Peril on the Royal Train (16 page)

‘Ger oot of heer, ye fool!’ yelled Duncan.

‘Aye,’ said Ewen, gathering up his money from the table and thrusting it into his pocket. ‘I’ll meet up wi’ ye later.’

Dashing to the back door, he let himself out into the garden. Duncan chose a different mode of escape, running up the stairs and locking himself into his bedroom. The assault on the front door continued.

It was Colbeck who delivered the final kick. Aiming for the lock, he used his heel to jab at it as hard as he could. The lock gave way and the door swung open. As he rushed in, Colbeck saw that the back door was ajar.

‘One of them fled into the garden,’ he said. ‘Go and help the sergeant.’

‘What about you, sir?’

‘I heard footsteps on the upstairs.’

‘Don’t you want my assistance?’ asked McTurk.

‘No,’ said Colbeck, grimly, ‘he’s all mine.’

Ewen Usher didn’t get far. Moving the bolt on the garden gate, he expected to make his escape down the lane but someone was waiting for him. As he hurried out, he was tripped up by the outstretched leg of Victor Leeming. Falling heavily, Ewen hit the ground with a thud and unleashed a torrent of expletives. Before he could get up, he found himself held from behind in a vice-like grip. In spite of his power and the rage that fuelled it, he couldn’t dislodge his assailant. Leeming slowly increased the pressure until resistance began to fade. McTurk came lumbering through the garden door and took in the situation.

‘Can I be of assistance, Sergeant?’ he said.

‘Yes – help me to get the handcuffs on him.’

‘Which one of the brothers is this?’

Leeming grinned. ‘The one I just caught.’

Colbeck, meanwhile, was confronted by another locked door. Putting his hat aside, he used his shoulder against the timber. After the third blow, the door flew open to reveal an empty bedroom. There was nowhere to hide. The room contained little more than a bed, a chair and a wardrobe too small and rickety to conceal anyone. Covered in filth, the window was shut tight. Nobody had tried to climb through it. Colbeck soon realised where the fugitive had gone. What gave him away was the dust on the bed sheet. It had come down like snowfall when the trapdoor in the ceiling had been opened. Evidently, one of the brothers had clambered up there.

Colbeck went after him. Taking off his coat, he stood on the bed so that he could reach the trapdoor, pushing it up and disturbing another flurry of dust. He had to brush it out of his eyes. He then took a firm grip on the sides of the opening and hauled himself up into the roof space. Colbeck found himself in a long, black cavern that stretched in both directions over the adjoining houses. The fugitive might be anywhere. Colbeck waited until his eyes grew more accustomed to the dark. He could hear mice scuttling to and fro. More significantly, he could hear someone breathing.

‘I’d advise you to surrender, Mr Usher,’ he said.

There was no reply but someone moved slightly to his left.

‘I’m Inspector Colbeck of the Metropolitan Police Force and I’m acting on behalf of the Caledonian Railway. I believe that you can help me in my enquiries.’

Still no answer came but a vague shape was slowly emerging nearby. Before he could make it out properly, Colbeck was under attack. Duncan Usher flung himself at the inspector, knocking him backwards and going for his throat. As strong hands tightened around his neck, Colbeck had to fight for his life.

When they dragged him back into the house, Ewen Usher was still spitting with fury. Holding him by the scruff of his neck, McTurk forced him down into a chair then stood beside him with his hands on the man’s shoulders. Leeming was diverted by the commotion from above. He went quickly upstairs and stood in the open doorway of the front bedroom. Noise, dust and grunts of pain were coming from the roof space. He could hear the sounds of bodies rolling over and of heavy blows being exchanged. Wanting to go to Colbeck’s aid, he saw that it would be a difficult exercise. He was not as lithe and athletic as the inspector. Getting up into the roof space would take a real effort. Leeming was still wondering how to go about it when the problem was eliminated. Instead of waiting for assistance, Colbeck came down in search of it. There was a loud crash as the ceiling opened wide and two bodies hurtled down onto the bed in an avalanche of lath and plaster.

As they continued to fight, it was clear that Colbeck had the upper hand, grappling with his opponent before delivering a series of telling punches. Leeming stepped in to hold the groggy Duncan face down while Colbeck pulled back the man’s arms and snapped the handcuffs on him. Leeming yanked their prisoner to the floor and pinned him down with a foot in the middle of his back.

