Blood on the line

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The shot had reverberated along the road and many curious heads appeared at windows. Once they’d established that the danger was past, a few people came out of their houses to run towards the prostrate figure. Tallis was bent penitently over Peebles, offering up a silent prayer for the salvation of the dead man’s soul. It had been a quick death but that gave the superintendent no solace. By a rash action on his part, he’d lost a brave man with a promising future ahead of him. Ian Peebles was everything he could have asked for in a recruit. Tallis felt an even sharper stab of guilt when he remembered the forthcoming marriage. It would never take place now and it would be his job to inform the prospective bride that her future husband had been murdered in broad daylight. Overwhelmed with the implications of it all, he did not realise that more and more people were coming to view the corpse. When he finally looked up, therefore, he saw that there was a ring of faces around him. Tallis got angrily to his feet.

‘Stand back!’ he ordered. ‘This is not a peep show.’

‘What happened?’ asked someone.

‘Isn’t it obvious? He’s been shot dead. Show him some respect and stop staring like that.’ Taking off his coat, he used it to cover Peebles’ chest and face. ‘Someone call a cab.’

As a man ran off down the road, a woman stepped forward.

‘It’s a policeman we need to call,’ she suggested.

‘We are policemen, madam,’ said Tallis with rasping authority. ‘We are detectives from Scotland Yard in pursuit of a wanted man named Jeremy Oxley. It was he who just fired a gun.’

‘Oh, I read about someone called Oxley in this morning’s newspaper,’ she said.

‘He was standing right here only minutes ago.’ He looked around the faces. ‘Do we have any witnesses? Did anyone see the fellow lurking in the trees? I believe that he had a cab waiting for him. Did any of you happen to notice the way that it drove off?’ When the faces remained blank, he became exasperated. ‘Good God!’ he yelled. ‘Are you all blind? One of you must have seen something.’

There was a long, awkward, embarrassed silence during which they traded sheepish glances. An elderly man eventually spoke.

‘I might have seen them, sir,’ he said, stepping forward.

Tallis glowered at him. ‘Them?’

‘I took my dog for a walk earlier. On my way back, I saw a cab pulling up over there.’ He pointed a skeletal finger. ‘A man in his thirties got out with a young woman. They went towards those trees. I thought nothing of it at the time and went home. Do you think that they could be connected to what happened?’

‘I’m certain that they are,’ said Tallis. ‘I’ll want you to show me the exact place where you saw the cab.’

‘The woman must have been Irene Adnam,’ said another man in hushed tones. ‘I saw that report in the paper as well. She’s the one who shot a policeman on a train. It’s dreadful to think such people are on the loose. We should be protected from such villains.’

‘We were trying to protect, sir,’ snapped Tallis, rounding on the man. ‘Constable Peebles was in the act of arresting Oxley when he was shot. The Metropolitan Police Force does all it can to make this city safe for its citizens. Courageous men like the constable are ready to sacrifice their lives in that noble cause. So don’t you dare to criticise us.’ He threw out a challenge. ‘Which of you would tackle an armed man with a record of violence?’

‘Did you know beforehand that he was armed?’ asked the elderly man.

‘There was every chance that he would be.’

‘Then why did you let your colleague try to arrest him alone?’

‘Yes,’ said the woman who’d spoken earlier. ‘Why didn’t the two of you go after him?’

‘And if you knew that he might have a gun,’ continued the old man, ‘why didn’t you carry weapons yourselves?’

The woman was accusatory. ‘Why didn’t you bring more men?’

‘Why didn’t you surround him?’

‘How many more will die before you actually catch him?’

‘And catch her,’ said the man. ‘She’s another killer.’

There was collective agreement that the police were to blame for allowing Oxley and Adnam to remain at liberty. So many questions were hurled at Tallis that he felt as if he were facing a verbal firing squad. There was far worse in store for him. These were simply concerned members of the public airing their opinions. The really searing questions would come from the family of Ian Peebles and from the young woman who was expecting to marry him.

