Having taken a train to Euston, they hired two cabs to convey them to Trafalgar Square. It was carpeted by pigeons whose strutting boldness amazed Irene. Instead of taking to the air as she approached, they simply dodged her feet and continued to hunt for food on the paved slabs. One even perched on the knee of a beggar as he lay propped in a stupor up against a wall. Younger and his wife had visited the square too often to be overwhelmed by its scale and magnificence. Oxley, too, had seen it many times and was once again assessing the opportunities afforded to pickpockets by people gazing fixedly up at Horatio Nelson and therefore off guard. To Irene, however, the whole area was a thing of wonder and she was mesmerised by the fluted Corinthian column of Devonshire granite. She stared up at the statue of the nation’s great naval hero.
‘How on earth did they get it up there?’ she asked.
‘Very slowly, I should imagine,’ said Younger.
‘It’s so high.’
‘They built a wooden scaffold to help them erect the column, then they must have winched up the statue.’ He pointed to the bronze bas-reliefs at the base of the column. ‘Those were cast from cannon taken from enemy ships captured by Nelson in battle.’
‘Gordon can even tell you which battles they represent,’ said Susanna, fondly. ‘He loves that kind of detail about the past.’
‘History has always been my passion,’ he agreed.
‘Well, I always look to the future instead of the past,’ said Oxley. ‘I want to know what tomorrow holds for me and not what a one-eyed admiral did all those years ago at sea.’
‘Jerry!’ chided Irene. ‘You should show some respect.’
‘Why?’
‘Nelson was one of the greatest sailors of all time,’ Younger reminded him. ‘He defeated the French at Trafalgar even though his fleet was outnumbered. Unfortunately, he died during the action.’ He tossed a glance upward. ‘If anyone deserves to be honoured, it’s Nelson.’
Oxley was no longer listening. His attention had shifted to an urchin who’d been mingling with the crowd and who was in the act of removing a wallet from an unsuspecting sightseer. Oxley had no desire to warn the victim. He sided instinctively with the criminal. He wanted to step forward and advise the boy to take more time. Sudden movement would alert the man. The urchin was too hasty. His final snatch of the wallet made his victim turn round and clap a hand to his pocket. The boy darted off into the throng. Yelling in outrage, the man went after him, but Oxley came to the lad’s aid. Stepping sharply to the left, he deliberately collided with the victim to slow him down then showered him with apologies. By the time the man continued his pursuit, it was too late. The boy had vanished. Oxley smiled at what he considered to be a good deed. Irene was puzzled.
‘What happened?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know,’ replied Oxley, innocently.
‘Someone just robbed that man,’ said Younger.
‘No wonder he seemed so angry.’
‘He ran straight into you.’
Irene was sympathetic. ‘Were you hurt, Jerry?’
‘No,’ said Oxley, holding his lapels to straighten his frock coat. ‘I hardly felt a thing. The truth of it is that he came off far worse than me because I’m bigger and stronger. Come on,’ he added, ‘let’s walk down Whitehall to see Scotland Yard. That’s far more interesting to me than Nelson’s column.’
He led the way through the crowd, wondering how long it would be before the irate man into whom he’d just bumped realised that, in the process of doing so, Oxley had deftly relieved him of his gold watch.
Colbeck had been impressed by Ian Peebles. To begin with, the new recruit was unfailingly polite. It was not always the case with those whose formative years had been spent in the army. Edward Tallis, for instance, had no truck with politeness. It was a foreign concept to him and foreigners were, by definition, creatures to be shunned. The habit of command had deprived him of conversational niceties. He issued orders with the splenetic zeal of one who expected them to be obeyed without question. Unlike the superintendent, Peebles had not been an officer but he had risen to the rank of army sergeant and was thus used to drilling those under his authority. Beneath his youthful exterior, there was palpably a core of steel. Even in his short time in the department, he’d shown flashes of inspiration. Colbeck believed that he would turn out to be a formidable detective.
It was detection of another kind that prompted Peebles. When he found himself alone with Colbeck in the latter’s office, he asked the question he’d be saving up for such a moment.
‘Is it true that you’re about to get married, Inspector?’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Have you set a date for the wedding?’
