The Excursion Train (29 page)

‘Kathy is nothing to do with this,’ insisted Newman.

‘Then why did she ride to Ashford to warn you?’ asked Colbeck. ‘Sergeant Leeming saw her from the train. Your foreman told me that a young woman with red hair came for you in the boiler shop.’ He saw Newman eyeing the open door. ‘And before you decide to bolt again, I should warn you that the Sergeant is outside with Constable Butterkiss.’

Kathleen was dazed. ‘How did you get here so quickly?’

‘By train.’

‘And you heard us through the window?’

‘I’d worked out some of it beforehand,’ said Colbeck. ‘Once I knew that Nathan Hawkshaw could not possibly have committed that crime, it narrowed the search down. The one thing I would like clarified is what happened to Hawkshaw’s coat.’

‘Gregory stole it,’ said Kathleen.

‘Be quiet!’ he snapped.

‘I think I can guess the circumstances in which it was taken,’ said Colbeck, seizing on the detail. ‘It was lying there with the rest of his clothing, wasn’t it – and with the meat cleaver that he’d brought?’

‘How did you know about that?’ asked Kathleen, open- mouthed.

‘I think you’ll be surprised what we know, Miss Brennan.’ He produced the handcuffs again. ‘We’ll spare you the indignity of these,’ he said, ‘but Mr newman is another matter. Shall we, sir?’

Gregory Newman heaved a massive sigh and held out his wrists. As soon as Colbeck tried to put the handcuffs on him, however, he pushed the Inspector away, grabbed Kathleen
by the hand and ran through the door. Constable Butterkiss tried to stop him but was buffeted aside by a powerful arm. Newman ran to his cart and lifted Kathleen up into the seat, intending to whip the horse into a gallop and get free. But he became aware of an insurmountable problem.

‘We took the liberty of taking your horse out of the shafts,’ said Colbeck, pointing to where the animal was grazing happily, ‘in case you tried to escape.’ Newman leant over to grab his bag from the back of the cart and thrust his hand into it. ‘I also took the precaution of removing this,’ said Colbeck, taking out the revolver from beneath his coat. ‘Unlike you, I know how to fire it properly.’ Newman slumped forward in his seat. ‘Are you ready for these handcuffs now, sir?’

They had never seen Superintendent Tallis in such a euphoric mood. He normally smoked cigars in times of stress but this time he reached for one by way of celebration. Colbeck and Leeming stood in his office at Scotland Yard and basked in his approval for once. Cigar smoke curled around their heads like a pair of haloes.

‘It was a triumph, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘You not only solved two murders that occurred on trains, you exonerated Nathan Hawkshaw from a crime that he didn’t commit.’

‘Too late in the day,’ said Leeming. ‘He’d already been hanged.’

‘That fact has caused considerable embarrassment to the parties involved and I applaud that. Where a miscarriage of justice has taken place, it deserves to be exposed. It will be a different matter for that monster, Gregory Newman.’

‘Yes, sir. He’s as guilty as sin.’

‘So is that she-devil who helped him,’ said Tallis, thrusting
the cigar back between his teeth. ‘They may have disposed of one hangman but there’ll be another to make them dance at the end of a rope. When I was a boy,’ he went on, nostalgically, ‘over two hundred offences bore the death penalty and it frightened people into a more law-abiding attitude. Only traitors and killers can be executed now. I maintain that the shadow of the noose should hang over more crimes.’

‘I disagree, Superintendent,’ said Colbeck. ‘To hang someone for stealing a loaf of bread because his family is starving is barbaric in my view. It breeds hatred of the law instead of respect. Newman and his accomplice deserve to hang. Common thieves do not.’

Tallis was almost jovial. ‘I’ll not argue with you, Inspector,’ he said, ‘especially on a day like this. I know that you’ll win any debate like the silver-tongued barrister you once were. But I hold to my point. To impose order and discipline, we must be ruthless.’

‘I prefer a combination of firmness and discretion, sir.’

‘That’s the way we solved the railway murders,’ said Leeming.

‘Yes,’ said Colbeck with amusement. ‘Victor was firm and I was discreet. We made an effective team.’

Colbeck’s discretion had been shown in abundance. He tried to protect those who would be hurt by certain revelations. Though he told the Sergeant about his long interview with Emily Hawkshaw, he had suppressed the facts that he knew would scandalise him. Edward Tallis had been told nothing about the relationship between the girl and her late stepfather. Colbeck had not deemed it necessary. The evidence to convict Gregory Newman and Kathleen Brennan was irresistible. There was no need to release intimate details that would be
seized on by the press and turn an already unhappy home into an unendurable one.

