Blood on the Line

‘I will make way now for Inspector Colbeck,’ he said, continuing the laboured metaphor, ‘who – I think you’ll find – has not come off the rails at all but is steaming along the track at full speed.’

Some muted jeers were hidden away in the polite laughter.

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Colbeck with a nod at Tallis. ‘As a result of visits to Manchester, some important new facts have come to light. They relate to the female accomplice who assisted in the escape. The post-mortem on the remains of the two policemen established that one of them had been shot through the skull at close range. The person who fired that shot was a young woman by the name of Irene Adnam.’

He spelt the name for them and set the pencils off again. Colbeck praised Inspector Zachary Boone for the help given him in Manchester and explained how he had tracked down the woman’s father. He told them that Irene and Oxley would be hiding somewhere together and that their newspapers could be the means of catching them. The large reward on offer would, he hoped, encourage anyone who had spotted them to come forward.

‘The description of Irene Adnam that I’m about to give you,’ he said with easy authority, ‘is based on conversations with two people who knew her well – her father and a former employer. Her criminal career began in Manchester where, as you will hear, she left a number of victims in her wake.’

Colbeck went on to give details of her age, height, build, weight and hair colouring. He also mentioned that her voice had traces of a Manchester accent. Her father had described her as very lovely, and even the embittered Ambrose Holte had conceded that she had both physical appeal and natural charm. What had fooled the mill owner was her abiding air of innocence. As he offered them additional details of the woman, she began to take shape before him and did so in such clear outline that he was jolted. Colbeck had met her before. If he omitted the list of her crimes and her local accent, he could be talking about someone else entirely. The coincidence was so unexpected that it brought him to a sudden halt.

Age, height, build, weight and hair colouring – it was uncanny. Even the air of purity was an exact match. In every particular, he had just been describing Helen Millington.

CHAPTER NINE

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.’

CHAPTER TEN

Tolerant by nature, Gordon Younger was nevertheless annoyed by the sudden departure of his guests. Without any explanation, Oxley and Irene had left without even drinking the tea they’d requested. What upset Younger most was the fact that they’d taken the newspaper with them. After the long walk to the station to get it, he felt that he at least had the right to read it. His wife was also distressed. She liked Oxley and had found Irene pleasant company. Having offered both of them hospitality, she’d expected gratitude. Yet during their hasty exit, there had been no whisper of thanks from their guests.

‘Have they gone for good?’ asked Younger.

‘They didn’t say.’

‘Have you looked in their room?’

‘No,’ she replied. ‘I’ll do that now.’

Susanna went upstairs and opened the bedroom door to peep in. Her guests had brought very little luggage with them but most of it was still there. She resisted the temptation to poke into a valise. It was private property. In any case, she and her husband had agreed never to look too closely into what Jeremy Oxley did. It was much more sensible to take him at face value. Whenever he came to them, he was invariably in trouble of some kind. Their job was simply to offer unquestioning help to a friend.

When she returned to the parlour, Gordon was on his feet.

His eyebrows arched. ‘Well?’

‘It looks as if they’re coming back.’

‘Then I’ll give Jerry a piece of my mind.’

‘Don’t start an argument,’ she said, querulously. ‘He’s always been well behaved with us but we know he has a temper.’

‘So do I, Susanna. Nobody is going to treat us like that.’

‘There’s probably an innocent explanation.’

‘You can’t excuse bad manners,’ he said, taking a stand. ‘If they want to remain here any longer, then they owe us a grovelling apology and a promise to mend their ways.’

‘Jerry is to blame. Irene simply does what she’s told.’

‘She was rude to us, Susanna, and I won’t stand for it.’

He paced up and down to relieve his anger, then he remembered something and looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. Reaching a decision, he headed for the door.

‘Where are you going, Gordon?’

‘Across the road,’ he said. ‘Martin Baber gets a copy of The Times most days. He’ll have finished with it by now.’

‘Jerry may bring our copy back.’

‘I can’t wait until he does that.’ He went out. ‘I only make the effort to get a paper once or twice a week, so I’m feeling deprived of news. I won’t be long.’

Susanna resumed her seat and thought about the time they’d spent with their unexpected visitors. They had been tense when they first arrived but had gradually relaxed. Irene, in particular, had loved the semi-rural location and the gardens. They had been quiet and undemanding guests, falling in with the daily routine of the Youngers. Oxley was a criminal and always at odds with the law, Susanna accepted that. It had been difficult for a person as law-abiding as herself but Gordon had pointed out that he knew the secret in their past. As a result, they had to maintain their friendship with him and make allowances for his irregular appearances on their doorstep. Oxley held the key to their continued existence under false names. They had to trust him as much as he clearly trusted them.

For that reason, she wanted to prevent any quarrel breaking out. By the time that they returned, she hoped, her husband’s ire would have subsided. Susanna was still going over details of their visit when her husband came back to the house. He waved the newspaper triumphantly in the air.

‘It’s pristine,’ he said. ‘I can catch up on almost a week of news that I missed. Martin hasn’t even looked at it yet. He’s had to go out at short notice. Rose said that we can keep the paper until he gets back.’

‘That’s kind of her.’

‘Such is the value of cultivating good neighbours, Susanna.’

‘Rose has a heart of gold,’ she said with a sigh. ‘There are times when I feel so guilty about having to deceive her and Martin.’

‘It’s not deception,’ he insisted. ‘We are Gordon and Susanna Younger now. We’ve grown into it and cast off our other identities like snakes shedding their skins.’

She pulled a face. ‘That’s a horrid comparison.’

‘Yet it’s an accurate one.’

As he settled down to read the paper, she reached for her embroidery. It was nearing completion now and she recalled how much and how wistfully Irene had admired it. Evidently, it was the sort of accomplishment she’d never had time to master. Putting the thimble in place, she extracted the needle and began work. She was soon interrupted. With a cry of horror, Gordon shook the paper.

‘This explains everything,’ he said.

