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Authors: Edward Marston

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Crime, #General, #Historical

Peril on the Royal Train (33 page)

BOOK: Peril on the Royal Train
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‘To business,’ said the Prince, briskly. ‘The commissioner has explained the situation to me and I’ll ask Inspector Colbeck the same question that I put to his superior. Can you guarantee our safety?’

Colbeck was honest. ‘Not at this stage, sir.’

‘Would you advise us to cancel our visit to Balmoral?’

‘Quite the reverse – I’d urge you to abide by the arrangements.’

‘I’m still not sure that
I
would,’ said Renwick.

‘Then we’d lose the chance to catch these people,’ argued Colbeck, ‘and they’d be free to launch a second attack elsewhere about which we have no foreknowledge.’

‘We’ve survived assassination attempts before,’ said the Prince.

‘Happily, you did, sir. But they were the work of lone individuals. We are dealing with a group of conspirators with money at their disposal and an ability to plan things with painstaking care.’

‘Do you know who they are?’

‘No – their identities remain a mystery.’

‘Have you made any headway at all in the investigation?’

‘It may not
seem
so, Your Royal Highness,’ conceded Colbeck, ‘but I have a strange feeling that we
are
making progress. That’s always a good sign.’

Colbeck gave him a brief account of events at the home of Patrick Scanlan and stressed that they now had good descriptions of the two men who’d hired the burglar to get hold of details of the royal train. He firmly believed that they’d find additional evidence when Scanlan’s safe was finally opened. Colbeck went on to say that he’d continue the search north of the border.

‘Our intention is to arrest these villains
before
the royal train even sets out on its journey to Balmoral.’

‘That would be the ideal outcome, of course,’ said the Prince, ‘but what happens if you fail? Should the excursion still go ahead?’

‘I believe so, Your Royal Highness.’

‘You advise it even if we may be put in jeopardy as a result?’

‘It’s the only way to bring these people out into the open,’ said Colbeck. ‘And there’s a compromise that will remove any direct threat to the royal family. When Mr Renwick showed me the itinerary, I noted that there was a lengthy stop at Carlisle. The royal party can alight there and the train can continue without them.’

‘That would put the driver, fireman and guard at risk,’ protested Renwick. ‘You could be sending them to their deaths.’

‘If the conspirators don’t see the train coming, they won’t show their hand. By that stage, I’m confident, we will have a good idea of where they mean to strike and can move in to overpower them. The train can then return to Carlisle to pick up its passengers and will continue unhindered on its way.’


I
wouldn’t like to be on that footplate, I know that much.’

‘Well, I’d be very willing to offer my services as a fireman,’ said Colbeck with a grin. ‘In fact, I’d find the idea very appealing.’

‘It conjures up an amusing picture, Inspector,’ said the Prince, ‘but you’re far more use to us solving a crime than shovelling coal into the firebox.’ He paused to consider what had been said then gave a decisive nod. ‘I’ll have to discuss this matter with the Queen.’

‘Is Her Majesty fully aware of the situation?’

‘Oh, yes, I keep nothing from her.’

‘May I ask what her initial reaction was?’

‘It was the same as mine,’ replied the Prince. ‘We both trust you, Inspector, and were ready to put ourselves in your hands. In the light of what you’ve told me, however, that decision may need to be reviewed.’

‘I can understand that, Your Royal Highness.’

‘The commissioner has promised to remain in constant touch.’

‘Sir Richard will report any progress that we make.’

‘I’d like notice of that as well,’ said Renwick. ‘It might stop this feeling of dread that’s trying to overwhelm me. The fact is that the royal party will be travelling on the LNWR. We don’t want it to be a prelude to disaster.’

‘The attack will come on the Caledonian,’ Colbeck reminded him.

‘That puzzled me,’ said the Prince. ‘Why have they chosen
that
railway?’

It was something that still puzzled Colbeck and he readily admitted it.

‘We don’t yet know,’ he said, ‘but we’re determined to find out.’

 

 

Even though it had been in existence for a number of years, Victor Leeming was still amazed at the efficiency of the telegraph system. Messages that would once have taken over a day to reach different parts of the country could now be transmitted within minutes. Colbeck’s telegraph to Wolverhampton elicited a prompt response. Word came that a locksmith from the Chubb factory was on his way to London. When the man eventually arrived at Scotland Yard, Leeming was there to welcome him.

‘I’ll take you to the house at once,’ he offered.