‘How did the widow receive the news?’ asked Tallis.

‘Mrs Hawkshaw was in a state of confusion, sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘She was delighted that her husband’s name had been cleared but she was shocked that Gregory Newman was unmasked as the killer and the man who sent those death threats. She had trusted him so completely.’

‘He must have hated her to let her husband die in his place.’

‘I think that he loved her, sir, and felt that Hawkshaw was unworthy of her. In his own twisted way, he thought that he could please her by killing two of the people who had inflicted needless pain on her husband. Yes,’ he said, anticipating an interruption, ‘I know that there’s a contradiction there. How can a man allow someone to go to the gallows in his stead and then avenge him? But it was not a contradiction that troubled Gregory Newman.’

‘His life was full of contradictions,’ said Leeming. ‘He pretends to care for his wife and yet he goes off to see Kathleen Brennan whenever he can. What kind of marriage is that?’

‘One that imposed immense strain on him, Victor.’

‘You’re surely not excusing him, are you?’ asked Tallis. ‘I’m no proponent of marriage, as you know, but I do place great emphasis on sexual propriety. In my opinion, Newman’s relationship with his scarlet women is in itself worthy of hanging.’

‘Then there’d be daily executions held in every town,’ said Colbeck, bluntly, ‘for there must be thousands of men who enjoy such liaisons. If you make adultery a capital offence, sir, you’d reduce the population of London quite markedly.’ Tallis
bridled. ‘No, the problem with Gregory Newman was that he had too much love inside him.’

‘Love! Is that what you call it, Inspector?’

‘Yes. He was a man of deep passion. When his young wife was taken so tragically ill, that passion was stifled until it began to turn sour. We saw it again in his strange devotion to Win Hawkshaw. We did, Superintendent,’ he went on as Tallis scowled. ‘He cared for her enough to want to rescue her from an undeserving husband even if it meant sending that husband to the scaffold. Love turned sour is like a disease.’

‘It infected him and his doxy,’ said Tallis. ‘If I had my way, she’d be paraded through the streets so that all could see her shame. The woman deserves to be tarred and feathered.’

Colbeck was glad that he had not confided details of the more serious irregularity that he had uncovered. The Superintendent would have been outraged, insisting on the arrest of Emily Hawkshaw on a charge of withholding vital evidence at the trial of her stepfather. Colbeck saw no gain in such an action. The girl had already punished herself far more than the law would be able to do. Before he left Ashford, she had confided one piece of reassuring news to Colbeck. She was not pregnant. No child would come forth from her illicit union to make her shame public. Colbeck had left the girl to work out her own salvation. Thoroughly chastened by all that had happened, she seemed ready to take a more positive attitude to past misdemeanours.

‘The rest,’ declared Tallis, ‘we can safely leave to the court.’

‘That’s what everyone felt at Hawkshaw’s trial,’ said Leeming.

‘Don’t be impertinent, Sergeant.’

‘No, sir.’

‘Our work is done and – thanks to you, gentlemen – it was done extremely well. I congratulate you both and will commend you in my report to the Commissioners. You have cleansed Ashford of its fiends.’

‘We did get some assistance from Constable Butterkiss,’ remarked Leeming, ready to give the man his due. ‘He found Amos Lockyer for us.’

‘That reflects well on him.’

‘Yes,’ said Colbeck, smiling inwardly as he thought of Madeleine Andrews, ‘our success is not solely due to our own efforts, sir. We had invaluable help from other sources.’

The last bit of paint was still drying on the paper when she heard the sound of the hansom cab in the street outside. Madeleine Andrews was flustered. Certain that Robert Colbeck had come to see her, she was upset to be caught in her old clothes and with paint all over her fingers. She grabbed the painting and hid it quickly in the kitchen, swilling her hands in a bucket of water and wiping them in an old cloth. There was a knock on the front door. After adjusting her hair in the mirror, Madeleine opened the door to her visitor. He was holding a posy of flowers.

‘Robert!’ she said, pretending surprise.

‘Hello, Madeleine,’ he said, ‘I just wanted to thank you for the help that you gave us and to offer this small token of my gratitude.’

‘They’re beautiful!’ she said, taking the posy and sniffing the petals. ‘Thank you so much.’