‘What does?’

‘It’s a report of two policemen who were murdered in the Midlands. The police are hunting for two suspects – Jeremy Oxley and Irene Adnam.’ He was aghast. ‘We’re harbouring killers, Susanna.’

‘Irene was not involved, surely.’

‘According to this, she shot one man at close range.’

‘Dear God!’ she exclaimed.

‘No wonder he took my copy of The Times. He didn’t want me to see this. Now we know why they charged out of here.’

‘We must inform the police at once.’

‘Don’t be silly.’

‘It’s our duty, Gordon. They’re both guilty of murder.’

‘The same charge can be laid against me,’ he warned.

‘You released people from agony,’ she said. ‘That’s not murder.’

‘A jury would think otherwise. We have to be very careful, Susanna. If we start running to the police, our own secret will come out. That would be a catastrophe.’

‘Yet if we don’t report them, somebody else might. Martin and Rose must have seen them in the front garden.’

‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘but they don’t know their names. There’s a description of the pair of them here but it could apply to thousands of other people of their age. Martin and Rose are not suspicious. They’d never think that their neighbours were hiding two people on the run from the police.’

‘Let me read the article.’

‘You’d find it too disturbing.’

‘Did she really shoot a policeman?’

‘Irene also helped to throw the body of another out of a moving train. Jerry was under arrest and she planned his escape. Those are the people who’ve been sleeping under our roof as if they didn’t have a care in the world.’

Susanna let out a yelp. All the time they’d been talking, she’d been carrying on unthinkingly with her embroidery. As full realisation dawned, and as the faces of Oxley and Irene were conjured into her mind, she jabbed the needle into her hand by mistake and drew blood.

* * *

The letter was addressed to Colbeck but the superintendent had no hesitation in opening it. If it was relevant to the investigation, he wanted to see it immediately. When he read it through for the first time, he felt that it might be a hoax, but a second reading made him change his mind. It contained too many details that only Jeremy Oxley could know. The missive was genuine. Intended for Colbeck, it invited him to meet with the man he was trying to catch so that they could ‘discuss matters of mutual interest’. The phrase made Tallis snort. He looked up at Leeming.

‘Who brought this?’ he demanded.

‘A young lad,’ replied the other. ‘He said that a gentleman had given him sixpence to deliver it.’

‘Did you take the money off him?’

‘No, Superintendent – he’s done nothing wrong.’

‘He’s consorting with a wanted man.’

‘The lad wasn’t to know that. He was picked at random. You could hardly expect Oxley to slip it under the front door himself. That would be taking far too big a risk.’

‘I don’t need to be told that, Leeming.’

‘It proves one thing, sir – Oxley has read today’s paper. It’s just as Inspector Colbeck predicted. He’s been seized by panic. He’s given himself away by revealing that he’s actually in London.’ He took a step towards the desk. ‘May I have a look at it, please?’

Tallis dithered for a few moments then handed it over to him. Leeming read it through twice before passing judgement. He put the letter back on the desk.

‘It’s him, sir, no question about it. He’s issuing a challenge.’

‘Unfortunately, it’s to the inspector and he’s not here, is he? No, he went charging off to Coventry on a whim.’

‘He felt that there was evidence to be collected there.’

‘This is evidence,’ said Tallis, snatching up the letter. ‘It’s evidence that Jeremy Oxley is here in the capital with that murderous doxy of his. It’s evidence that he has the nerve to taunt us.’

‘I’m not sure about that,’ said Leeming, thoughtfully. ‘I didn’t get the feeling that he was taunting us. There’s a note of desperation there. Look at it, Superintendent. There are blots and squiggles everywhere. That letter was dashed off in haste by a man who is losing his nerve.’

Tallis glanced at it again. ‘You could be right,’ he conceded.

‘Inspector Colbeck has been after this man for many years. He knows how Oxley’s mind works. He’d be able to read between the lines of that letter.’

‘Well, he can’t do that from Coventry,’ said Tallis, waspishly. ‘It’s one feat beyond even his extraordinary powers. Oh, where is the man when we really need him?’ he continued, banging the desk. ‘And what was all that nonsense about a dark lady?’

‘I daresay that he’ll tell us when he returns.’

‘And when will that be, pray?’

‘He’ll no doubt catch the fastest train from Coventry, sir.’

‘Damnation!’ roared Tallis, hitting the desk again as if trying to split it asunder. ‘I want Colbeck here now!’

* * *

Coventry was a pleasant town that had retained much of its medieval flavour. Centuries earlier, it had been one of the largest communities outside London but its thriving cloth trade had declined somewhat and it had lost its pre-eminence. It was the home of over thirty thousand souls, a number that swelled on market days when people poured in from the surrounding villages. Colbeck enjoyed his walk through twisting streets lined with half-timbered houses that dripped with character. The Sherbourne Hotel, named after the river on whose bank it was sited, was of more recent construction, a solid and symmetrical edifice that offered its guests comfort, privacy, good food and excellent views.

Gwen Darker was the owner’s wife but, since he was now disabled by chronic arthritis, she had taken over the running of the hotel. She was a short woman in her fifties with a soaring bosom and surging backside that made her seem bigger. Impeccably groomed, she wore a dress of red velvet splashed with silver buttons. Coils of pearls hung around her neck. When Colbeck introduced himself, she was amazed that he’d come from London to see her immediately on receipt of her letter. Leaving her assistant to take over, she led her visitor into a private room.

‘May I offer you refreshment, Inspector?’ she said.

‘Later, perhaps,’ he replied. ‘First of all, I’d like to establish that the two people I’m pursuing did actually stay here.’

‘There’s not a flicker of doubt about that, Inspector. They were here less than a fortnight ago. As soon as I read the report in the newspaper, I recognised them – and so did my husband.’

‘Did they book in here as man and wife?’

‘Yes, they called themselves Mr and Mrs Salford.’