Meeker was so shaken that perspiration was still pouring out of his brow as he gabbled his story. He was a portly man of middle years with a flabby, weather-beaten face. Seated in a chair in Colbeck’s office, he kept glancing over his shoulder as if fearing an attack. The cab driver had arrived at Scotland Yard not long after Colbeck had returned there. Instead of being able to report to the superintendent, Colbeck found himself listening to a grim narrative.

‘Let me stop you there, Mr Meeker,’ he said, taking a bottle of brandy from his desk and pouring some into a glass. ‘You’re talking so fast that we can’t hear much of what you’re saying. Why don’t you drink this and take a few moments to calm down?’ He handed over the glass. ‘There’s no hurry. What you have to tell us is very important and we’re grateful that you came to us. The sergeant and I want to hear every word.’

He and Leeming waited while their visitor took a first sip of brandy. It seemed to steady him. After a second, longer sip, he felt ready to continue. He spoke more slowly this time.

‘It was like this, Inspector,’ he said, still sweating profusely. ‘I picked up a fare in the Strand. It was a man and woman. They looked very respectable. The man gave me no destination. I was to drive north up Tottenham Court Road until he told me to stop. It took well over twenty minutes but I wasn’t going to complain, was I? He was paying and it was a pleasant enough evening. I kept going until we came to a road with big houses in it. He tells me to pull over and to wait. Then he and the woman went off into this clump of trees for quite a long time. You can imagine what I thought was going on,’ he added, rolling his eyes. ‘Well, it was none of my business. As long as they weren’t trying to do it in my cab, I was ready to let them get on with it. Then, just as I was running out of patience and wondering if they’d simply gone off without paying, this shot rings out and the pair of them comes dashing back to the cab. Before they jumped in, the man — I’ll never forget this as long as I live — puts a gun to my head and tells me to drive off fast. What else could I do, Inspector? He’d have killed me.’

‘Where did you take them?’ asked Colbeck.

‘Euston station, sir.’

‘What did you do then?’

‘To be honest,’ said Meeker, ‘I just sat in my cab and cried. I’m not a weak man as a rule. I’m very strong-willed. You have to be if you drive a cab because you pick up all sorts of odd people. But I’ve never stared down the barrel of a gun before. I thought he was going to blow my skull apart.’

‘I suppose that they didn’t even pay you,’ said Leeming.

‘Not a brass farthing. They hopped out of the cab at Euston and went off into the crowd. The man had warned me not to follow him but I couldn’t have done that even if I’d wanted to. My legs were like jelly.’ He took another sip of brandy. ‘Anyway, I waited until I felt a little better, then I told this policeman who was on duty there what had happened. When I described my two passengers, he said they sounded just like the ones involved in a foul murder up near Wolverhampton way. The policeman told me to come here at once and to ask for you.’

‘He did the right thing,’ said Colbeck. ‘Where exactly were you when you heard the gunshot?’

He unfolded a map of London on his desk and Meeker stood up to study it. After much deliberation, he jabbed a finger. Colbeck knew that he was telling the truth. It would have taken him all of twenty minutes and more to get to that location from the Strand. Leeming confirmed the identity of the two passengers.

‘It must have been them, sir,’ he said. ‘That’s exactly the place that Oxley wanted you to go to. I read his letter.’

Colbeck was annoyed. ‘I wish that I’d been allowed to do so.’

‘The superintendent thought it might contain crucial evidence.’

‘I’ll take the matter up with him when he returns. As for you, sir,’ he went on, turning to Meeker, ‘you are to be congratulated. You’ve been through a terrible experience and had the sense to confide in a uniformed officer. Thank you for coming here.’

‘I had to get it off my chest, Inspector,’ said Meeker.

‘I can appreciate that.’

Leeming was sympathetic. ‘I hope you’re feeling better now.’

‘Oh, I am, Sergeant.’ He held up the glass. ‘This is good brandy.’

‘The inspector keeps it for times like this.’

‘It’s exactly what I needed.’

Meeker downed the glass in one noisy gulp then put it on the desk. After thanking them both, he waddled across to the door. Before he left, he remembered something and produced a hopeful smile.

‘Does this mean that I get the reward?’ he asked.