‘Good,’ said Wilfred Hounsell.

‘Did you have a comfortable journey?’

‘No, I didn’t.’

‘Why was that?’

‘I hate railways.’

Sensing that he’d met a kindred spirit, Leeming hustled him out and hailed a cab. Hounsell was a short, thin ferret of a man in his fifties with a long nose and darting eyes. He looked more like a burglar than a man whose job was to defy the criminal fraternity. It was clear that he hadn’t been taking elocution lessons from Balthasar Goodfellow. Out of his mouth came the deep, rich, unadulterated sound of a typical Black Country accent. Leeming warmed to him even more.

‘What’s in the safe?’ asked Hounsell.

‘We don’t know.’

‘Why is it so important to find out?’

‘We’re looking for evidence, Mr Hounsell.’

‘Oh, I see.’

‘You could be helping us to solve a crime.’

‘Ah.’

Hounsell was singularly unimpressed by the news. He seemed more worried about the discomfort of the return journey to Wolverhampton than he was about a police investigation. Leeming saw no reason to give him details of the murder that had occurred. The locksmith was there simply to do a specific task.

The cab deposited them outside Scanlan’s house and Leeming introduced himself to the uniformed policeman standing outside it. When the two men went inside, Hounsell showed no interest in the bloodstained carpet. All that he wanted to see was the safe. Leeming lifted the painting off the wall.

‘There it is, Mr Hounsell,’ he said. ‘Open it.’

‘It’s not as easy as that, Sergeant.’

‘Don’t you have a key?’

‘I have a number of them but this safe also has a combination lock. Why don’t you give me a few minutes alone? I’ll call you when it’s ready.’

Opening the little bag that he carried, Hounsell took out a ring on which a selection of master keys dangled. Leeming left him to it and went outside to talk to the policeman. Since he knew that Ned Layne would now be a target, he asked if anyone had come in search of him. The policeman reported that two men had been looking at the house with some interest but that his presence had kept them at bay. The description he gave of them tallied with that of the two visitors given by Layne. The danger to the servant was real. Leeming resolved to point that out to the prisoner.

He chatted to the policeman for some while before he heard a shout from indoors. Leeming went hastily into the house and entered the drawing room. He was dismayed to see that the safe was still closed.

‘Weren’t you able to open it?’ he asked.

Hounsell was indignant. ‘I know my trade, Sergeant.’

‘Then why is it still shut?’

‘I thought I’d leave you to open it,’ said Hounsell. ‘I’ve no interest in what’s inside. The man who bought this safe chose well. What was his name?’

‘He was Alfred Penn when he lived here.’

Hounsell chuckled. ‘Penn, eh?’

‘What’s so funny about that?’

‘It’s a place near Wolverhampton. I was married in the parish church.’

Leeming could now see why Scanlan had used the name as an alias. He expected to find documents in the safe relating to other aliases used by the cracksman. But what he was really after was some indication of who’d employed Scanlan to enter Renwick’s house. His expectations soared. Grabbing the handle of the safe, he twisted it and pulled open the heavy steel door. When he peered inside, however, he groaned in disappointment. The safe was completely empty.

Hounsell was outspoken. ‘You’ve wasted my bleeding time, Sergeant.’

 

 

Nairn Craig was having another bad day. He was in the middle of wading through a pile of compensation claims from angry businessmen when Inspector Rae called in to add to his discomfort. Rejoicing in Colbeck’s disappearance, he saw it as a case of a wounded enemy withdrawing from the field of battle because victory was impossible. It not only meant that Rae’s investigation could continue without a rival, it gave him ammunition to use against the careworn general manager.

‘How will you justify the expense to your board?’ he asked, smirking.

‘That’s my business, Inspector.’

‘I’m inclined to think that it’s
their
business as well. The crash has been very costly for the Caledonian. Your colleagues will resent wasting so much additional money on the fabled Railway Detective. Why, they will demand, did you put them in the most expensive hotel in Glasgow?’

‘They were entitled to some comfort.’

‘Only if they earned it and that – demonstrably – they did not do. Colbeck has failed at last, Mr Craig, and you must take responsibility for funding what can only be described as a doomed enterprise.’

Craig fought back. ‘Your investigation is equally doomed,’ he said. ‘You created a lot of sound and fury but little else. You still have no prime suspect.’

‘I’m still here,’ emphasised Rae. ‘Colbeck is not. My inquiry will blossom very soon. Colbeck’s has already withered on the vine. Why is he hiding away in London? One can’t solve a crime at long distance.’