‘That’s a suburb of Manchester,’ noted Colbeck, ‘so I can guess why it was chosen. Irene Adnam hails from Manchester.’

‘She did sound as if she came from further north.’

‘How long did they stay here?’

‘Almost a week,’ said Gwen, proudly, ‘and I thought that was a compliment to us. I mean, you don’t stay long at a hotel unless it treats you well. They did say that they might come back again one day but, in view of what I know about them now, they’ll get no welcome at the Sherbourne.’

‘What was your impression of them, Mrs Darker?’

‘They seemed to be a nice, quiet, respectable couple. I usually know if people are not really married and reserve the right to turn them away if they ask for a double room. In their case, I had no qualms. They looked as if they’d grown into a true partnership, the way that only married couples do.’

‘I understand.’

‘We don’t allow impropriety here, Inspector. We conduct our business on sound Christian values and we’d hate to get a name as a place that permitted any licence.’

‘It’s why the hotel obviously has such a good reputation.’

Colbeck had noticed on arrival that the lounge was full of guests, all patently happy with the facilities on offer. Prices were quite steep but they were matched by exceptional service. The place was spotlessly clean, well appointed and efficiently run. To stay there almost a week, Oxley and Adnam must have been able to foot a substantial bill. When they were not engaged in criminal activities, he concluded, they could afford to live in a degree of luxury.

‘How well did you get to know them?’ he wondered.

‘We exchanged a few words each day,’ said Gwen, ‘but they were not very talkative. They liked to keep themselves to themselves. Mr Salford – or whatever his real name is – told us that he’d worked in a bank for many years.’

‘That’s one way of putting it,’ said Colbeck, wryly. ‘What he really meant was that he was closely acquainted with the banking system. To be more exact, Mrs Darker, Oxley is linked to at least three bank robberies.’

‘You’d never have guessed it by looking at him. He fooled me completely, but then, so did the young lady. I’d marked them down as a harmless couple, not as a pair of vicious killers.’

‘What did they do all day?’

‘They took the train to Birmingham a couple of times.’

‘Did they say why?’

‘They were moving on there when they left here and wanted to spy out a good hotel.’

‘So when they left here, they went on to Birmingham.’

‘Yes, they said they were visiting his relatives.’

‘Why didn’t they stay with them?’

‘There was no room, apparently. The house was too small. Besides, Mrs Salford – Irene Adnam, that is – confided to me that she preferred to stay in a hotel.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘That was the curious thing, Inspector.’

‘Go on,’ he encouraged.

‘Well, she treated me with respect, of course, but she did tend to order the staff around. It was almost as if she’d never dealt with servants before and wanted to make the most of it. She could be quite sharp with them at times.’

‘What else can you tell me about them, Mrs Darker?’

Gwen was an observant woman and was able to give Colbeck enough detail to make it absolutely certain of the real identity of her two guests. He was astonished to learn that they’d attended church on Sunday but less surprised to hear that Jeremy Oxley had been seen consulting a copy of Bradshaw. Railway timetables were as important to him as they were to Colbeck. Trains were his means of escape after a crime. He’d stayed in Coventry until the day before the robbery. Once he struck in Birmingham, he and Irene fled instantly with the takings. It was while he was in hiding in Wolverhampton that he’d been caught. Colbeck did not believe for a moment the claim that the couple were going to stay with Oxley’s relatives. They did not exist. As in all his previous robberies, he had chosen the right moment to make his move then ran swiftly away from the scene of the crime. It was a time-honoured pattern.

When she came to the end of her tale, Colbeck thanked her profusely and told her that the information she’d been able to give him had more than justified his visit to Coventry. Gwen was gratified. Horrified to have given accommodation to ruthless criminals, she was desperate to help somehow in their capture.

‘I’ll never forget her face,’ she said. ‘It was truly beautiful.’

Colbeck thought about Helen Millington, the woman whom Irene Adnam resembled in every way. He recalled the delicate loveliness of her features, the exquisite splendour of her hair and the honeyed softness of her voice. He could see her, hear her and inhale her fragrance. He could actually feel her presence.

‘Yes,’ he said at length. ‘She is beautiful – very beautiful.’

There was safety in numbers. As long as they were in a crowd, Oxley and Irene would not be recognised from the description in the newspapers. To passers-by, they looked like any other young middle-class couple, walking arm in arm along the pavement. When they adjourned to a restaurant, they found that the other diners were far too preoccupied with eating their food to take any notice of them. Irene began to voice her concerns.

‘What if the inspector doesn’t turn up?’ she asked.

‘He’ll be there,’ said Oxley with confidence. ‘Colbeck can’t resist a challenge.’

‘I thought you’d never met him.’

‘I haven’t. My case never came to court.’

‘Then how will you recognise him?’

‘He’s the dandy of Scotland Yard, by all accounts. I’ve seen it mentioned in newspaper reports. He likes to dress a little better than other detectives. Well, his days as a peacock will soon be over.’ He patted the gun concealed in his belt. ‘I’m going to put a bullet into Beau Brummell.’

‘I still think it’s too dangerous, Jerry.’

‘Leave the thinking to me.’

‘So many things could go wrong.’

‘Not if we hold our nerve. I thought we were already in the clear but I reckoned without Colbeck. Somehow the clever devil found out your name. All at once, I can hear his footsteps coming up behind us.’

‘So can I,’ she admitted. ‘I’m scared.’

Oxley made her drink some wine to steady herself, then he assured her that one decisive strike would be their salvation. Once the man leading the investigation had been killed, it would lose its shape and thrust. Nobody could replace Robert Colbeck. Irene was slowly convinced of the necessity of committing another murder. A second anxiety then came to the fore.

‘Gordon and Susanna will be upset at the way we left so abruptly,’ she said. ‘I feel embarrassed about going back there.’

‘I’ll smooth their ruffled feathers.’

‘What if they read today’s newspaper?’

‘They don’t have it anymore,’ he pointed out. ‘I took it with us and we know that they very rarely buy a paper. If they did, they’d already have seen that I was wanted by the police.’