‘Thank you, Victor,’ said Colbeck, standing up.

‘His brother is waiting downstairs, sir.’

‘I hope that he was easier to catch than this one.’

When he stood up, Colbeck was covered in dust and grime. His hair was matted, his face was dirty and his immaculate clothing was smeared with the dust of decades. Leeming looked at the grubby trousers and the torn waistcoat.

‘And you had the gall to criticise
me
,’ he observed, dryly.

Inspector Rae was peevish. ‘Why wasn’t I informed?’ he demanded.

‘There was no time,’ replied Craig.

‘You knew where I was. Word should have been sent.’

‘Inspector Colbeck felt the need to take immediate action.’

‘Well, it should have involved me.’

‘That’s a matter of opinion.’

‘It’s a matter of fact, Mr Craig.’

They were in the general manager’s office and Rae had just been made aware of the latest development in the investigation. Like Craig, he was disgusted that McTurk had sought to use the information gleaned from the shepherd for his own advantage, ousting both Rae and Colbeck in the process and making them look inept. Spared that embarrassment, Rae had nevertheless been excluded. He was exasperated.

‘The villains are in custody,’ said Craig, ‘and that’s the salient point. Why quibble about rights of jurisdiction when the crime has been solved?’

‘We don’t know for certain that it has.’

‘These men are lifelong rogues.’

‘That doesn’t mean they caused a train crash,’ Rae contended. ‘Gunpowder was involved, remember. That can be very dangerous in the wrong hands. Did either of these brothers have experience in handling it?’

‘One of them must have, Inspector.’

‘I beg leave to doubt that. It’s a specialist skill.’

‘They are the culprits,’ said Craig irritably, ‘and it was Inspector Colbeck who captured them. The case is closed. I feel it in my bones.’

‘Then they’re misleading you, sir. I’ve been a detective too long to make hasty decisions. On the face of it, I agree, these men are worthy suspects but they’re no more than that. The evidence is not compelling. And even if they
are
guilty, proving it will present grave difficulties. If they’re the deep-dyed villains of report, they certainly won’t oblige us with a full confession.’

‘Colbeck will drag the truth out of them. They’ll be forced to admit that they were hired by the NBR to commit the outrage.’

‘Where are they being held?’

‘At the central police station – questioning will already be under way.’

Having delivered the brothers into custody, Colbeck took Leeming back to the hotel so that they could clean themselves up and change their clothes. When the two of them returned to the police station, the inspector was as elegant as ever and the sergeant was marginally less scruffy. One of the first things they’d learnt as detectives was that accomplices had to be kept apart so that they couldn’t rehearse an alibi or invent a persuasive story together. Ewen and Duncan Usher were therefore held in separate cells, each wondering what his brother would say under interrogation.

Since he’d arrested the older brother, Leeming was given the task of questioning Ewen. The interview took place in a featureless room with bars in the window. Leeming and the handcuffed prisoner sat either side of a table. Two uniformed policemen stood behind Ewen Usher. The door was locked. There was no possibility of escape. Notwithstanding this, the prisoner was not intimidated. He regarded Leeming with a smirk. The sergeant leant forward.

‘You know why you’re here, Mr Usher,’ he began.

‘I’ve no’ done anything wrong,’ claimed the other.

‘Then why did you try to run away?’

‘I’m innocent, I tell ye.’

‘Innocent people don’t assault a police officer,’ said Leeming, ‘and they don’t hurl vile abuse at him from that sewer you call a mouth. We have conclusive evidence that places you near a section of the Caledonian Railway where a dreadful crime took place.’

Ewen’s face darkened. ‘It’s a lie.’

‘You and your brother were seen by witnesses.’

‘Tha’s no’ true.’

‘One of them is the landlord of the inn where you stayed.’ Ewen shifted uneasily in his chair. ‘He got a very good look at you and his daughter remembers the names she overheard – Ewen and Duncan.’

‘It wasnae us.’

‘Who else could it have been?’ pressed Leeming. ‘You both arrived in a horse and cart with something tied under a tarpaulin? The landlord wouldn’t dream up a thing like that. Other people at that inn remember you well. The description they gave of you tallies in every detail. You were there on the night before you committed that horrible crime.’

