Nothing upset Edward Tallis more than the murder of a policeman. As a superintendent at the Detective Department in Scotland Yard, he had devoted himself to law enforcement and felt personal grief whenever one of his officers was killed in the line of duty. Even though the latest victims had not been members of the Metropolitan Police Force, Tallis was consumed by a mingled sadness and fury. He waved the telegraph in the air.
‘I want this villain caught and caught quickly,’ he announced. ‘He has the blood of two policemen on his hands.’
‘We need more details,’ said Victor Leeming.
‘It’s up to you to find them, Sergeant.’
‘What exactly does the telegraph say?’
‘It says enough to get you off your backside and on the next train to Wolverhampton. Apart from anything else,’ said Tallis, ‘your help has been specifically requested by the London and North Western Railway. This has just arrived by messenger.’ He picked up a letter with his other hand. ‘They are mindful of the fact that we served them well in the past.’
‘That was Inspector Colbeck’s doing,’ argued Leeming.
Tallis bristled. ‘It was a joint effort,’ he insisted.
‘The superintendent is correct, Victor,’ said Colbeck, stepping in to rescue the sergeant from the ire of his superior. ‘Whatever we’ve achieved must be ascribed to the efficiency of this whole department. Cooperation is everything. No individual deserves to be singled out.’
Tallis was only partially mollified. It was a source of great irritation to him that he did not get the credit to which he felt he was entitled. Newspaper reports of their triumphs invariably picked out Inspector Robert Colbeck as their unrivalled hero. It was the Railway Detective who claimed all the attention. Tallis could only smoulder impotently in his shadow.
The three men were in the superintendent’s office, blissfully free from cigar smoke for once. Seated behind his desk, Tallis, a former soldier, was seething with outrage at the latest news. He wanted instant retribution. The detectives sat side by side in front of him. Leeming, always uneasy in the presence of the superintendent, wanted to leave at once. Colbeck pressed for more information.
‘Did the telegraph give the name of the escaped prisoner?’ he asked, politely.
‘No,’ snapped Tallis.
‘What about the letter from the LNWR?’
‘I think there was a mention in that — though, shamefully, the two murder victims were not named. The villain takes precedence over them, it seems.’ He put down the telegraph and looked at the letter. ‘Yes, here we are. The killer’s name is Oxley.’
Colbeck was stunned. ‘Would that be Jeremy Oxley, by any chance?’
‘No Christian name is given, Inspector.’
‘But it could be him.’
‘Presumably.’
‘Do you know the man?’ asked Leeming.
‘If it’s Jeremy Oxley, I know him extremely well,’ said Colbeck, ruefully. ‘And this will not be the first time that he’s committed a murder.’ He rose to his feet. ‘We must leave immediately, Victor. I have a copy of Bradshaw in my office. That will tell us which train we can catch.’ As Leeming got up from his chair, Colbeck turned to Tallis. ‘Is there anything else we need to know, Superintendent?’
‘Only that I’ll be watching you every inch of the way,’ said Tallis. ‘And so will the general public. They must not be allowed to think that anyone can kill a representative of law and order with impunity. I want to see Oxley dangling from the gallows.’
‘So do I,’ said Colbeck, teeth gritted. ‘So do I.’
Madeleine Andrews was working at her easel when she heard the familiar footsteps outside on the pavement. She was surprised that her father had returned so early and her first thought was that he might have been injured at work. Putting her brush aside, she rushed to open the door. When she saw that Andrews was apparently unharmed, she heaved a sigh of relief.
‘What are you doing home at this hour, Father?’ she asked.
‘If you let me in, I’ll tell you.’
Madeleine stood aside so that Andrews could step into the house. As she closed the door behind him, another fear surfaced.
‘You haven’t been dismissed, have you?’
He cackled. ‘They’d never dare to sack me, Maddy.’
‘Then why are you here?’
‘It’s because I was the driver of the death train.’
She gaped. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Sit down and you’ll hear the full story.’
Madeleine lowered herself into a chair but she had to wait while her father filled and lit his pipe. He puffed on it until the tobacco glowed and gave off a pleasing aroma.
‘What’s this about a death train?’ she asked.