‘They’re bound to suspect something, Jerry.’

‘They’ll keep their suspicions to themselves, Irene. They know what’s at stake. The law doesn’t condone euthanasia. Gordon is well aware of what will happen if he’s exposed as a killer. Susanna will be charged as his accessory.’

She pursed her lips. ‘I can’t say that I approve of what they did.’

‘Well, I do,’ he argued. ‘When I’m old and ailing and in constant pain, I’d love some kind doctor to put me out of my misery. What about your father? Didn’t you tell me that he’s failing badly and coughing up blood? Euthanasia might be the answer for him as well.’

‘I daren’t even think about it.’

‘We all have to die sometime.’

‘Let’s not talk about my father,’ she said, reaching for her wine again. ‘He’s always on my conscience.’

She might have added that Constable Arthur Wakeley was on her conscience as well but she didn’t want to admit it. Oxley was not only capable of shrugging off the murders he’d committed, he was calmly planning another. She wondered if she would ever acquire the same immunity to guilt.

‘Coming back to Gordon and Susanna,’ he said, ‘there’s one thing we must always remember. Gordon not only dispatched a number of wealthy old ladies to heaven, he got paid for doing so in their wills. He called it an incidental bonus. If he’d been so high-minded about what he was doing, he’d have refused the money.’

‘What are you saying, Jerry?’

‘For all his blather about performing a sacred duty, Gordon is really the same as us. He has clear criminal tendencies. He was quick to learn that there’s money in euthanasia.’

‘It’s helped them to lead an entirely new life.’

‘They’ll do nothing to jeopardise it, Irene,’ he told her. ‘That’s why you have no call to fret about them. They’d never report us – even if they saw me shoot Inspector Colbeck.’

Less than forty minutes after arriving at Coventry station, he was standing on the platform again. Colbeck’s was a distinctive figure and, as the train steamed in on time, its driver recognised him. A hand waved excitedly from the footplate and Colbeck knew that it must belong to his future father-in-law. Not wishing to delay the departure of the train by speaking to Andrews, he stepped into a compartment and spent the journey reflecting on what he had learnt from Gwen Darker. As the train finally reached its terminus, Colbeck walked briskly along the platform to the locomotive. Overjoyed to see him, Andrews introduced his fireman.

‘Don’t shake hands with him,’ he cautioned. ‘His hands are covered in coal dust.’

Sowerby grinned inanely. ‘So you’re the Railway Detective,’ he said in wonderment. ‘Have you caught them yet?’

‘We are well on the way to doing so,’ said Colbeck.

‘It all happened on our train, you know,’ said Andrews.

‘So Madeleine tells me.’

‘In a sense, we’re working on this case together.’

‘You’ve certainly been of great assistance today, Mr Andrews,’ said Colbeck, checking his watch. ‘You’ve brought the train in six minutes early.’

‘Caleb likes his beer at the end of the shift,’ said Sowerby with a chuckle. ‘That’s why we made such good time.’

‘I don’t suppose you’d like to join us?’ invited Andrews.

‘I’d like to,’ said Colbeck, ‘but duty calls. I have two important visits to make this evening.’

After chatting with them for a couple of minutes, he took his leave and picked up a cab outside the station. What he hadn’t told Andrews was that his first port of call was a certain house in Camden. He got the usual rapturous welcome from Madeleine. Drawing him into the house, she fired a whole series of questions at him. He had to raise both hands to stem the interrogation.

‘I can’t answer everything at once,’ he said. ‘Suffice it to say that we are making headway with the case, so much so that I was able to spurn a very tempting offer of help.’

‘Help from whom?’ She saw the twinkle in his eye. ‘Have you been talking to Father?’

‘It was the other way around, Madeleine. He happened to be driving the train I caught in Coventry. I had a discussion with him when we got to Euston. Apparently, he has a theory about Irene Adnam, though it’s not one that I particularly want to hear.’

‘Father is always having theories about something.’

‘What he did tell me is that his retirement has been finalised.’

‘He’ll be here permanently in a matter of weeks.’

‘Then we must create a studio for you in my house,’ he said, correcting himself at once with an apologetic smile. ‘I should have said our house. It belongs to both of us now.’

‘I’ll only feel that when we’re actually married.’

He took her in his arms again and held her close. It was only now that he realised just how he’d missed her. In pursuit of one woman – and haunted by the memory of another – he’d allowed Madeleine to slip to the back of his mind. Sweeping off his hat, he kissed away the long hours since he’d last seen her, then he flicked his eyes at the easel.

‘Is your new masterpiece ready for display yet?’

‘It’s not a masterpiece, Robert, and it’s not yet ready.’

‘I do envy you your creative talent,’ he said. ‘There are times when I feel my work is dull and pedestrian by comparison.’

‘That’s nonsense!’ she retaliated. ‘I love art dearly but the world could manage very easily without my paintings. You, on the other hand, are indispensable. Think how many villains would still be walking the streets if you hadn’t caught them.’

‘It’s slow, methodical work with nothing creative about it.’

She was dismayed. ‘Does that mean you’re losing your appetite for it?’

‘Not in the slightest,’ he said, quickly. ‘I’m privileged to be doing a job that I enjoy above all else. There are just occasional moments when I would like to hang something on a wall that I’d painted myself, or open a book that I’d written, or hum a tune that I’d managed to compose. I’d like to do one thing that was startlingly original.’

She giggled. ‘Apart from marrying me, you mean?’

‘That will be my greatest achievement.’

‘And mine,’ she said, hugging him tight. ‘But if you really want to be an artist, I can give you a few lessons at no cost whatsoever.’

‘I believe in repaying a kindness, Madeleine. If you teach me, I’ll promise to give you some lessons of my own.’ He ran a gentle finger down her nose. ‘Then we can attain a degree of artistry together.’