‘It’s… under discussion,’ said Colbeck.
‘Catherine and I have already started to make arrangements. It will be a quiet affair as neither of us has a large family. That’s all to the good in my mind. I hate fuss of any kind. I simply want to be with the woman I adore.’
Colbeck thought about Madeleine. ‘We have that ambition in common.’
‘Where will you get married?’
‘The parish church in Camden. Madeleine has worshipped there since she was a small child. As in your case, we anticipate a very quiet wedding.’
‘Are you going to invite the superintendent?’
‘Oh, no,’ said Colbeck, laughing. ‘He will certainly not be invited and, even if he were, he would certainly refuse to attend. I don’t wish to put him in a position where he has to turn down the invitation.’
‘It’s strange, isn’t it?’ mused Peebles. ‘I’m talking about the way that your life can turn full circle as a result of a chance meeting. To be honest with you, I never thought that I’d ever get married. I had few opportunities to spend time in mixed company and fewer still to meet eligible young women. Besides,’ he said with a self-effacing smile, ‘I never considered that I had much to offer. I’m not the sort of person who courts the mirror or who has a large income to dangle in front of a prospective wife. I was prepared to stay married to the army instead. Then I met Catherine…’
‘And she rearranged your priorities for you, I daresay.’
‘It was rather frightening how quickly it all happened. I had no control whatsoever over it. Was it the same for you, Inspector?’
‘Not quite,’ said Colbeck, unwilling to confide too much about his own situation. ‘The demands of my work tended to slow everything down. But,’ he went on, changing the subject, ‘we shouldn’t be revelling in our own good fortune. The relationship on which we should concentrate is that between Jeremy Oxley and Irene Adnam. Though it falls well short of marriage, it’s just as binding in their minds. They are conjoined by murder. That makes them especially dangerous and I speak for her as well as for him. People who kill once will have few qualms about doing so again. We must beware.’
‘I faced death many times in the army.’
‘Yes, Constable, but you had a weapon with which to defend yourself. The rules of engagement are different now. We have neither rifles nor any other firearm. Our weapons are intelligence, swiftness of reaction and surprise. We must deploy all three. At the moment, of course, Oxley and Adnam think themselves supremely safe. That will change dramatically.’
‘Why is that, Inspector?’
‘We’ve tried to harness the power of the press. Until today, everyone was wondering about the identity of Oxley’s mysterious female accomplice. Her name will be voiced abroad tomorrow.’
‘What effect do you think that will have?’
‘I’m hoping that it will be twofold,’ said Colbeck. ‘With luck, it will prompt members of the general public to come forward with details of sightings of the couple. Somebody must have seen them and nothing jogs the memory as much as the promise of a large reward. The other consequence is obvious.’
‘It will put the wind up the pair of them.’
Colbeck nodded. ‘I think they’ll panic and, when people do that, they usually act on impulse. Oxley and Adnam will know that time is running out for them. They may well bolt from their hiding place.’
Madeleine made breakfast that morning with a sense of duty tinged with sadness. It was only a matter of weeks before her father could stay in bed for as long as he liked. Retirement would revolutionise their lives. It was an unsettling thought. Routine had been the salvation of Caleb Andrews. When his wife had died, he’d been inconsolable and his daughter had had to bear the crushing weight of his grief as well as her own sorrow. She’d rescued him from complete collapse by adhering to a strict routine, waking him for breakfast in the morning and having supper ready for him when he returned in the evening. On the occasions when he had time off, she insisted on taking him for a walk or invited friends and relatives to visit them. Madeleine never let her father be on his own for any length of time when he might surrender to his anguish. On Sundays she first went to church then visited her mother’s grave with him.
Shared bereavement drew them together and deepened their love. It took a long time for Andrews to emerge from the long, dark tunnel of his misery. When he’d finished blinking in the light and could see properly again, he realised just how much he’d depended on Madeleine and how much responsibility she’d had to shoulder. He felt guilty that he’d unintentionally turned her into a cook, domestic servant and nurse. Caring for him for endless months had deprived her of any independent life. It was time that could never be clawed back. He was deeply in her debt. He liked to think that he’d repaid some of that debt when the injuries he received during a train robbery had led directly to Madeleine’s friendship with Robert Colbeck.