‘Two policemen were murdered on it,’ he explained, taking a seat. ‘Not that I knew anything about it at the time. We picked them and their prisoner up at Wolverhampton station. Somewhere between there and Birmingham a shot was fired. Dirk Sowerby and I didn’t hear a thing above the roar of the engine, of course, but passengers in the next carriage did. They told the guard and he found blood all over the seat. There was a blood-covered coat in there as well.’
‘What about the policemen?’
‘They’d been thrown out of the carriage, Maddy.’
She recoiled at the thought. ‘Oh — how dreadful!’
‘It really upset Dirk.’
‘It upset both of you, I daresay.’
‘I’ve got a stronger stomach than my fireman,’ boasted Andrews. ‘And it’s not the first time a crime has been committed on one of my trains. That’s how we came to meet Inspector Colbeck in the first place, so you might say that I was seasoned.’
‘Your train was robbed and you were badly injured,’ recalled Madeleine, ‘but — thank God — nobody was actually killed on that occasion. Let’s go back to Wolverhampton. You say that you picked up two policemen and a prisoner.’
‘That’s right. He was handcuffed to one of the peelers. I saw them on the platform and pointed them out to Dirk.’
‘Was the prisoner a big strong man?’
‘Not really.’
‘Then how could he get the better of two policemen?’
‘That’s what we’ll have to decide.’
‘ We?’ she repeated.
‘Inspector Colbeck and me,’ he said, airily. ‘I’m a witness, so I’ll have to be involved. In fact, the investigation won’t get anywhere without me. What do you think of that, Maddy? Your father is going to be a detective in his own right. I’ll wager that the inspector will be tickled pink to work alongside me.’
Victor Leeming was so enthralled at the prospect of hearing the full story that he forgot all about his dislike of rail transport. He was a stocky man with the kind of unsightly features designed to unsettle rather than reassure anyone meeting him for the first time. Colbeck knew his true worth and — even though they differed markedly in appearance, manner and intelligence — they were a formidable team. The two of them had boarded a train at Euston and shared an empty carriage as it steamed off. Colbeck, an elegant dandy, was known for his aplomb yet he was now very animated.
‘It has to be Jeremy Oxley,’ he said, slapping his knee. ‘It’s too great a coincidence.’
‘Who is this man?’ asked Leeming.
‘He’s the reason I joined the police force.’
‘Yet you always say that you gave up your other work as a barrister because you only came along after a crime was committed. What you wanted to do was to prevent it happening in the first place.’
‘That’s true, Victor. When I was called to the bar, I had grandiose notions of making wonderful speeches about the need for justice as the bedrock of our society. I was soon robbed of that delusion. Being a barrister was not as lofty a profession as I’d imagined. To be frank, there were times when I felt as if I was taking part in a comic opera.’
‘How did you come across Oxley?’
‘He broke into a jewellery shop and collected quite a haul,’ said Colbeck. ‘When the owner of the premises chased him, Oxley shot the man dead in cold blood.’
‘Were there any witnesses?’
‘There were several.’
‘That was helpful.’
‘Alas, it was not. They lost their nerve when they received death threats from Oxley’s accomplice. Only one of them had the courage to identify him as the man who’d fired the fatal shot.’
‘Was he convicted on the strength of the evidence?’
‘Unfortunately, no — the case never came to court.’
‘Why not?’
‘He escaped from custody.’
Leeming sighed. ‘He’s an old hand at doing that, then.’
‘There was worse to come, Victor,’ said Colbeck, jaw tightening. ‘He hunted down the witness who was prepared to identify him and showed no mercy.’
‘He killed the man?’
‘The victim was a woman — Helen Millington.’
Colbeck spoke her name with a sorrow tinged with something more than mere affection. For a moment, his attention drifted and a distant look came into his eye. Old and very painful memories flitted across his mind. Leeming waited patiently until his friend was ready to continue.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Colbeck, making an effort to concentrate. ‘It’s just that it made a deep impression on me at the time. I was only a junior counsel in the case but it fell to me to persuade Miss Millington to come forward. In doing so,’ he added, biting his lip, ‘I inadvertently caused her death.’
‘You weren’t to know that Oxley would murder her, sir.’