Tallis had read the letter so often that he knew it by heart. It was a temptation he was finding hard to resist. Although it was directed at Colbeck, he felt that it should more properly have been sent to him as the senior investigating officer. Oxley wanted to make contact. The letter was quite specific about that. It was so important for him that he was even prepared to break cover and disclose his whereabouts. It was a chance too good to miss. Instead of trailing the man all over the country, Tallis was being offered the opportunity to catch him here in London. Some kind of trap would be involved. He knew that. But he was relying on his experience to be able to anticipate and thereby avoid the trap. In pursuit of glory, he was ready to accept all the hazards. Colbeck would have taken up the challenge implicit in the letter and that is what Tallis resolved to do. For once in his life, he would overshadow his illustrious colleague.

There was a tap on the door. When it opened, Peebles came in.

‘You sent for me, sir?’ he enquired.

‘I need you to accompany me, Constable.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘We are going to arrest Jeremy Oxley,’ said Tallis, grandly. He handed the letter to Peebles. ‘You had better read this.’

The constable did so, his brow furrowing with surprise.

‘Is this genuine, Superintendent?’

‘I believe so.’

‘By rights, Inspector Colbeck should respond to it.’

‘I’d be happy for him to do so if it were not for the fact that he is gallivanting around the country on trains. An exact time has been set for the meeting. As Colbeck is not here, someone else has to go.’

‘What about Sergeant Leeming?’

‘I have decided to take the responsibility on myself, Constable, and I am ordering you to come with me. There will be danger, of course, but that is ever present when one wears an army uniform. As a result, I’m impervious to fear and so, I hope, are you.’

‘Lead on, sir. I’ll follow wherever you go.’

Peebles was thrilled to be given such a task. There were many other detectives on whom Tallis might have called. Instead, he had picked out the newest of them. It was an exciting assignment and he was already relishing the pleasure of telling his beloved about it when he and Catherine were together again. She would be so proud of him. It never crossed his mind that Tallis was deliberately ignoring Leeming and the other detectives because they would object to doing something that was exclusively the right of Robert Colbeck.

* * *

Oxley had chosen the venue with care. It was at the end of a quiet road that was as straight as an arrow. From his hiding place among the trees, he had a clear view and could easily escape to a waiting cab if he saw that his demands were not being met. Colbeck had to come alone. That was his requirement. Apart from anything else, he wanted to meet the person who’d been stalking him for so many years. The pistol was loaded and hidden from view. All that he had to do was to get his target close enough to be able to kill him.

Crouched beside him, Irene was ready to beat a retreat.

‘He’s not coming, Jerry.’

‘Give him time.’

‘It’s past the hour already,’ she said. ‘Maybe the inspector didn’t even get your message. Maybe he wasn’t at Scotland Yard.’

‘You saw what it said in the newspaper. The police appealed to the public for help. Inspector Colbeck would have been waiting to sift any information that came in. He was there, believe me.’

‘Then where is he now?’

‘He’ll come soon, Irene.’

Even as he spoke, a tall figure of a man came round the corner and walked towards them. Both stiffened and Oxley put a hand on the gun. But it was a false alarm. Instead of continuing his walk, the man suddenly turned into a doorway, took out a key and let himself into the house. Oxley relaxed but Irene’s tension remained.

‘What if he brings a lot of policemen with him?’ she said.

‘He’s not stupid enough to do that. In any case, we’d see them long before they saw us. We’d have time to vanish into thin air.’

‘Not if the policemen were mounted,’ she argued. ‘They could run us down, Jerry. We’re taking too big a risk.’

‘I know Colbeck – he’ll come alone.’

‘But you’ve never even seen him before.’

‘That’s why I’m so anxious to make his acquaintance, brief as it’s destined to be. This man is the difference between freedom and arrest, Irene. I can’t stress that enough. When he’s been disposed of, we can breathe easily once more.’

‘I can’t breathe at all at the moment,’ she confessed.

‘All you have to do is to stay here and keep quiet.’

They stiffened again as two figures appeared at the end of the road. Oxley took a long, hard look at both of them before making his decision. One of them had to be Colbeck. He had come, after all.

Tallis and Peebles had walked in step side by side. Not long after turning the corner, however, they came to a halt so that they could survey the scene. They were looking along a tree-lined road with houses on both sides. If an ambush had been set, an attacker could be hiding in a variety of places. Yet Tallis sensed no immediate danger. It was unlikely that Oxley had access to any of the houses and, in any case, the trees would impede any shots that were fired. With a steady stride, they walked on, eyes darting from one side of the road to another. They’d gone fifty yards before Tallis spoke.

‘Where the blazes is the fellow?’ he asked.

‘Perhaps he changed his mind, sir.’

‘He nominated this place and this time. Oxley must be here somewhere yet I can see neither hide nor hair of him.’

‘Neither can I, Superintendent,’ said Peebles as they walked on. ‘But I’m starting to get the feeling that we’re being watched.’

Tallis looked around. ‘From which direction?’

‘I’m not sure.’

‘I don’t see anyone.’

‘The feeling is getting stronger. He’s definitely here.’

‘Then why doesn’t he show himself?’

‘Stop there!’ yelled a voice and they came to a dead halt.

‘Is that you, Oxley?’ shouted Tallis. ‘Come out into the open.’

‘Be quiet! I’ll only talk to Inspector Colbeck.’

‘I’m his superior.’

‘I don’t care. Tell the inspector to come forward.’

‘He’s mistaken you for Colbeck,’ whispered Tallis.

‘What am I to do?’ asked Peebles.

‘Pretend that you are. We can’t miss an opportunity like this.’

‘Are you coming or are you not?’ taunted Oxley.

‘He’s coming,’ returned Tallis aloud. Out of the side of his mouth, he spoke to Peebles. ‘Beware of tricks, Constable.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said the other.