‘I’m afraid not,’ said Colbeck. ‘It goes to the person who gives us information that leads to the arrest of the two suspects. You’re just another one of their victims, I’m afraid.’

The cab driver gave a resigned shrug before going out. Closing the door after him, Colbeck was able to confide his fears to Leeming.

‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Victor?’ he asked.

‘That depends, sir.’

‘Oxley’s letter gave me a specific time and place.’

‘It’s exactly the spot that Mr Meeker went to.’

‘But who else went there? That’s my worry.’ He glanced in the direction of Tallis’s office. ‘When was the last time the superintendent left his desk?’

‘It was last year when he came up to Yorkshire and interfered with our investigation. It must be months and months ago. Since then, he’s spent every day in his office.’ He blinked as he understood the point of the question. ‘You don’t believe that Mr Tallis went in your place, do you?’

‘I believe exactly that.’

‘But the letter particularly asked for you and only you. Simply by looking at him, Oxley would have known that the superintendent couldn’t possibly have been Inspector Colbeck.’

‘Perhaps he took someone with him, someone more akin to me.’

‘Who could that be, I wonder?’

‘And what happened to him?’ said Colbeck. ‘Mr Meeker heard a gun being fired. Does that mean Oxley has shot one of our men?’

‘If he did,’ replied Leeming. ‘I’ll wager that he thinks he shot you.’

Outwardly, she had remained calm throughout, but Irene Adnam’s stomach was churning. She had watched Oxley shooting his victim and — even though she believed that it had to be done — she was sickened. During the ride to Euston, she’d been on tenterhooks. After the short train journey to Willesden, the long walk to the home of their friends gave them time to talk over in detail what had happened. Evening shadows dappled the ground and a stiff breeze blew in their faces. Irene glanced across at his chest.

‘You’ve got blood on your waistcoat,’ she said.

‘Yes, I know, it’s a rather nasty stain. No call for alarm,’ he said, smirking, ‘it’s not my blood, Irene. It was his.’

‘I just hope that nobody spotted it on the train.’

‘They were too busy looking at you. That’s the advantage of travelling with a gorgeous woman. She’s a perfect distraction.’

They walked on for a while before she spoke again.

‘What are you going to tell Gordon and Susanna?’

‘I’ll think of something.’

‘What happened today will be reported in the newspapers.’

‘And so I should hope,’ said Oxley. ‘I did everyone in the criminal fraternity a big favour today. I killed Inspector Colbeck.’

‘You don’t know that it was him, Jerry.’

‘Who else could it be? He came to the place I told him and was ready to talk. The only mistake he made was to bring that other man with him. I made sure that I separated them.’

‘I didn’t get a close look at him,’ she conceded, ‘but he was younger than I expected. And I wouldn’t call him a dandy.’

‘That was Colbeck,’ he affirmed. ‘I’m certain of it. I’m equally certain that they’ve got no hope of catching us now. Without him at the helm, the investigation will lose all direction.’ He put an arm around her. ‘I know that it was harrowing for you, Irene, but it had to be done. Colbeck would have been our nemesis.’

‘He was a detective,’ she said, worriedly, ‘so every policeman in London will be looking for us. We’ve disturbed a hornet’s nest.’

‘Policemen have been looking for me for a long time but I usually manage to evade them. On the two occasions when I have been arrested, I’ve contrived to escape.’

Irene turned away so that he wouldn’t see her wince. Mention of his escape on the train revived troubling memories for her and she knew that she’d lie awake that night agonising over the latest murder. She had the conscience for both of them. Oxley behaved as if they’d simply been for a ride in a cab. The brutal way that he’d threatened the driver had upset her. To Oxley, it was a source of amusement.

‘How long will we stay here?’ she asked.

‘As long as I decide, Irene.’

‘What if they find out?’ she asked. ‘Gordon and Susanna are bound to do so in the end.’

‘They won’t say a word.’

‘But we’re putting them in danger, Jerry. If we are caught there, the police will charge them as well.’

‘They won’t catch us,’ he assured her. ‘Why do you think I chose to hide there? We’re completely off the beaten track. All that we have to do is to keep our heads down and watch the world go by.’