‘Death threats had been sent.’
‘Yes, but that sort of thing happens all the time. Criminals will often try to scare a witness or a jury by issuing dire warnings. It doesn’t mean that they’ll actually carry out their threats.’
‘That’s what I keep telling myself but the guilt remains. I felt so helpless, Victor. She was a beautiful young woman in the prime of life. She didn’t deserve such a fate. I was desperate to avenge her death in some way, but what could I do as a barrister except make eloquent speeches in court?’ He took a deep breath and composed himself before continuing. ‘It was then I decided to join the fight against crime instead of simply dealing with its consequences.’
‘That was very brave of you, sir.’
‘The real bravery was shown by Helen Millington.’
‘What I meant was that you must have given up a good income to work for a lot less money.’
‘There are other kinds of rewards, Victor.’
‘Yes,’ said Leeming with a grin, ‘there’s nothing to touch the satisfaction of arresting a real villain and watching him get his punishment in court. You can’t buy something like that.’
‘It’s just as well. I don’t think we could afford it on police pay.’
They shared a laugh. Colbeck glanced through the window and realised that they were just passing Leighton Buzzard station. They were not far from the spot where Caleb Andrews had been tricked into stopping his train so that it could be boarded and robbed of the gold coin it was carrying. As a result of the robbery, during which Andrews had been wounded, Colbeck had first met Madeleine, the driver’s anguished daughter. What had started as a chance meeting had slowly matured into a friendship that had grown in intensity until it became a love match. He and Madeleine were now engaged to be married. Colbeck at last felt that his private world was complete. Thinking fondly of their future together, he let his thoughts dwell on her for a few luxurious minutes. As he pictured her face, however, and longed to see it again in the flesh, it was suddenly replaced in his mind’s eye by that of the equally lovely Helen Millington. Taken aback, Colbeck gave an involuntary start.
Leeming was worried. ‘Is something wrong, Inspector?’
‘No, no. I’m fine.’
‘You seemed to be miles away.’
‘Then I apologise. It was rude of me to ignore you.’
‘Tell me more about this Jeremy Oxley.’
‘His friends call him “Jerry” and he has a long criminal record. He’s a thief, confidence trickster and ruthless killer. Most of his victims have fallen for his charm. Oxley is very plausible.’
‘Let’s see how plausible he is at the end of a rope.’
‘We have to find him first, and that,’ conceded Colbeck, ‘will not be easy. He’s as slippery as an eel.’
‘So it seems. How would you describe him?’
‘He’s rather different from the villains we normally pursue. In fact, you wouldn’t take him for a criminal at all. Oxley, by all accounts, is good-looking, personable and educated. He has the talent to succeed in most professions. The tragedy is that he chose to make his living on the wrong side of the law.’
Leeming regarded him shrewdly. ‘Catching him means a lot to you, doesn’t it, sir?’
‘Yes, it does,’ admitted Colbeck. ‘I’ve been after him for years and this is the first time he’s crossed my path again. I’m going to make sure that it’s the last time as well. It’s a debt I have to pay to Helen Millington. This is not just another investigation to me, Victor,’ he stressed. ‘It’s a mission. I won’t rest until we have this devil in custody.’
It was several hours later but Irene’s hands were still shaking slightly. Oxley enfolded them in his own palms and held them tight.
‘You’re still trembling,’ he observed.
‘I can’t help it, Jerry. When I shot that policeman, I felt as cool as a cucumber. It was only afterwards that I realised what I’d done.’
‘Yes — you rescued me from disaster.’
‘I killed a man,’ she said with a shudder. ‘I never thought I’d be able to do that. I hoped that they’d release you when I pulled out the gun. It never crossed my mind that I’d have to pull the trigger.’
‘But you did, Irene,’ he said, kissing her on the forehead. ‘I knew that you wouldn’t let me down.’
She gave a shrug. ‘I love you. That’s why I did it.’
‘And because you did it — I love you.’