‘Are you certain that you told him, Maddy?’ he asked.
‘Eat your breakfast.’
‘Does he know that I was driving that particular train?’
‘Yes, Father,’ she said, cutting a slice off the loaf of bread, ‘I made a point of telling him.’
‘Then why hasn’t he made the effort to see me? I can recount exactly what happened.’
‘I think he’s following other lines of enquiry.’
‘Dirk Sowerby and I were there.’
‘So were all the passengers on the train but Robert doesn’t think it worthwhile to interview any of them because nobody actually witnessed the shooting and the escape.’
‘I’d still like to be involved, Maddy.’
‘You need to be involved on another train,’ she warned him, ‘and you’ll be late if you dawdle over your breakfast.’
‘I’ll walk to work faster,’ he said through a mouthful of food. ‘And if you do see him again, tell him I ought to be consulted about this case. I’ve got a theory about that woman, you see.’
‘Tell it to Dirk Sowerby.’
Gobbling the remainder of his breakfast, he washed it down with some tea then got ready to leave. As she gave him his farewell kiss, he pulled her close.
‘I haven’t forgotten what you did for me, Maddy,’ he said with sudden emotion. ‘But for you, I’d have died of grief. I was a heavy cross for you to bear. It was selfish of me to impose on you like that.’
She kissed him again. ‘That’s what daughters are for.’
‘Well, I won’t be a burden for much longer. When I retire from the railway, you can leave me to my own devices and start to enjoy life on your own.’ Nudging her in the ribs, he gave a low cackle. ‘Well, maybe not entirely on your own.’
‘Off you go, Father,’ she said, opening the door.
‘Are you throwing me out?’ he complained.
‘Yes I am, and I have only one request.’
‘What’s that?
‘Make sure that you bring the newspaper home with you.’
‘Supposing that I forget?’ he teased.
‘Then I’ll forget to cook you supper.’
He cackled again. ‘In that case, you’ll have your newspaper. It’s important for you to keep abreast of what’s happening in the world.’
‘There’s only one thing that interests me at the moment,’ she told him. ‘I want to know how the investigation is going. Robert was unfairly criticised in yesterday’s edition. I hope that they have the grace to recognise his qualities in today’s paper.’
Face contorted with fury, Tallis read the article in The Times aloud.
‘“Days have now elapsed since the discovery of two inhuman murders and the perpetrators of these unspeakable deeds are, we regret to say, still at liberty to kill again. Surely the distinguished Railway Detective can do better than this? The public has a right to expect certain standards from our police and they have fallen woefully below those standards in this instance. If Superintendent Tallis and Inspector Colbeck suffer these devils to remain at liberty, they will inflict on themselves indelible disgrace…”’
Scrunching the newspaper up, Tallis hurled it to the floor and reached for a cigar. Not daring to move, Leeming remained motionless but Colbeck retrieved the paper and smoothed it between his hands.
‘They did name Irene Adnam,’ he pointed out, ‘and that, after all, was the object of the exercise.’
Tallis smouldered. ‘They can never resist a chance to attack me,’ he said. ‘Newspapers are a despicable invention.’
‘Our lives would be a struggle without them, sir. Set against their defects are many virtues. All that you read was one article out of many. Read the whole newspaper and you’ll see the range of its coverage. It’s a mine of useful information.’
‘Superintendent Tallis is an incompetent idiot — is that what you call useful information?’
‘You’ve been called worse, sir,’ Leeming put in cheerily before recoiling from the superintendent’s icy glare. ‘There’s one thing that we may be sure of, I fancy. Constable Peebles will not wish to include anything from that article in his scrapbook. It suggests that the police only recruit imbeciles.’
‘The other newspapers were less trenchant,’ noted Colbeck. ‘Each and every one of them did what we asked and identified Irene Adnam as the person who shot Constable Wakeley. That will cause an enormous shock. Who would expect a young woman to be capable of such a heinous crime?’
‘That’s what Estelle said to me.’
‘Sergeant Leeming,’ growled Tallis.