‘You deserve a whole garden of flowers for what you did.’

‘I’m so glad that I could help. But you are the only true
Railway Detective. You are on the front page of the newspaper once again.’

‘Yes, Superintendent Tallis was pleased with that. He feels that our success should be given wide publicity to deter other criminals.’

‘He’s right.’

‘I have my doubts, Madeleine. It only serves to warn them to be more careful in future. If we reveal too much about our methods of detection in newspaper articles, we are actually helping the underworld.’

‘Be that as it may,’ she said, ‘won’t you come in?’

‘Only for a moment.’ He stepped into the house and she closed the door behind them. ‘I’m on my way to Bethnal Green to honour a promise I made to Victor Leeming.’

‘Oh, yes. You told me that he was set upon at the Seven Stars.’

‘That’s why I’m letting him lead the raid. I’ll only be there in a nominal capacity. We’re going to close the place down for a time by revoking the landlord’s licence.’

‘On what grounds?’

‘Serving under-age customers, harbouring fugitives, running a disorderly house. We’ll think up plenty of reasons to close the doors on the Seven Stars. And however random they may seem,’ he went on, ‘I can assure you that those reasons will all have a solid foundation. In his brief and bruising visit there, Victor noticed a number of violations of the licensing laws.’

‘And that’s where Jacob Guttridge used to go?’

‘Only when disguised under a false name.’

‘Who was the man who followed him that night?’

‘Amos Lockyer,’ he replied. ‘A policeman from Ashford who was dismissed for being drunk on duty and who took
on the commission to make some money. In fairness to him, it never crossed his mind that such dire consequences would result from his work.’

‘I’m thrilled that I was able to help you.’

‘It will encourage me to call on you again, perhaps.’

Madeleine beamed. ‘I’m at your service, Inspector,’ she said. ‘But while you’re here, I have a present for you – though it isn’t quite dry yet.’

‘A present for me?’

‘Close your eyes, Robert.’

‘You’re the one who deserves a present,’ he said, closing his eyes and wondering what she was going to give him. ‘How long must I wait?’

‘Only a moment.’ She took the posy into the kitchen and returned with the painting. Madeleine held it up in front of him. ‘You can look now, Robert.’

‘Good heavens! It’s the
Lord of the Isles
.’

‘I knew that you’d recognise it.’

‘There are two things you can rely on me to recognise, Madeleine. One is a famous locomotive in all its glory.’

‘What’s the other?’

‘Artistic merit,’ he said, scrutinising every detail. ‘This really is a fine piece of work. Quite the best thing you’ve ever done.’

‘Then you’ll accept it?’

‘I’ll do more than that, Madeleine. I’ll have it framed and hung over the desk in my study. Then I’ll invite you and your father to come to tea one Sunday and view it in position.’

‘That would be wonderful!’

Madeleine had never been to Colbeck’s house before and she felt that the invitation marked a step forward in their relationship. He had been careful to include her father but she
knew that he was giving her a small but important signal. Her own signal was contained in the painting and he could not have been more appreciative.

‘Thank you, thank you,’ he said, unable to take his eyes off the gift. ‘It’s quite inspiring.’

‘Father was very critical,’ she said.

‘He is inclined to be censorious. I find no fault in it at all.’

‘It was my choice of locomotive that upset him. Mr Gooch built the
Lord
of the Isles
for the Great Western Railway. Since he works for another railway company, Father thinks that I should have done a painting of one of their locomotives.’

‘Mr Crampton’s
Liverpool
, for instance? A splendid steam engine. That was built for the London and North Western Railway.’

‘
Lord of the Isles
has a special place in my heart,’ she said. ‘As I was painting it, I recalled that magical day we spent together at the Great Exhibition. That’s when I first saw it on display.’

‘I, too, have the fondest memories of that occasion,’ he told her, looking across at her with affection. ‘When the painting has been hung, bring your father to take a second look at it.’ He gave her a warm smile. ‘Perhaps we can persuade him that you did make the right choice.’

It was the clearest signal of all. Madeleine laughed with joy.

E
DWARD
M
ARSTON
was born and brought up in South Wales. A full-time writer for over thirty years, he has worked in radio, film, television and the theatre and is a former Chairman of the Crime Writers’ Association. Prolific and highly successful, he is equally at home writing children’s books or literary criticism, plays or biographies.

www.edwardmarston com