Ewen stiffened. ‘What’re ye talking aboot, man?’

‘You know full well.’

‘It’s a pack o’ bleedin’ lies.’

‘You’re the liar, Mr Usher. Do you deny that you stayed at that inn?’

‘Aye, I do.’

‘And do you deny that you travelled with your brother in a horse and cart?’

‘Aye, I do!’ shouted Ewen.

‘Witnesses will be called in court to identify you,’ said Leeming. ‘What interests me is whether you were acting alone or whether you had some other accomplices. If there were others beside you, they deserve to share your appointment with the hangman.’

The prisoner blanched. ‘What’s this aboot a hangman?’

‘Murder carries the death penalty and what you did led to the death of three individuals. You created chaos. Who paid you to do it? Who told you to block the line so that the train would crash into it? Come on,’ said Leeming, ‘the game is up now. You might as well tell us the truth at last. Who was behind the disaster, Mr Usher?’

The prisoner had heard enough. Maddened by the accusation, he jumped up and launched himself across the table, butting Leeming hard in the chest and knocking him from his chair. As the sergeant struggled to push his attacker off, Ewen was overpowered by the two policemen and held tight. He continued to yell abuse at Leeming and to plead his innocence.

‘I’m no’ a killer!’ he howled in despair. ‘Duncan and me’ve never murdered a soul! I’ll swear it on the holy Bible. Ye must believe me!’

Colbeck adopted a different approach. Having heard from Leeming what had occurred during the first interview, he decided not to provoke Duncan Usher into a similar rage. More might be gained from a calm discussion. Though he used the same room, Colbeck had no policemen present. He and the prisoner were quite alone. Duncan glowered at him. He still bore the marks of Colbeck’s fists. There were livid bruises on his face and one eye was half-closed. What made the stabbing pain more intense was the fact that the inspector seemed to have come through the encounter unscathed. Still in handcuffs, he sat at the table. Colbeck took the seat opposite.

‘Does the name Lackey Paterson mean anything to you?’ he asked.

‘No,’ said Duncan.

‘Are you quite sure?’

‘Aye.’

‘What about the name of Jock Laidlaw?’

‘I’ve never heerd o’ the mahn.’

‘And I suppose you’ve never heard of Dougal Murray and Alan Grint either.’

Duncan frowned. ‘Who are these people?’

‘The last three were victims of a train crash on the Caledonian Railway.’

‘So? What’s tha’ to do wi’ me?’

He was more cautious and watchful than his brother. Taking care not to raise his voice, he answered the questions straightforwardly. Colbeck pressed on.

‘Let me take you back to Saturday night,’ he said.

‘Why?’

‘If you don’t mind, Mr Usher,
I’ll
ask the questions.’

Duncan glanced towards the door. ‘What’ve ye done wi’ my brother? I heerd Ewen shouting.’

‘You’re much too sensible to do that,’ said Colbeck, ‘because you know that you’ll gain far more by cooperation. Your brother denied everything. That was silly. We have reliable witnesses. Their evidence will stand up in court.’

He gave the prisoner time to absorb what he’d said. Duncan’s expression gave nothing away. He knew that he was in serious trouble and was careful to say nothing to make his predicament even worse.

‘Do you remember an inn called The Jolly Traveller?’

‘Aye, I do.’

‘Have you and your brother ever stayed there?’

‘Aye, we did – last Sat’day.’

‘Why did you drive all the way from Glasgow?’

‘We didnae do tha’. We took the train to Elvanfoot and hired the cart there.’

‘Why?’

‘Ewen and me’d heard tell how beautiful it was around there. We’d a mind to find out if it was true.’

‘Why not hire a trap? It would have been more comfortable than a cart.’

‘Aye, we found tha’ oot.’

‘The Jolly Traveller is some distance from Elvanfoot.’

‘We drove around for a long time.’

‘Did you buy anything on your way?’

Duncan drew back warily. ‘What do ye mean?’

‘The landlord of the inn claims that you had something on the back of your cart, hidden under a tarpaulin and roped tight.’

‘Aye,’ replied Duncan, easily, ‘it was a rocking chair we bought for our granny in Carstairs. There was a market in a village we went through.’

‘What was the name of the village?’