‘There’ll be a manhunt.’

‘There was a manhunt in the Midlands when I escaped but they still haven’t captured me, have they? Put yourself in their shoes, Irene. That fat fool of a cab driver will have told them that he took us to Euston. What are they going to deduce?’

‘They’ll know that we fled by train.’

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘but they don’t know which train. They’ll assume that we wanted to get as far away from London as possible. In fact, we got off at a station that’s only six miles away. They’d never dream we’d be careless enough to stay so close.’

Irene was heartened. ‘I think you’re right, Jerry.’

‘Trust me. Everything will be fine.’

‘There’ll be no more shooting, will there?’

‘That’s all behind us now that Colbeck is dead.’

‘Oh, I do hope so.’ She became wistful. ‘I want us to be like Gordon and Susanna one day.’

He grinned. ‘Middle-aged and wrinkled, you mean?’

‘No, Jerry — living as decent, ordinary people in a proper house and being accepted by our neighbours. Not having to fear a knock on the door all the time. I want us to have a normal life.’

‘Then you should have chosen someone else,’ he said, half-jokingly, ‘because I’m neither decent nor ordinary. As for normal life, I think it would bore me to distraction.’

Tallis was too distressed even to reach for a cigar. He sat brooding in his chair while Colbeck and Leeming watched him. He’d not had to explain where he’d been or what had happened. One glance at his face had told them the awful truth. After wallowing in guilt for a long time, he glanced up, saw the two detectives and fished something out of his pocket. He offered it to Colbeck.

‘You deserve to see this, Inspector,’ he said.

Colbeck took it. ‘The sergeant told me what it contains.’

‘Read it yourself and you might understand why I took such precipitate action and why…’ As he thought about Peebles, his voice faltered. ‘Just read it, please.’

Colbeck read the letter and noted some of the barbs aimed at him. Although it had been written at speed, it was no wild diatribe. There was calculation in it. There was also a cruel mention of Helen Millington to act as a spur. Had he seen it when it first arrived, Colbeck would have been sorely tempted to meet Oxley.

‘Constable Peebles had no chance,’ said Tallis, bleakly. ‘He was shot from a distance of a few feet. When I got to him, he was dead. The local ghouls came out to gawp at him, so I covered his face with my coat. I took the body to the morgue in a cab.’

‘What exactly happened, sir?’ asked Colbeck.

‘I’m ashamed to tell you, Inspector, but I think that I ought to. After all, I was acting on the contents of a letter addressed to you.’

‘It was wrong of you to open it.’

Tallis sighed. ‘Oh — if only I hadn’t done so!’

‘I did make that point, sir,’ said Leeming.

‘Yes, I know, but Colbeck wasn’t here and I felt that something important might slip through our fingers. I had to open it and somehow I felt impelled to respond to its demands.’

‘I can accept that,’ said Colbeck. ‘You were fully entitled to take the risks implicit in your action. What I question is your right to engage Constable Peebles in the venture. I’m sure that he was willing but he was also inexperienced.’

‘That’s not true,’ said Tallis, grasping at straws. ‘He’d been on the streets in uniform for years. When he was at Barking, he received a commendation.’

‘He was not being asked to walk the beat with you, sir. He was being confronted by a known criminal with a readiness to kill. Why, in the name of all that’s holy, did you choose him?’

Tallis ran a hand through his hair and hunched his shoulders.

‘I hoped that he might be mistaken for you, Inspector.’

‘That was very unfair of you,’ said Leeming, hotly. ‘It was like painting a target on the constable’s back.’ He reined in his anger. ‘I don’t mean to be disrespectful, sir, but, in the short time I knew him, I grew to admire Constable Peebles. I feel that you let him down.’

Tallis nodded soulfully. ‘I feel it myself, Leeming.’

Seething with fury, Colbeck took pains not to show it. He’d been shocked at the loss of their new recruit and blamed Tallis for the death. At the same time — and it was something he’d never expected to do — he felt sorry for the superintendent. Whatever reproaches Colbeck might make paled beside the torture to which Tallis was clearly subjecting himself. They were looking at a man in agony.