Straightening his shoulders, he walked forward towards the trees at the end of the road, scanning the houses as he did so. Oxley’s voice seemed to have come from ahead of him rather than from either side but he was taking no chances. Tallis was now thirty yards behind him and in no position to offer help. Peebles was entirely alone. Yet he showed no alarm. He did what he imagined Colbeck would do in the same circumstances. He remained alert and moved calmly on. When he got close to the end of the road, he was stopped by a command.

‘That’s far enough!’ yelled Oxley.

‘Show yourself.’

‘I’ll give the orders, Inspector. I’ve come to strike a bargain.’

‘What kind of bargain?’

‘I want to ensure my continued freedom.’

‘That’s something I can’t guarantee, Mr Oxley. You are Jeremy Oxley, aren’t you?’ he went on. ‘I’m beginning to have doubts about that, you see. I heard that you were a brave and daring man and not someone too scared to show his face. Come back when you pluck up more courage.’

Turning on his heel, Peebles made as if to walk away.

‘Stay where you are!’ bellowed Oxley, coming into view. Peebles stopped again and turned to face him. ‘I’m afraid of nobody on this earth, Inspector.’

‘Not even the hangman?’

Oxley laughed. ‘He’ll have no appointment with me. My bargain is this. Call off your dogs and I undertake to leave the country. That way you get rid of Jeremy Oxley for good.’

‘That’s quite unacceptable,’ said Peebles, evenly. ‘The time has come for you to answer for your crimes. I’d advise you to surrender quietly while you still may.’

‘I never surrender,’ said Oxley, moving slowly forward. ‘You should know that by now, Inspector. You’ve chased me long enough.’

Peebles kept his composure and waited for the moment to pounce. The army had taught him how to overpower an assailant and he had every confidence that he could subdue Oxley even if the man pulled a knife on him. He could see a hand hovering to grab something from under his coat. Peebles knew that he had to strike first. When Oxley was only five yards away, therefore, the constable suddenly came to life and flung himself at the man with his arms outstretched. Oxley was ready for him. Whipping out the pistol, he fired it at the detective’s heart from close range. Peebles got hands around him but they had no strength in them now. The wound was fatal. His body shuddered, his eyes were glassy and his mouth was wide open in disbelief. Life slipping away, he slumped to the ground with his waistcoat sodden with blood. His top hat rolled into the gutter. His impersonation of Colbeck was over.

Watching from a distance, Tallis was horror-struck. Torn between rage and grief, he lumbered forward as fast as he could but he was far too slow. By the time he reached the lifeless body of Ian Peebles, he saw that there was nothing he could do. Oxley had disappeared into the trees and, as he bent over his fallen colleague, Tallis heard the distant sound of a cab being driven away. He was in an absolute torment of remorse. In taking Peebles with him, he had effectively signed the young detective’s death warrant.

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.’

CHAPTER TWELVE

Gordon and Susanna Younger felt utterly humiliated. Under the searching gaze of Robert Colbeck, they were perched side by side on their sofa like a pair of enormous birds. Their lies had been swiftly exposed. They were known to have offered sanctuary to fugitives from the law. Their only hope lay in pleading ignorance of the crimes committed by Oxley and Irene. If they could portray themselves as innocent victims rather than accomplices, they might yet escape imprisonment. They did have one shred of comfort. When he realised that the suspects had fled, Colbeck had sent the two policemen off in search of them. It spared the Youngers further embarrassment. As their neighbours woke to a new morning, they would not look across and see telltale uniforms outside the home of their friends. How long it would remain the Youngers’ home, of course, was debatable.

Colbeck had searched the whole house before he was ready to question them. The long wait gave time for their fears to intensify. When he finally sat before them, he was in no mood for evasion.

‘Let me make one thing clear before we start,’ he said. ‘You tried to mislead me on your doorstep. If you lie to me again, I’ll arrest you at once and we’ll continue this interview at Scotland Yard. Is that understood?’

‘Yes, Inspector,’ said Younger, guiltily.

‘What about you, Mrs Younger?’

‘We’ll tell the truth,’ promised Susanna.

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Colbeck. ‘And bear in mind that I’ll be talking to both of your servants in a while. If you say something that they are unable to confirm, then I’ll know you deceived me.’ He took out a pad and pencil to make notes. ‘How long were they here?’

‘A few days,’ said Younger.

‘Did they come by invitation?’

‘No, Inspector, they turned up out of the blue.’

‘And why did they do that?’

‘Jerry Oxley was an old friend from the days when we lived in Yorkshire. We … kept in touch from time to time.’

‘Were you aware that he had a criminal record?’

‘We were not.’

‘He’s reputed to dress well and live in some style. Where did you imagine that his money came from?’

‘He mentioned an inheritance at one point.’

‘That could be a play on words, I suppose,’ said Colbeck, dryly. ‘If you rob somebody, then – technically – you inherit their money. Had either of you met Irene Adnam before?’ They shook their heads. ‘What did you think when Oxley arrived unexpectedly?’

‘It was typical of his behaviour.’

‘You didn’t mind?’

‘One makes allowances for old friends,’ said Younger.

‘In this case, I fancy, you made incredible allowances. You offered shelter to two dangerous criminals, both of whom were named in the newspapers yesterday, as you must have noticed.’

‘We rarely read newspapers, Inspector.’

‘I certainly couldn’t find any when I looked around.’

‘They’re always full of such dire news.’

‘Today’s editions will be especially dire,’ said Colbeck. ‘They will report the murder of my former colleague.’

‘I swear that we knew nothing about that, Inspector.’

‘We never wanted to know what Jerry did,’ Susanna blurted out. ‘It was none of our business. Until this time, we hadn’t seen him for almost two years. He seldom wrote to us. We had no idea where he was or what he was doing.’

‘That’s perhaps just as well, Mrs Younger,’ observed Colbeck. ‘Had you known the full record of his villainy, you couldn’t have tolerated him under your roof for a second.’

‘I’m glad you understand that, Inspector.’

