The Railway Detective Collection: The Railway Detective, the Excursion Train, the Railway Viaduct (The Railway Detective Series) (20 page)

It happened in broad daylight. Madeleine Andrews had just made her father comfortable in bed next morning when she heard a knock at the front door. She glanced through the bedroom window and saw a uniformed policeman below. Thinking that he might have brought more news, she hurried downstairs to open the door. The policeman, a bearded man with a polite manner, touched the brim of his hat.

‘Miss Madeleine Andrews?’ he inquired.

‘Yes.’

‘I have come with a request from Inspector Colbeck. He wonders if you could spare an hour to call on him at Scotland Yard.’

Madeleine was taken aback. ‘
Now
?’

‘I have a cab to take you there,’ said the other, ‘and it will bring you back to your house.’

‘Did the Inspector say why he wished to see me?’

‘No, Miss Andrews, but it must be a matter of some importance or he would not be summoning you like this.’ He made to leave. ‘I can see that it is not convenient. I’ll tell Inspector Colbeck that he will have to meet you another time.’

‘Wait,’ she said. ‘I can come with you. I just need to tell my father where I am going first. Please excuse me.’

‘Of course.’

Madeleine went back upstairs, explained the situation to her father and promised that she would not be long. She went quickly into her own bedroom to look at herself in the mirror and to adjust her clothing and hair. When she reappeared at the door, she was wearing a hat.

‘This way, Miss Andrews,’ said the policeman.

He escorted her to the waiting cab and helped her up into it. As soon as he sat beside her, however, his manner changed abruptly. One arm around Madeleine to restrain her, he used the other hand to cover her mouth with a handkerchief.

‘Do as you’re told,’ ordered Thomas Sholto, ‘or you’ll never see your precious Inspector Colbeck again.’

The cab was driven away at speed.

Arthur Jukes gave nothing away. No matter how much pressure they applied, the detectives could not get the answers that they required. They interrogated the other prisoners separately but with the same negative result. Vernon Seymour was openly defiant and his younger brother, Harry, boasted that they would not stay under lock and key for long. He seemed to have a naïve faith that someone would come to his rescue and confound the forces of law and order. When all three men were back in their cells, Robert Colbeck adjourned to his office with Victor Leeming. The Sergeant was not optimistic.

‘It’s like trying to get blood out of a stone,’ he moaned.

‘We need to be patient, Victor.’

‘We failed. I thought it was a brilliant idea of yours to let Mr Tallis loose on them but even he, with his military background, could not frighten them into revealing the name of their paymaster. Why are they so loyal to this man?’

‘I think it’s a combination of loyalty and fear,’ said Colbeck. ‘They know just how ruthless he can be. Even if they were not directly involved in the murders of William Ings and Daniel Slender, they would surely be aware of them.
If they betray their leader, they are afraid that they will be signing their own death warrants.’

‘But they are in police custody.’

‘I regret to admit it, Victor, but there are ways of getting to people even when they are in the most secure prisons. No,’ said Colbeck, ‘there’s little chance that any of them will volunteer the name that we seek. All that we can do is to remain calm, question them at intervals and hope that one of them makes a slip.’

‘Which one?’

‘Harry Seymour would be my choice. He’s the youngest.’

‘He’s convinced that he is about to be rescued.’

‘That proves my point. Whoever has been employing the three men has persuaded them that he is invincible, and that he has the power to get them out of any situation. In other words, he must be a man of considerable influence.’

‘Nobody is above the law,’ said Leeming.

‘This man obviously believes that he is.’

‘Where do we go from here, Inspector?’

Colbeck rested against the edge of his desk and pondered. Having caught the three men in the act of committing a heinous crime, he had hoped that they had taken a giant stride forward in the investigation but they had suddenly come to a halt. Evidently, Arthur Jukes and the Seymour brothers had been taught how to behave in the event of arrest. In taking them out of action, Colbeck and his men had performed a valuable service but the rest of the gang was at liberty and there was no simple way of identifying them. What was certain was that the failure of his plot to blow up the locomotives at the Crystal Palace would enrage the man who had set it in motion. Colbeck feared reprisals.

‘First, we must find out which regiment they served in,’ he said.

‘They refused to tell us.’

‘We have their names, Victor. It is only a question of checking the records. I leave that to you.’

‘Where do I start?’ asked Leeming, over-awed by the task.

‘With regiments that have served in India.’

‘India?’

‘You saw the complexion of those three men,’ said Colbeck. ‘They have clearly spent time in a hot country. Also, Harry Seymour made his first slip. The custody sergeant told me that he had the gall to ask when tiffin would be brought to his cell.’

‘Tiffin?’

‘It’s an Indian word for a midday meal.’