‘Yes, sir?’
‘Your wife has no place in this discussion.’
‘Estelle was only expressing a common opinion.’
‘It’s irrelevant to the investigation. I’ve told you before about quoting Mrs Leeming as if she has some kind of auxiliary role as a detective. She does not and never will have,’ he said before biting off the end of his cigar and spitting it into the wastepaper basket. ‘So please do not mention her name again. Learn from Colbeck. He never drags in the uninformed comments of the lady who is about to become his wife. A woman’s place is in the home — leave her there.’
‘If you say so, Superintendent,’ replied Leeming.
‘And you might pass on that advice to Constable Peebles.’
‘I will, sir.’
‘He’s rather prone to mention the lady in his life.’
‘That’s only natural.’
‘No woman will ever trespass on our work here.’
Leeming shot Colbeck a glance. He was aware that Madeleine had assisted in a number of investigations and was grateful for the help she’d been able to give. Tallis sniffed conspiracy.
‘What’s going on?’ he demanded.
‘Nothing, sir,’ said Leeming, feeling his collar tighten.
‘You gave the inspector a meaningful look.’
‘I think you’re mistaken.’
‘I’m never mistaken about you,’ said Tallis, lighting his cigar with some difficulty. ‘I can read you like a book, Sergeant, though it is not one that I’d recommend to anyone else. The prose is dull, the plot is laboured and its main character is fatally hindered by his many limitations.’
‘You’re being very unjust to Sergeant Leeming,’ said Colbeck, stepping in to defend him. ‘If you care to look back over the years, you’ll be reminded of the countless occasions when the sergeant showed immense courage in the course of his duties. During our time in France, for example, he risked his life and bore the marks to prove it. I suggest that you read the book named Victor Leeming more carefully in future, Superintendent,’ he went on, indicating his friend. ‘If you do that, you’ll find that it has a most admirable hero.’
Leeming came close to blushing. He had never received such unstinting praise in that office before and — although it came from Colbeck rather than Tallis — it lifted his spirits. In his opinion, it was Colbeck who’d just shown true heroism. Leeming could never have spoken so forcefully to the superintendent. There was another bonus. Tallis had the grace to look abashed and to mumble an apology. As another precedent was set, Leeming grinned from ear to ear.
‘It’s good of you to apologise, sir,’ said Colbeck, holding up the newspaper. ‘I trust that the author of this article about us will follow your example. When we make our arrests, he’ll have to admit that his criticism of us was ill-judged.’
‘First of all,’ said Tallis, now half-hidden by a cloud of cigar smoke, ‘we have to find these devils.’
‘The press will do that for us.’
‘A big reward always gets a good response,’ noted Leeming. ‘Even those who may be hiding the villains will be tempted by that amount of money.’
‘I’m not so much concerned about them,’ said Colbeck. ‘We may get a flood of information but much of it will be false and misleading. The most important readers are Oxley and Adnam. When they pick up a newspaper today, they are in for a fright.’
‘You’re assuming that they can read,’ said Tallis scornfully. ‘Most of the criminals in this country are illiterate. They would only reach for a newspaper when they wanted to light a fire.’
‘That’s not the case here, Superintendent. Irene Adnam’s father went out of his way to impress upon me that he’d paid for his daughter to have a sound education and Oxley is a man of more than average intelligence. This case has aroused a lot of publicity,’ said Colbeck. ‘Details of the investigation are printed every day. Oxley will make a point of reading the newspaper to see how close we’re getting to him. When he sees that we’ve identified his accomplice, he’ll realise that we’re hot on his trail.’
‘Could we have a house like this one day, Jerry?’ pleaded Irene.
‘No,’ he replied.
Her face fell. ‘Why not?’
‘I’d want something much bigger.’
She rallied at once. ‘That’s wonderful!’
‘We have to be ambitious.’
‘Can we afford it?’
‘I’ve got plenty of money hidden away and, as we’ve discovered, we can easily make more when we work together.’
‘What about servants? I’ll want a domestic staff.’
‘You can have as many servants as you wish, Irene.’