‘We’ve spoken to the cabman who drove them away from the scene,’ said Colbeck, ‘so we know what happened after the shooting. Perhaps you’d be kind enough to tell us what happened before.’

There was a long silence and Colbeck wondered if Tallis had even heard him. Eventually, however, the superintendent roused himself and sat upright like a man facing his accusers in the dock.

‘This is what occurred,’ he began.

Slowly and with great precision, Tallis reconstructed the events. He offered no defence for his actions and sought no sympathy. It was a clear, unvarnished and completely honest account. When he spoke of Peebles, he did so with the kind of affection they’d never seen him exhibit before. He explained how he’d felt it was his bounden duty to break the bad news in a letter to the parents who lived in Edinburgh. But the real trial for him had been to inform and commiserate with the young woman to whom Peebles was engaged. It had been one of the most painful and difficult things he’d ever had to do, and it had obviously left him jangled.

‘There you have it, gentlemen,’ he said, extending his arms. ‘I sit before you as a man who made an almighty blunder and who must suffer the consequences. In the short term, Inspector Colbeck will take full control of this investigation.’

‘What about you, sir?’ said Leeming.

‘I will do the only thing I can do as a man of honour, Sergeant, and that is to tender my resignation. I wish it to take immediate effect.’

They knew. The second they entered the house, Oxley and Irene realised that their hosts had read about them in the newspaper. The Youngers knew that they’d been offering hospitality to killers steeped in the blood of two Wolverhampton policemen. Gordon and Susanna looked at them through different eyes now. While Irene quailed, Oxley flashed a smile at them.

‘First of all,’ he said, smoothly, ‘let me apologise for our sudden departure this morning. Irene and I felt that we were imposing on you too much, so we decided to stay out of your way for a while. It was a decision we made on the spur of the moment, so it may have looked like appalling rudeness to you. We’re very sorry, aren’t we, Irene?’

‘Yes, yes,’ she said, ‘we are.’

‘That’s no longer the point at issue,’ said Younger, bristling with ire. ‘Since you took my newspaper with you, I borrowed one from a neighbour. I was horrified by what I read.’

‘Calm down, Gordon,’ warned his wife, seeing that he was about to lose his temper. ‘We don’t want this to get out of hand.’

‘Be quiet, Susanna.’

‘But I thought that we agreed to-’

‘You heard what I said.’

The unaccustomed sharpness in his voice upset her. He’d always treated her with courtesy before. Accepting that her husband would pay no heed to her comments, she fell silent and took a few steps back. Younger stared at Oxley, then at Irene. When his eyes moved back to Oxley, they glinted with a mixture of hostility and contempt. Irene felt profoundly uncomfortable but Oxley was at ease. He ventured a smile of appeasement.

‘I thought that we were friends,’ he began.

‘There are limits to even the closest friendship,’ said Younger.

‘Would you rather that we’d told you?’

‘I’d rather you didn’t come anywhere near us, Jerry.’

‘You should have felt honoured that I’d chosen you,’ said Oxley. ‘At a moment of extreme danger, a man turns to the people he can rely on most and that’s why I came to you.’

‘You came under false pretences.’

‘That’s no more than you and Susanna did,’ riposted the other. ‘Your neighbours don’t even know your real names, let alone what you did when you were a respected member of the medical profession in Bradford.’

‘I knew that you’d throw that in our faces.’

‘We’re brothers in arms, Gordon.’

‘That’s not true!’ cried Younger. ‘We’re not murderers!’

‘There’s no need to shout,’ said Susanna in alarm. ‘Look, why don’t we all sit down instead of standing here like this?’

‘What a good idea,’ agreed Oxley, lowering himself onto a sofa and patting the place beside him. ‘Come on, Irene,’ he urged. ‘Make yourself at home.’

She hesitated. ‘I’m not sure that we should stay, Jerry.’

‘They can hardly throw us out.’

The challenge was all the more effective for being made so casually. Younger knew that he was no match for Oxley. He had neither the strength nor means to eject him from the property. As a last resort, he tried to summon up moral authority.

