylinders again.”

“Whereabout in the tunnel were you by this time?”

“Just about the middle, sir. I whistled to show that I'd seen the green light. And then I saw that the chap who was swinging it must have been standing between the up and the down lines.”

“Did you see the man himself?”

“No, sir, it was too dark for that. But the light was swinging between the two sets of rails, so the man must have been standing there. And he turned off his lantern altogether just before I reached him.”

“You mean that the green light disappeared?”

“That's right, sir. I tried to see the chap as I passed him, but my own steam was coming down round about the cab by then, and I couldn't see anything. And though my mate hollered, the chap didn't answer, or if he did we didn't hear him. And that's the truth, sir. It's no good telling me that there was nobody in the tunnel, for I know there was. Else how could those lights have been there?”

Arnold was evidently impressed by the driver's circumstantial description. “All right, Prentice, I believe you,” he said. “You might send Haynes in here, will you? I'd like to hear what he's got to say about it.”

The fireman confirmed his companion's story in every detail. Arnold did his best to find some discrepancy in the two accounts, but failed completely. Haynes was as ready to swear to the presence of the lights as Prentice had been. “And it seemed to me, sir, that the light didn't come from one of they ordinary lanterns,” he added.

“What made you think that?” Arnold asked.

“Well, you see, sir, the lights was too bright, for one thing. We must have been half a mile or more away from the red light when Bob shut off steam. When he first saw it, that was, you understand. And, though there wasn't as much steam in the tunnel as usual, it was still a bit hazy. You wouldn't see an ordinary lantern as far as that. And, for another thing, the light didn't seem to shine in one direction, like a lantern does. It showed all round, like.”

“And yet you couldn't see the man who was holding it?”

“No, sir, and that seemed queer to me at the time. For, if the light showed all round, it ought to have shone on him so that we could see him. At least, that's what I make out, sir.”

“And you make out quite right, it seems to me. All right, Haynes, that'll do. I'm much obliged to you.”

The fireman departed, and Arnold turned to Merrion. “Well, what do you make of it?” he asked.

“I don't know what to make of it,” Merrion replied. “Those two fellows are telling the truth, any one could see that. They couldn't have made up a yarn like that, and stuck to it under your cross-examination. The lights were there, right enough. But what were they there for, and who showed them? We've got to have a look inside that tunnel, I can see that.”

“Yes, and we've got to satisfy ourselves how much can really be seen from the signal-boxes. I've been having a look at the calendar. On Thursday the sun set at 4.11, and the moon didn't rise till after eight. The train entered the tunnel at half-past five, or very soon after. The man can't have got into the tunnel much after quarter past, if those chaps saw the lights about the middle of it. But it would be pretty dark by then. He must have managed to slip past one of the signal-boxes unobserved, whatever the station-master says.”

“It's a most extraordinary business, and I don't begin to understand it. Let's see your friend the station-master, and arrange for a personally conducted tour. But I'll admit that the prospect doesn't exactly fill me with rapture.”

The station-master, still sceptical, put them in charge of a ganger, and the three began to walk towards the northern end of the tunnel. The cutting leading to it began almost immediately beyond Blackdown Station, and ran through the solid chalk. The walls of the cutting were very nearly vertical, and would have afforded a precarious foothold, even to an experienced rock-climber in daylight. In the dark, the ascent or descent would have been impossible. And unless it was dark, any one attempting it would have been in full view from the platforms of Blackdown Station.

“If any one got into the tunnel from this end, they must have walked along the line from the station, the same as we are doing,” said Arnold. “Well, that wouldn't be impossible in the dark. But could they have got past the signal-box unobserved? That's the point.”

The signal-box, when they reached it, proved to be within a few yards of the entrance to the tunnel. The wall of the cutting had been recessed to receive it, and the box, which was fronted with glass, looked across to the opposite wall. The signalman, whom they visited, explained that at night both tracks were brightly illuminated by the lights within the box. He had himself been on duty from two to six in the afternoon on the previous Thursday. The evening had been clear, and the atmospheric conditions such that the entrance of the tunnel had been free from smoke. He was absolutely certain that nobody could have passed his box without being seen. Arnold and Merrion, seeing the conditions, were inclined to agree with him.

Then came the exploration of the tunnel itself. Up till now there had been a path beside the down line, which, though uncomfortably close to the trains as they roared past, still afforded a measure of safety. But, at the entrance of the tunnel, the path ended. Thence it was necessary to walk on the permanent way, keeping a sharp look-out for trains, taking to the down line if an up train was heard, and vice versa. Here and there within the tunnel were refuges, caves dug out of the wall in which the three of them could barely crouch. More than once they were forced to seek shelter in one of these, when both an up and down train approached them simultaneously.

The atmosphere was, in any case, positively suffocating, though the ganger assured them that conditions were exceptionally favourable. “Why, in some weathers you can't see a flare a dozen yards away,” he said. “It's tricky work then, I can tell you, gentlemen. You've got to keep your wits about you, for you know the drivers can't see you any more than you can see them. And as to breathing, you've got to take a mouthful of air when you can, and think yourself lucky to get that.”

They had a mild taste of this when a heavy goods train came through, steaming hard against the gradient. A torrent of red sparks poured from the funnel of the engine, and they understood Prentice's first supposition on seeing the red light. As the engine passed them, the whirl of disturbed air seemed to snatch them in an endeavour to drag them under the wheels. Then, immediately they were enveloped in a warm clinging murk of steam and sulphurous smoke. The hot cinders descended on the backs of their necks, the trucks roared and clanged past within a few inches of them. Not until the train had passed and the air had cleared a little did they venture to leave the refuge in which they had taken shelter.

Arnold and Merrion had provided themselves with powerful torches, with which they inspected the floor and sides of the tunnel. But the most careful search revealed nothing among the grime and cinders which covered everything but the rails themselves. They had asked the ganger to tell them when they reached the middle of the tunnel, but it seemed an age before he did so. And here their search became even more meticulous than before. Slowly they pursued their way, examining every square inch between the intervals of dodging the passing trains.

The ganger watched their persistence with an amused tolerance. “You're giving yourselves a lot of trouble for nothing, gentlemen,” he said. “I don't care what that driver and fireman say. There was nobody in the tunnel on Thursday evening, as I know well enough. Why, how could he have got in or out? You're seeing things for yourselves, now, and it ought to be as plain to you as it is to me.”

They were inclined to agree with him. And yet, unless some supernatural explanation could be imagined, how was the presence of the lights to be accounted for? That Prentice and Haynes had actually seen them, neither Arnold nor Merrion had any doubt, despite the incredulity of the local railwaymen.

Still they plodded on, and, as they did so, the atmosphere seemed to get worse, and the sulphurous fumes more suffocating. Merrion remarked upon this. “The air wasn't quite so bad just now,” he said. “And yet you say we're past the middle of the tunnel, where one would expect it to be at its worst. How do you account for that?”

“It's always so,” the ganger replied. “You see, there's a ventilating shaft about the middle. We're fifty or sixty yards beyond it now. The air will get worse again for a bit, then better as we get towards the southern end. Hallo, I believe your friend's found something. Look out, sir! That's the whistle of a down train coming.”

Arnold had devoted his attention to the down line, while Merrion had kept his directed on the up. At the ganger's warning, he hastily stepped across to the up line. “There's something there, between the rails,” he said. “Something that reflected the light of my torch. I distinctly saw it glitter. We'll have a look when this confounded train is past.”