It was something that had always rankled with her. During her childhood, she’d lived in a comfortable house and always had servants to tackle any mundane chores. When her father went into decline, she lost the security of a good home and — as they flitted from one meaner abode to another — she found herself doing jobs that had hitherto been allocated to servants. The crowning disgrace was being forced to enter domestic service herself, a way of life she thought of as respectable slavery. It was after nursing rebellious thoughts against her employer that she turned to a life of crime.
‘Can we ever lead a normal life?’ she asked.
‘Gordon and Susanna have managed to do it.’
‘But their situation is rather different. Thanks to all the money he inherited from former patients, Gordon will never have to work again. They can just live contentedly here in anonymity.’
‘We’ll do the same one day,’ he promised. ‘The trick is to plan ahead as they did. Though he has no regrets about helping people in great pain to die peacefully, he knew that he was committing a crime. That’s why he didn’t report me when we first met. He accepted that, in the eyes of the law, we were fellow criminals. Our friendship developed from there.’
‘My worry is that he and Susanna would feel impelled to report us if they knew what we did on that train.’
‘There’s no possibility of that happening, Irene.’
‘They’d be shocked.’
‘I’m sure they would,’ said Oxley, ‘but that doesn’t mean they’d go to the police. I know too much about them. If they betrayed us, their life here would crumble to pieces when I betrayed them.’
Irene relaxed. ‘I never thought of it that way.’
They heard a key being inserted in a lock, then there was a creak as the front door was opened. Their hosts had just returned from their morning walk. Younger and his wife came into the parlour.
‘We’re ready for a cup of tea,’ said Younger, affably. ‘Shall I ask Binnie to make some for you as well?’
‘Yes, please,’ said Irene. ‘Did you have a nice walk?’
‘It was very bracing,’ replied Susanna. ‘We went all the way to the railway station so that Gordon could buy a newspaper for you.’
‘Heavens!’ exclaimed Younger, taking the newspaper from under his arm. ‘I’m forgetting my manners. Here you are, Jerry,’ he went on, handing it over. ‘As our guest, you should read it first.’
‘Thank you,’ said Oxley.
‘Excuse me.’
‘I’ll need to speak to Binnie about luncheon,’ said Susanna as she followed her husband out of the room. ‘I’m not quite sure what we have in the larder.’
Left alone with Irene, Oxley sat back for what he hoped would be a leisurely read of The Times. Seconds later, he leapt up from his chair and stared in disbelief at the words in front of him. He read on with his mouth agape.
‘They know who you are, Irene!’ he gasped.
‘How can they?’
‘They’ve named you as my accomplice during the escape and given a full description of you. They’ve even listed some of the other crimes for which you’re being sought.’
Irene was on her feet to look over his shoulder. ‘That can’t be true!’ she cried. ‘I rarely used my real name. How on earth did they connect me with you?’
‘This is Colbeck’s doing,’ he said, angrily.
‘Does that mean we’re no longer safe?’
‘Not as long as he’s in charge of the investigation. Nobody else would have been able to identify you, Irene, but Colbeck managed it somehow. I told you that he was tenacious.’
She grabbed his arm. ‘What are we going to do, Jerry?’
‘There’s only one way to keep the police at bay.’
‘Is there?’
Oxley grinned malevolently. ‘We have to kill Inspector Colbeck.’
The public response was immediate. Lured by the promise of a large reward, a handful of people arrived at Scotland Yard claiming to have information about the fugitives. Gerald Kane was typical of them. He was a small, round, smirking individual in his thirties. Invited into Colbeck’s office, he took a seat and rubbed his hands excitedly. Ian Peebles was there to watch the inspector in action. Colbeck was excessively civil to their visitor.
‘We’re most grateful to you for coming here, Mr Kane,’ he said. ‘I don’t need to explain how important it is to catch these two people.’
‘They’re deep-dyed villains,’ declared Kane, ‘and I’m glad to be able to put them behind bars.’ He looked around. ‘Do I get the reward before I give my evidence or afterwards?’
‘Let’s not talk about the money at this stage, sir. We’d like to hear what you have to say so that we can assess its value to us.’
‘But I saw them, Inspector. I served them.’