‘Susanna and I would like you to leave at once,’ he said.

‘That’s not what we agreed,’ corrected his wife. ‘We said that they could stay another night.’ She was hurt by the fierce look that her husband shot her. ‘That was what we agreed, Gordon. We discussed it.’

‘But you didn’t discuss it with us, did you?’ said Oxley.

‘This is our home,’ declared Younger.

‘It was bought in names that you invented for the purpose.’

‘That was an unfortunate necessity.’ He walked across to stand over Oxley. ‘Please get out of here now.’

It was more of a request than a command and his voice cracked when he spoke. Susanna was apprehensive and Irene was unsettled but Oxley merely adjusted his position on the sofa. He flashed another smile. ‘Why don’t we talk about this in the morning?’

‘Yes,’ said Susanna, relaxing, ‘why don’t we?’

‘It’s because it’s too dangerous,’ argued Younger, abandoning assertiveness and falling back on reason. ‘Listen, Jerry, what you and Irene have done is, strictly speaking, none of our business.’

‘I’m glad that you realise that,’ said Oxley.

‘But we have to think of our own position. As long as you’re here, then we are imperilled. The manhunt is being led by detectives at Scotland Yard. What happens if they trace you here?’

‘How could they possibly do that?’

‘Some of our neighbours read the newspapers, you know.’

‘Have any of them been banging on your door?’

‘Well, no… they haven’t.’

‘Have any of them accosted you in the road and demanded to know why you’re hiding two desperate fugitives? No, of course they haven’t,’ said Oxley. ‘It would never occur to any of them to do so because they couldn’t conceive of the idea that such pillars of the community as Gordon and Susanna Younger would entertain vile criminals. Nobody who spots us here will take any notice. We’re your guests — that absolves us of any suspicion.’

‘I suppose that there’s some truth in that,’ conceded Younger.

‘If we’d thought we’d be endangering you, we’d never have come here. Would we, Irene?’

‘No, no,’ Irene chimed in.

‘Have we been such a terrible nuisance to you?’

‘Of course not,’ said Susanna.

‘Then where is the problem?’ He looked quizzically up at Younger who’d been staring at Oxley’s waistcoat. ‘Well, Gordon?’

‘What’s that stain?’

‘Oh, it’s nothing to bother about.’

‘It looks like blood.’

‘No,’ said Oxley, easily, ‘it’s a sauce that a butter-fingered waiter spilt over me. The restaurant has reimbursed me and we didn’t have to pay for the meal. However,’ he added, ‘you didn’t answer my question, Gordon. Where is the problem?’

About to speak, Younger swallowed his words. His guests were going to stay and he was powerless to stop them. By way of reply, he flapped his hands.

‘That’s settled then,’ said Oxley with satisfaction. ‘It’s getting late. Why don’t you get out that excellent malt whisky of yours, then we can have a nightcap? We’ll all feel better after that.’

Cyril Hythe was fast asleep when his landlady shook him by the shoulder. He came awake with a start. When she told him that a detective wished to speak to him, he thought at first that it was a practical joke. It took a long time to coax him out of bed. Yawning all the way, Hythe came downstairs to be met by a man who introduced himself as Sergeant Leeming. Fearing that he’d done something wrong, Hythe came fully awake. He was a small, stick-thin stooping man in his thirties who worked as a clerk in the ticket office at Euston. Asked to identify a customer, he laughed mirthlessly.

‘I served hundreds of them in the course of the day,’ he said. ‘How can I remember one man out of a multitude?’

‘This person is very singular,’ explained Leeming. ‘He’s wanted for murder, so I’m asking you to think very carefully. I can give you a fairly precise time when you would have served him.’

‘I wasn’t the only clerk on duty today, Sergeant.’

‘The others are being interviewed by my colleagues at this moment. That will tell you how keen we are to catch this man.’

Leeming told him about the murders on the train and about the more recent killing of Constable Peebles. He gave a full description of the two suspects. From the evidence of the cab driver, he was able to give the clerk an approximate time at which Oxley would have purchased two tickets. Shaking his head, Hythe was unable to help him until a last detail was supplied.