‘The bare-faced cheek of the man!’ said Leeming, angrily. ‘What does Harry Seymour expect – a dozen oysters and a pint of beer, with apple pie to follow? He’ll be asking for a butler next.’

‘My guess is that all three of them were in an infantry regiment. The brothers would certainly have served together and they treat Jukes with that mixture of jocularity and respect that soldiers reserve for a corporal or a sergeant. When people have been in the army for any length of time,’ observed Colbeck, ‘they can never entirely shake off its effects.’

‘You only have to look at Mr Tallis to see that.’

Colbeck smiled. ‘
Major
Tallis, please.’

‘Did
he
have any idea which regiment they might have been in?’

‘Not his own, anyway – the 6
^th
Dragoon Guards. None
of them would have lasted a week in that, according to the Superintendent. He had a very low opinion of them as soldiers.’

‘Someone obviously values their abilities.’

‘The most likely person,’ said Colbeck, ‘is an officer from the same regiment, someone whom they would instinctively obey. When you find where they served in India, make a list of any officers who have retired from their regiment in recent years.’

‘Yes, Inspector.’

‘After that, I have another assignment for you.’

Leeming grimaced. ‘I thought that you might.’

‘Visit all of the slaughterhouses within the London area,’ suggested Colbeck. ‘If Vernon Seymour used to work in one of them, they’ll remember him and might even provide an address.’

‘Regiments and slaughterhouses.’

‘That should keep you busy.’

‘This job never lacks for variety.’

‘The more we can find out about those three men, the better.’

‘What about Jukes? He’s the only one who has a wife and family.’

‘So?’

‘Should we not try to track them down, sir?’

‘No need of that, Victor. You saw the fellow earlier on. The one moment he looked vulnerable was when we touched on his marriage.’

‘Yes,’ recalled Leeming. ‘He obviously cares for his wife.’

‘Then she will doubtless love him in return,’ said Colbeck. ‘When he’s been missing long enough, she’ll become alarmed
and turn to us for help. All that we have to do is to wait.’

‘I’ll make a start with those regimental records.’

‘The Superintendent will be able to offer guidance. I daresay that he’ll reel some of the names straight off.’

‘I was banking on that, sir.’ He opened the door. ‘This may take me some time – well into tomorrow, probably. What about you, sir?’

‘Oh, I’ll be here for hours yet. It will be another late night for me.’

‘At least we do not have to spend it underneath a locomotive.’

Colbeck laughed and Leeming went out. Three nights without sleep were starting to take their toll on both of them but the Inspector drove himself on. There was no time to rest on his laurels. The man he was after was still in a position to make further strikes against railways and Colbeck was determined to get to him before he did so. Sitting behind his desk, he took out his notebook and went through all the details he had gathered during his interviews with the three prisoners. What stood out was the similarity of their denials. It was almost as if they had agreed what they were going to say even though they had deliberately been kept in separate cells. Someone had drilled them well.

An hour later, Colbeck was still bent over his desk, working by the light of the gas lamp that shed a golden circle around one end of the room. When there was a tap on the door, he did not at first hear it. A second and much louder knock made him look up.

‘Come in!’ he called. A clerk entered. ‘Yes?’

‘Someone wishes to see you, Inspector.’

Colbeck’s hopes rose. ‘A young lady, by any chance?’

‘No, sir. A man called Gideon Little.’

‘Did he say what he wanted?’

‘Only that it was a matter of the utmost importance.’

‘Show him in.’

The clerk went out and left Colbeck to speculate on the reason for the unexpected visit. He remembered that Little was the suitor whom Madeleine Andrews had chosen to turn down. Colbeck wondered if the man had come to blame him for the fact that he had been rejected, though he could not imagine why. As soon as he saw Gideon Little, however, he realised that his visitor had not come to tax him in any way. The man was hesitant and agitated. Dressed in his work clothes, he stepped into the room and looked nervously around it, patently unused to being in an office. Colbeck introduced himself and offered him a chair but Little refused. Taking a few tentative steps towards the desk, he looked appealingly into Colbeck’s eyes.

‘Where is she, Inspector?’ he bleated.

‘Who?’

‘Madeleine, of course. She came to see you.’

‘When?’

‘This morning.’

‘You are misinformed, Mr Little,’ said Colbeck, pleasantly. ‘The last time that I saw Miss Andrews was yesterday when I called at the house. What gave you the idea that she was here?’

‘You sent for her, sir.’

‘But I had no reason to do so.’

‘Then why did the policeman come to the house?’

‘He was not there on my account, I can promise you.’

‘Caleb swore that he was,’ said Little, anxiously.
‘Madeleine told him that she had to go out for a while to visit you but that she would not be too long. That was the last her father saw of her.’