‘Are you sure that it was Oxley and Adnam?’
‘I’d swear that it was.’ Kane took a deep breath before launching into what was patently a well-rehearsed speech. ‘I’m a watchmaker by trade and work for Mr Berrow in Makepeace Street. Of necessity, I have excellent eyesight. Most of my time is spent repairing watches and clocks but, whenever Mr Berrow steps out of the shop, I take his place behind the counter. That’s where I was yesterday when a gentleman entered with a female companion. Since she was carrying her gloves, I noticed that she was wearing a wedding ring, but I had the feeling that they were not married. Don’t ask me to explain why. There was just something about them. Anyway,’ he continued, ‘the gentlemen wished to buy a watch for his so-called wife and I showed them what we had in the shop. They took several minutes examining them, so I had plenty of time to observe them closely. It’s a habit of mine,’ he said with a sycophantic smile. ‘Our stock is extremely valuable. It therefore behoves us to take careful note of anyone who comes through the door. People — though I need hardly tell this to detectives — are not always what they seem.’
Colbeck already knew that he was lying but Peebles still believed they might be hearing crucial information. He was surprised when the inspector’s tone hardened.
‘Describe them, Mr Kane,’ snapped Colbeck.
‘Well, yes, I will,’ said Kane, importantly.
He then proceeded to offer what was an exact recitation of the details given in the newspapers about Oxley and Adnam. Kane might have been reading them out line by line. When he finished, he beamed as if expecting applause. He rubbed his hands again.
‘Can I take the reward now, please?’
‘Oh, you’ll get your reward, Mr Kane,’ said Colbeck. ‘You’ll be charged with telling lies to an officer of the law in pursuit of monetary gain. Constable Peebles…’
‘Yes, Inspector?’ said Peebles, stepping forward.
‘Take this man out and arrest him.’
‘Are you certain that he’s deceiving us, sir?’
‘The fellow is a barefaced liar.’
‘That’s not true!’ howled Kane. ‘I’d swear it on the Bible.’
‘Then you’d be committing a form of perjury before God,’ said Colbeck, ‘and that’s equally reprehensible. Get this man out of my sight, Constable.’
‘Come on,’ said Peebles, taking Kane by the collar and yanking him upright. ‘By wasting our time here, you’ve delayed a murder investigation. Out you go, Mr Kane.’
The watchmaker’s assistant was marched unceremoniously out.
Colbeck looked at the list on his desk. Kane’s was the fifth name on it. His four predecessors had also tried to trick their way to the reward and were now regretting their attempt to mislead Colbeck. With an air of resignation born of experience, he put a cross beside the name of the latest culprit. There was a tap on the door. When it opened, Leeming entered the room.
‘What happened, sir?’ he asked.
‘Mr Kane told us a pack of lies.’
‘When did you know that?’
‘The moment he asked about the reward,’ said Colbeck. ‘A genuine witness would simply want to see the arrests made. I know that policemen will never be popular but we do strive to keep the streets safe for people, and, when horrendous crimes of this nature take place, we do everything in our power to apprehend those who committed them. The public should be reminded of that regularly.’
‘I agree,’ said Leeming. ‘Oh, the superintendent told me to give you this.’ He handed over a letter. ‘He’d like your opinion of it.’
Opening the letter, Colbeck read it and his interest quickened.
‘I believe it to be genuine,’ he decided.
‘The superintendent thought it was sent as a deliberate attempt to misinform us.’
‘Then he and I must agree to differ,’ said Colbeck. ‘If someone goes to the trouble of sending a letter all this way by a courier, then she does have something of value to tell us. There’s no mention of the reward here, Victor. That’s very encouraging.’ Folding the letter up, he slipped it into his pocket. ‘I’ll take the next train to Coventry.’
‘Will you get permission from Mr Tallis first?’
‘No, Victor. I’ll leave you to do that on my behalf. Persuade him that I simply had to dash off.’ He took his copy of Bradshaw from a drawer. ‘Now that he’s starting to appreciate your true value as a detective, he can hold no fears for you.’
Leeming was nonplussed. ‘What am I to say to him?’
‘Tell him that I’ve gone to see a dark lady.’