‘When the constable was shot,’ said Leeming, ‘he fell against his killer. Our superintendent saw it happen. The likelihood is that blood could well have got onto Oxley’s coat.’

Hythe perked up. ‘It wasn’t his coat, sir, it was his waistcoat.’

‘You remember him?’

‘I do — he had this dark-red stain on a very expensive waistcoat. I couldn’t have missed that. He was with a young woman who looked much as you describe.’

‘I don’t suppose that you can recall what tickets they bought?’

‘As a matter of fact, I do,’ said Hythe. ‘That bloodstain made it stick in my mind. They bought two singles to Willesden.’

Gordon and Susanna talked long into the night before they fell asleep. Forced to offer shelter to Oxley and Irene, they both prayed that the pair would leave soon and dispel the dark cloud that hung over the house. They were aroused not long after dawn by the sound of two traps rumbling along the road and were surprised when the clattering hooves stopped directly outside. Gordon went to the window and saw a tall, elegant figure getting out of the first trap. Two large uniformed policemen were descending from the second.

Putting on his dressing gown, he went downstairs in great alarm and opened the door. Colbeck introduced himself then sent one of the policemen to the rear of the property. The other remained at the gate to block any attempt at a sudden departure.

‘I believe that you have two guests staying with you, sir,’ said Colbeck, glancing into the house.

‘I’m afraid that you’re mistaken, Inspector,’ replied Younger, wishing that his heart would stop pounding so hard. ‘There’s only my wife and I here.’

‘That’s not what we’ve been led to believe, sir. According to the stationmaster at Willesden, you and Mrs Younger paid a visit to London recently with two people whom we are very anxious to apprehend. Not to beat about the bush,’ said Colbeck, ‘they are wanted for a series of murders.’

Younger gulped. If he and his wife were caught harbouring fugitives, they would face the full rigour of the law. What he could not understand was how the police knew where to find Oxley and Irene. Seeing his amazement, Colbeck enlightened him.

‘Yesterday evening,’ he said, ‘Jeremy Oxley shot dead one of our detectives. We have established that he then took a train to Willesden. When I spoke to the stationmaster there a while ago, he remembered two people getting off a train and recognised them as the people he’d seen with you and Mrs Younger the previous day.’

‘It’s a case of mistaken identity,’ blustered Younger.

‘No man would mistake a woman like Irene Adnam, sir. I’m told that she’s very striking. There was something striking about Oxley as well. The stationmaster said there were bloodstains on his waistcoat.’ He stepped in close. ‘Do you deny you went to London two days ago?’

Younger attempted some bluff. ‘No, Inspector,’ he said, ‘I don’t. I had a chat with Betson — he’s the stationmaster at Willesden. And yes, there were two people with us but they’re not our guests. We met them for the first time on the way to the station.’

‘Yet you came back with them as well. Betson saw you.’

‘That was pure coincidence.’

‘Stand aside, sir,’ said Colbeck, tiring of the prevarication. ‘You are deliberately interfering with a murder enquiry.’

‘What’s going on, Gordon?’ asked Susanna, appearing at the door. ‘Why is that policeman standing at our gate?’

‘Your husband will explain, Mrs Younger,’ said Colbeck. ‘Now will you please let me in or I’ll have to resort to force.’

She froze in horror. ‘You can’t come in here,’ she bleated.

‘It’s hopeless,’ Younger told his wife. ‘They know.’

‘Where are they?’ demanded Colbeck.

‘In the guest bedroom at the rear,’ admitted Younger, ‘but be careful, Inspector. He has a gun.’

‘I’m well aware of that, sir. I came prepared.’

Taking out a pistol, Colbeck went into the house and took a quick inventory of the ground floor. He then crept slowly up the stairs with the weapon at the ready. When he got to the landing, he could see four separate rooms. A circular staircase led to the attic where, he surmised, any servants would sleep. Through the open door of one room, he could see rumpled bedclothes and decided it was the bedroom used by the Youngers. A second door that was ajar disclosed an empty room. He tiptoed to the door opposite, took hold of the knob, twisted it and pushed hard, only to discover that he was not in a bedroom at all. Lined with bookshelves, it had been converted into a study. Before withdrawing, he noted some of the objects on the desk.