‘We are law-abiding people,’ said Younger, earnestly. ‘Ask any of our neighbours. Or speak to the vicar – he’s keen for me to take over as churchwarden next year. I’m happy to accept the position. Does that sound like the action of someone who consorts with criminals?’

‘No, sir,’ replied Colbeck, ‘but it might interest you to know that days before they robbed a shop in Birmingham, your erstwhile guests attended church in Coventry. Even criminals are prone to religious promptings at times.’ He scrutinised Younger’s face. ‘You appear to be living in retirement, sir.’

‘That’s right. I was an archaeologist for many years but my knees finally gave out. It’s a noble profession but a dig does involve a lot of hard manual work. I restrict myself to writing the occasional article on the subject.’

‘Yes, I noticed the books in your study. Several were about archaeology. But when I went back for a closer look, I saw that most of them were medical textbooks. That’s an odd hobby. Do you have medical training, by any chance?’

There was a pause. ‘No,’ said Younger at length, forced back on deceit, ‘but my father did. He was a doctor in Bradford and, when he died, he bequeathed the books to me.’

‘What was his name?’

‘Why do you ask that, Inspector?’

‘Well, when people buy expensive books, they usually write their names in them, so I’d expect to find a Dr Younger. Yet when I glanced inside one tome, the name inscribed there was Dr Philip Oldfield.’

‘That was the original owner,’ said Younger, quickly. ‘My father bought the book second hand.’

‘Then he would surely have crossed out the name of the previous owner and replaced it with his own.’ Colbeck leant forward. ‘I’m a curious man, sir. It’s an occupational hazard. The truth is that I looked inside the covers of half-a-dozen of the medical books. Every one of them had Oldfield’s name inside. It seems that your father specialised in buying books from the fellow.’ His voice darkened. ‘Unless, of course, there’s another explanation …’

Younger said nothing but his face was expressive. Susanna looked even guiltier than he did, shifting her position and clenching her fists. A nervous smile brushed her lips.

‘I put it to you, sir,’ said Colbeck with assurance, ‘that you are Dr Oldfield and that, for some reason, you decided to be reborn as a younger man with a preference for archaeology. I’m intrigued to know why the counterfeit was necessary. When a man changes his name and invents a new profession for himself, he must have something to hide.’ He gave Younger a shrewd look. ‘What is it?’

Victor Leeming was bored. He’d been left at Willesden in case the fugitives eluded Colbeck and made their way to the station. Had they seen a uniformed policeman waiting there, they would have been alerted, whereas the sight of Leeming in plain clothes would not have forewarned them. The station was a small, featureless place with a few posters to divert him and a tiny kiosk that sold newspapers, books and other items that passengers might need. After a lengthy and unproductive wait, Leeming bought a newspaper and read the account of the murder of Ian Peebles. It had been drafted by Edward Tallis and copies had been sent to various editors. Leeming found no new details in it. As he read on, he felt a surge of grief at the death of their young fellow detective. Excessively proud to work alongside Colbeck and Leeming, Peebles had had his career terminated before it had really begun.

Another career had been brought to an end in the shooting and it was a much longer and more celebrated one. As a result of his action in exposing Peebles to danger, Tallis had resigned. It was a hugely significant act. At the very moment when the superintendent had announced his intentions, Leeming had experienced a sense of sheer joy. The man who’d terrified him for so many years was leaving Scotland Yard altogether. Two thoughts qualified his joy. The first was that Tallis would be a great loss to the police force. Fearsome as he could be, he was an efficient administrator and worked assiduously to improve the performance of those under him.

However, it was the second reservation that unnerved Leeming and made him wish that Tallis might, after all, stay in his job. If the superintendent left, the obvious candidate to replace him was Robert Colbeck. That would rob Leeming of the finest partner with whom he’d worked as well as his closest friend. Colbeck was at his best out in the field. Shackled to a desk and directing others, his talents would be wasted. The mistake that Tallis had made was to think that he could act just as decisively as Colbeck. He’d wanted to be an alternative Railway Detective and learnt that he was unfitted for the role. By the same token, Leeming felt, Colbeck would be a poor imitation of the superintendent. Each man needed the other in his present position. Reluctantly, Leeming accepted that Edward Tallis must somehow be persuaded to reconsider his decision to resign.

The approach of a trap made him get to his feet and walk to the exit. He saw one of the vehicles hired earlier and containing the two policemen. Leeming went across to them.

‘Did you catch him?’ he asked.

‘No,’ said one of the men, ‘he did a moonlight flit. We searched everywhere for him. He stole a horse and cart from a nearby farm but we’ve no idea where he went with it.’

‘What about Inspector Colbeck?’

‘He’s still at the house, talking to the owners.’

It was unkind and discourteous of him but for Colbeck it was a means to an end. In deliberately keeping his suspects in their dressing gowns, he deprived them of their camouflage and their nerve. Having found it in the wardrobe in the guest room, he also waved Oxley’s bloodstained waistcoat in front of them. It weakened what little resolve they still had. Faced with his probing, Gordon and Susanna had soon capitulated. They not only talked honestly about their guests’ brief stay with them, they divulged their real names and their reason for leaving Bradford. On searching for one set of fugitives, Colbeck had stumbled on another. He was astounded at the way Dr and Mrs Oldfield had maintained their new identities so successfully. They’d been Gordon and Susanna Younger for so long that they’d come to believe that that was who they really were. The vicar who’d approached Gordon to be churchwarden was in for a terrible shock.

Anna Oldfield, as she’d once been, said that she knew they’d be found out one day and that there was an element of relief in it. Her husband, however, took a very different stance, arguing that a doctor’s first duty was to relieve pain and that, if someone found life itself intolerably painful, he was justified in releasing that person from agony. Colbeck let him state his case before reminding him how his actions would be viewed in a court of law. As an accessory, his wife also had to prepare herself for a harsh sentence.

When he’d squeezed what he wanted out of them, Colbeck let them get dressed and eat a final breakfast at the house. He joined them at the table. Over a cup of coffee, he searched for more detail.