‘Don’t make false assumptions about him.’

Rae’s eyelids narrowed. ‘You say that as if you know something that I don’t,’ he challenged. ‘Are you party to information that should be shared with me?’

‘No,’ said Craig, forcefully.

‘I hope, for your sake, that that’s true.’

Rae continued to bait the general manager but the ordeal didn’t continue for long. There was a knock on the door and John Mudie entered with a telegraph.

‘This has just arrived, sir,’ he said, handing it to Craig.

‘Thank you.’

‘I think you’ll find it cheering news.’

When Craig read the telegraph, his face was suddenly split by a grin.

‘Inspector Colbeck hasn’t quit the field at all,’ he said. ‘He’ll soon be back in Glasgow to continue the search.’

‘It will be as futile as his first attempt,’ snapped Rae.

‘I’d still back him over you, Inspector.’

‘Does that mean you’d pay his expenses out of your own pocket?’

‘Yes, I would,’ said Craig, goaded into making the commitment. ‘He and the sergeant can stay at any hotel in the city and I’ll gladly pay the bill.’

‘Then you’re about to make an extremely expensive mistake.’

On that spiteful note, Rae rose to his feet and swept out of the room.

‘Thank you for coming to my rescue, John,’ said Craig, flopping back into his chair. ‘And thank you for bringing me the news about Colbeck. It enabled me to shake Inspector Rae off my back. He was insufferable.’

‘There’s other news to pass on,’ said Mudie.

‘What is it?’

‘You have another visitor. He came in search of Inspector Colbeck. When I told him the inspector wasn’t here, he insisted on speaking to you instead.’

‘Who is he?’

‘He’s a young shepherd by the name of Jamie Farr. He’s been here before.’

‘Indeed, he has,’ said Craig, roused by the information. ‘He was very helpful. Send him in, John. I want to hear what the lad has to say.’

 

 

On the following morning, they caught the early train to Glasgow. Though he braced himself for a punishing journey, Leeming knew very little about it at the outset. Almost as soon as the train left Euston, he fell asleep and didn’t wake up until they were steaming into Birmingham. Coming awake with a start, he saw that Colbeck had been writing something in his notebook.

‘Ah,’ said the inspector, ‘you’re back in the land of the living.’

Leeming wiped the sleep from his eyes. ‘I was tired, sir.’

‘Then you did the right thing. You had a refreshing nap and you were spared the discomfort you always feel on a train.’

‘I’m not the only one. Hounsell despises them as much as I do.’

‘Was he the locksmith from Wolverhampton?’

‘Yes,’ replied Leeming, ‘and he was very annoyed that he had to suffer two train journeys in order to open an empty safe.’

‘There was always the possibility that it
would
be empty,’ said Colbeck. ‘Whoever killed him must have rifled the safe before he left.’

‘How could he open it without the key and the combination?’

‘I daresay that he got Scanlan to open it for him.’

‘Do you mean that he forced him to do it?’

‘That wasn’t necessary, Victor. There’s a very easy way to make someone open a safe.’

‘Is there?’

‘Of course,’ said Colbeck. ‘You give him a large amount of money. His first instinct is to lock it away. That’s what must have happened at Scanlan’s house. We know that he was expecting the rest of the money owed to him. Once it was handed over, he opened the safe to put it inside and was attacked. With Scanlan dead on the floor, all that the killer had to do was to steal everything that was in the safe and lock it behind him.’

‘They left us nothing in the way of a clue,’ said Leeming, bitterly. ‘Ned Layne told us that there was a lot of money in that safe. It’s all gone.’

‘Yes, Victor, it’s helping to fund the attack on the royal train. Not that the villains are short of money,’ he added. ‘They appear to have unlimited amounts.’

‘Where does it come from?’

‘I wish I knew.’

Four passengers joined them at Birmingham so they no longer had the freedom to discuss the case in an empty compartment. Colbeck studied his ordnance survey map and Leeming picked up the newspaper they’d bought from the station bookstall. When he read the report of the murder, he was pleased to see that the victim was referred to as Alfred Penn. His real name would emerge later. For the time being, Mary Burnell and her parents were kept ignorant of it. Any delay would be valuable. It would help them to adjust to the horror of Scanlan’s death before they learnt the brutal truth about the man they all revered.

BOOK: Peril on the Royal Train
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