Only one room was left. Since it was at the rear of the house, its occupants might not have heard the sound of the horses arriving. With luck, Oxley and Irene would be slumbering quietly. It was time to wake them. Finger on the trigger of the gun, Colbeck used the other hand to grasp the doorknob. On the other side of the door, he told himself, was the man who’d shot Ian Peebles and strangled Helen Millington. He deserved no quarter. If Oxley so much as reached for his weapon, Colbeck resolved to disable him with a bullet before arresting him. He was determined that the man would stay alive to pay for his crimes on the gallows.

With a sudden movement, Colbeck flung open the door and stepped into the room. He pointed his gun at the bed and got ready to shout out a command. It died in his throat. The bed was empty. There was no sign at all of Oxley and Irene.

Whenever he made a decision, Irene had learnt to obey it without argument. There would be time enough later for explanations. Though she was unhappy to slip out of the house in the middle of the night, she trusted Oxley’s instincts. She was also given cause to admire his daring. They’d noticed the farm on their walk to the station. Oxley took her back there in the dark and, leaving her with their luggage, crept off towards the stables. Left alone in an isolated spot, Irene was prey to all sorts of fears but they proved ill-founded. Oxley eventually came out of the gloom, leading a horse to which he’d harnessed a small cart. It was not the most comfortable mode of transport but it served their purposes and got them to their destination. When the cart was abandoned, the horse cropped the grass outside the station.

When they were on the train, they could at last have a proper conversation. At that time of the morning, they had a compartment to themselves. Glad of the privacy and comfort, Irene nestled against the padded seat in first class.

‘Why did we come all the way to Harrow station?’ she asked. ‘Willesden was much closer.’

‘Yes,’ he explained, ‘but this early train doesn’t stop there. To be sure of catching it, we had to go further up the line.’

‘Couldn’t we have caught a later one?’

‘No, Irene.’

‘Why not?’

‘Call it what you will — I sensed danger.’

‘Gordon and Susanna wouldn’t have hurt us.’

‘Yes, they would,’ he said. ‘You saw the state they were in last night. Our friendship was near breaking point. It was only a matter of time before they unwittingly gave us away. It was a mistake to stay another night. I only did so because I wasn’t going to let him turf us out like that so I dug in my heels. It was a matter of principle.’

‘Yesterday,’ she recalled, ‘you told me that we were completely safe now. What changed your mind?’

‘I told you — I had this feeling.’

‘But the police would never have found us there, especially without Inspector Colbeck to lead the hunt. It’s very upsetting to be roused like that in the middle of the night, Jerry. I like to know what’s going on.’

‘We’re making a precautionary move,’ he told her. ‘Gordon and Susanna won’t report us. They’ll just be relieved that we’ve gone.’

‘They’re bound to wonder.’

‘Let them — I’m never going back there again.’

She clung to his arm. ‘Will we ever be really safe?’

‘We already are, Irene.’

‘Sneaking off in the dark and stealing a horse and cart — that doesn’t feel like safety to me. It scares me.’

He kissed her. ‘You’ve no need to be scared when I’m here.’

‘Where exactly are we going?’

‘Wait and see. Meanwhile, try to get some sleep.’

‘I will,’ she said, eyelids already fluttering.

Fatigue sent her quickly asleep. It was a noisy journey. The uproar of the engine and the rattle of the carriages failed to wake her and so did the opening and slamming of doors when they stopped at stations. What finally opened her eyes was the soft rustle of paper. The train was stationary. Irene blinked in the light then looked at Oxley through narrowed lids. Staring at a newspaper he’d bought from a vendor on the platform, Oxley had turned white. It was the first time that Irene had ever seen him truly afraid.

‘What is it?’ she asked, reaching out to touch him.

‘There’s a report about the shooting in London,’ he said, lower lip trembling. ‘It seems that the man I killed yesterday was Detective Constable Ian Peebles. I knew there was danger — Inspector Colbeck is still alive.’