He squeezed her hands then sat back in his chair. They were in a public house in Stafford, sitting in a quiet corner where they could talk freely. Oxley had already changed his appearance so that any description of him would be misleading. He’d shaved off his neat moustache, combed his hair in a different way and put on a pair of spectacles with clear glass in them. He looked quite different. In the interests of evading suspicion, Irene had also made adjustments to her hair and to her clothing. Witnesses who saw her diving onto the train in Wolverhampton would not recognise her now. After calmly leaving the train at Birmingham, they had bought tickets to Stafford and travelled there in separate carriages. Nobody on the same journey would have connected them.
While Oxley was in a state of euphoria after his escape, she remained anxious and preoccupied. She took out a handkerchief and blew her nose. Looking up at him, her eyes were moist.
‘Was it like this for you, Jerry?’ she asked, nervously.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘The first time you killed someone. Did you have this terrible feeling in the pit of your stomach? Did your hands shake? Were you haunted by remorse?’
‘Not in the slightest,’ he said, coldly.
‘You must have had some regrets.’
‘I put them out of my mind.’
‘I can’t do that somehow. I keep seeing his face at the moment I actually shot him.’ She shook her head. ‘I just can’t believe I did that.’
‘Would you rather have seen me put on remand?’
‘No, no — I’d have hated that.’
‘Then you did the right thing.’
‘Did you feel that you did the right thing when you killed a man for the first time?’
‘Of course — he was foolish enough to chase me when I robbed his jewellery shop. It was the right thing to kill him and the right thing to kill her as well.’
She was shocked. ‘You killed a woman?’
‘She was going to bear witness against me.’
‘When was this — and how did you do it?’
‘That doesn’t matter,’ he said, dismissively. ‘It was a long time ago and I’ve put it all behind me. That’s what you must do. All I can tell you is that I felt proud.’
‘Proud?’ she echoed. ‘How can you be proud of taking a life?’
‘It showed I had the courage to do so. Most people don’t have that courage. They never know that sense of power you get. That’s what I had, Irene, and — when you get over the initial shock — you’ll enjoy remembering that same thrill as well.’
She was unconvinced. ‘I doubt that, Jerry.’
‘There’s nothing quite like it.’
They had been together almost a year now and it had been a very fruitful partnership. Her air of innocence and wholesomeness belied the fact that she was an accomplished thief and had long since abandoned any claim to respectability. Oxley had used her time and again to distract people while he stole things from their premises. As the more experienced criminal, he was able to teach her the tricks of the trade. Drawn ever closer to him, Irene became so besotted that she did not realise that Oxley was manipulating her emotions. She was utterly devoted to him. When his luck finally ran out and he was captured, all that she could think about was setting him free. Her audacious plan had worked. It had involved killing one man and helping to hurl a second one to his death, but her lover was back with her again. Irene just wished that she could relish his company instead of being assailed by regrets over what she’d done.
Taking her hands again, he looked deep into her eyes.
‘Are you happy, Irene?’
‘Of course I’m happy,’ she said, forcing a smile.
‘You don’t have to do this, you know. You’re under no compulsion. If you’d rather go your own way, we can part here and now. You’re not at my beck and call.’
‘But I want to be, Jerry.’
‘I sense that you’re getting cold feet.’
‘That’s not true,’ she asserted, sitting up straight. ‘I was a little troubled about it, that’s all. It’s past now. I feel much better, honestly. The only thing I want is to be with you.’
‘Then we have something in common,’ he said, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, ‘because the only thing I want is to be with you. Let’s find somewhere to spend the night, then I can tell you why.’
‘I thought we were going to Manchester.’
‘That can wait until tomorrow. Given what we did today, I think we’re entitled to celebrate.’
‘Yes, we are!’
‘Are you ready to be my wife for another night?’
Irene laughed. ‘I’m ready tonight and every night.’
They got up from their table and headed for the door. As they came out of the pub, they were elated. With Irene on his arm, Oxley strode purposefully along, distributing smiles to everyone he passed and making the most of his freedom. He then pulled Irene gently into an alleyway so that he could confide something to her.
‘Remember this, my love,’ he told her. ‘You didn’t shoot a human being on that train this morning.’
‘But I did, Jerry,’ she said, earnestly. ‘You saw me.’
‘All you killed was a policeman.’
‘So?’
Oxley beamed. ‘They don’t count.’