Colbeck was disturbed. ‘What time would this have been?’

‘Shortly after eight.’

‘Then she’s been gone for the best part of the day.’

‘I only discovered that when I finished work, Inspector,’ said Little. ‘I stopped at the house on my way home and found Caleb in a dreadful state. It’s not like Madeleine to leave him alone for so long.’

‘You say that a policeman called?’ asked Colbeck, on his feet.

‘Yes, sir. A tall man with a dark beard.’

‘Did you actually
see
him?’

‘Only from the corner of the street,’ explained Little, suppressing the fact that he had been watching the house for the best part of an hour. ‘I was going past on my way to work when I noticed that Madeleine was getting into a cab with a policeman. They went off at quite a gallop as if they were eager to get somewhere, so I was curious.’

‘Is that why you went to the house and spoke to her father?’

‘Yes, I let myself in. The door was on the latch.’

‘And what did Mr Andrews tell you?’

‘That you wanted to see her at Scotland Yard and had sent a cab to bring her here.’ Gideon Little wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. ‘If he was not a policeman, who could that man be?’

‘I wish that I knew,’ said Colbeck, sharing his concern.

‘Do you think that she could have been kidnapped?’

‘I sincerely hope that that is not the case, Mr Little.’

‘Why else would she disappear for so long?’

‘Could she have visited relatives?’

‘I doubt it.’

‘Or called on friends, perhaps?’

‘Not when her father is stuck in bed all day like that,’ said Little. ‘Madeleine is very dutiful. She would never desert Caleb.’

‘No,’ said Colbeck, his brain spinning as he saw the implications of the news. ‘The only thing that would keep her away from home is that she is being held against her will.’

‘That’s our fear, Inspector. Find her for us – please!’

‘I’ll not rest until I’ve done so, Mr Little.’

‘I know that she’ll never be mine,’ said the other, quivering with apprehension. ‘Madeleine made that obvious. But she’ll always be very dear to me. I cannot bear the thought that she is in danger.’

‘Neither can I,’ admitted Colbeck, worried that he might somehow be responsible for her abduction. ‘Thank you for coming, Mr Little. I only wish that you’d been able to raise the alarm sooner.’

‘So do I, Inspector. What am I to tell Caleb?’

‘That we’ll do everything in our power to find his daughter. I will take personal charge of the search.’ He thought of the injured driver, stranded in his bedroom. ‘Is there anyone to look after him?’

‘A servant who comes in three days a week. She’s agreed to stay.’

‘Good,’ said Colbeck. ‘You get back to Mr Andrews and give him what support you can. I, meanwhile, will institute a search.’ He shook his head in consternation. ‘Taken away in a cab – wherever can she be?’

Madeleine Andrews was stricken with quiet terror. Locked in an attic room at the top of a house, she had no idea where she was or why she was being kept there. It had been a frightening ordeal. When the policeman had called for her, she had looked forward to seeing Robert Colbeck again and was so lost in pleasurable thoughts of him that she was caught off guard. Once inside the cab, she realised that she had been tricked. The man who overpowered her had slipped a bag over her head so that she could not even see where they were going. The last thing she recalled about Camden was the sound of a train steaming over the viaduct.

She cursed herself for being taken in so easily. The policeman’s voice had been far too cultured for an ordinary constable, and his manner too courteous. What had misled her was that he had behaved more like Colbeck than a typical policeman. That had appealed to her. His demeanour had changed the moment they were in the cab. He had threatened her with physical violence if she tried to resist or cry out, and Madeleine knew that he was prepared to carry out his threat. All that she could do was to submit and hope that she would somehow get out of her predicament.

The room was small and the ceiling low but the place was well-furnished. Under other circumstances, she might even have found it snug. There were bars across the window to discourage any hope of escape over the roof, and she had been warned that, if she dared to shout for help, she would be bound and gagged. Madeleine spared herself that indignity. A manservant had twice brought her meals in the course of the day and, on the second occasion, had lit the oil lamp for her. Though the food was good, she had little appetite for it.

Fearing for her own safety, she was also distressed on her
father’s behalf. He would be alarmed by her disappearance and, unable to stir from his bed, would be completely frustrated. Madeleine felt that she was letting him down. The other person about whom she was concerned was Robert Colbeck. During her abduction, she had been ordered to obey if she wished to see the Inspector again. Did that mean
his
life was in danger or merely her own? And how had the counterfeit policeman known that she was fond of Colbeck? It was baffling. As she flung herself down on the couch, she was tormented by one question.

What were they planning to do to her?

Sir Humphrey Gilzean believed in dining in style. When he was staying in London, therefore, he always made sure that his cook travelled with him from Berkshire. Over a delicious repast that evening, washed down with a superior wine, he mused on the ironic coincidence.