‘You say that Oxley kept on the move,’ he noted.

‘Yes,’ replied Oldfield, ‘that’s how he evaded arrest. Jerry had a sybaritic streak, Inspector. He was very fond of staying at hotels where he could be waited on hand and foot.’

‘Did he ever mention the names of any hotels?’

‘Not that I can recall.’

‘Jerry didn’t,’ said Anna, ‘but Irene did. It was when she and I were sitting in the garden one day. She confided to me how exciting it was to be with Jerry. He’d introduced her to a different world.’

‘Yes,’ said Colbeck, ‘one in which she’d have to kill someone.’ He raised a hand. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt you, Mrs Oldfield.’

She was startled. ‘It’s such a long time since I was called that.’

‘You were going to name a hotel.’

‘It was one in which they’d stayed not long ago and Irene said it was the most luxurious she’d ever known.’

‘Where exactly was it?’

‘Somewhere in Coventry.’

‘Then you’ve no need to say any more,’ Colbeck told her. ‘I’ve actually visited that establishment. It’s the Sherbourne Hotel.’

Irene was rocked. She’d never known Oxley make mistakes before yet he had now made three in succession. In retrospect, the move to London had been a grave error on his part. She had accepted the logic of it because Oxley had been so persuasive. It was their first mistake. The second had been his attempt to kill Inspector Colbeck. Having taken the trouble to choose an ideal location for the murder, Oxley had sent a note to Scotland Yard in the firm belief that it would draw the detective out into the open. In order to bait Colbeck, he’d included a reference to Helen Millington. In the end, however, the plan had turned into a fiasco. The wrong man had been shot and Colbeck remained alive to pursue them.

It was the third mistake that stunned Irene. Insisting that they were in no danger of being recognised from their descriptions in the newspapers, he suggested that they might recuperate at the Coventry hotel where they’d had such good service. Desperate for somewhere to rest, she’d agreed wholeheartedly. It was a fateful decision. Irene would never forget the look in Gwen Darker’s eyes as they stepped across the threshold of the hotel. She knew exactly who Mr and Mrs Salford really were and, in a carrying voice, ordered one of her staff to summon a policeman. Oxley and Irene had to take to their heels.

They were now at a hotel in Crewe, a railway junction that would allow them to escape, if the need arose, in one of various directions. To avoid being seen together, they checked in separately. Oxley waited until the coast was clear then joined her in her room. There was a frantic embrace.

‘I’m frightened, Jerry,’ she said.

‘You’ve no need to be.’

‘You keep saying that but it’s not true. Look what happened in Coventry. That manageress recognised us. She’ll tell the police and they’ll get into contact with Inspector Colbeck.’

‘But they’ll have no idea where we are.’

‘I wonder.’

He pulled her closer. ‘Stop worrying, will you?’ he said. ‘You never used to do this, Irene. We’ve had narrow shaves before and you found it exhilarating. Why get upset because Mrs Darker worked out who we must be?’

‘If she can do it, Jerry, so can someone else.’

‘Only if we’re seen together and we’ll move around separately from now on. The police are hunting for a couple, not for two single individuals. Wherever we stay, we’ll have different rooms.’

‘But I want to be with you,’ she pleaded.

‘You will be, Irene – all night long.’

‘This is starting to get me down,’ she admitted.

‘I know,’ he said, kissing her and starting to unbutton her dress. ‘I have just the cure for that.’

‘I keep thinking about Gordon and Susanna. What are they going to say when they realise that we ran away from them?’

‘I hope they have the sense to say nothing but I can’t guarantee that. Anyway, you can forget them. There’s no chance whatever of Inspector Colbeck finding out where we stayed in London.’ Undoing the last button, Oxley slipped his hand inside the dress to caress her breast. ‘He’ll still be chasing his tail at Scotland Yard.’

Victor Leeming was flabbergasted at the turn of events. When they followed the trail to Willesden, the last thing he envisaged was that they would arrest two people wanted by the Bradford Borough Police for a series of so-called mercy killings. On the train journey back to London with them, he thought that they were being arrested for having sheltered two killers. It was only when Philip and Anna Oldfield were in custody that he learnt of their criminal past. Leeming was staggered by the number of victims involved.

‘There were over a dozen?’ he gasped, eyes bulging. ‘I’m glad that he was never my doctor.’

‘The patients all seem to have been elderly women who begged him to rescue them from their misery. Oldfield still refuses to accept that he was committing a crime.’

‘It was murder, pure and simple.’

‘That’s not how he describes it,’ said Colbeck. ‘He claims that he spared them horrid, lingering deaths. I must write to the police in Bradford. After all this time, they’ll be grateful to get their hands on Dr and Mrs Oldfield again. It’s their case, Victor, and not ours. We have other fish to fry.’

‘I’d call Oxley more of a shark than a fish, sir.’

‘He certainly has a shark’s viciousness.’

‘He kills anyone who gets in his way.’

They were in Colbeck’s office at Scotland Yard, reviewing the day’s developments. Ordinarily, the inspector would have reported to Tallis as soon as he entered the building. That was no longer possible because his superior had resigned. He left behind him a feeling of emptiness. When Colbeck glanced in the direction of Tallis’s office, Leeming read his mind.

‘I don’t think that the superintendent should leave,’ he said.

‘Neither do I,’ said Colbeck.

‘It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? There have been hundreds of times when I’ve wished him out of here, yet the moment he does go, I miss him. He did his job well even if it meant yelling at me whenever I got within earshot of him.’

‘I don’t think his resignation will be accepted, Victor.’

‘If he wants to go, nobody can stop Mr Tallis.’

‘I’m hoping to talk him out of it.’

‘How can you do that?’ asked Leeming. ‘He was so shocked by what happened. Because they’d both been in the army, he looked on Ian Peebles with especial favour. I’m ashamed to say that I thought he’d never make the grade at first.’

‘He won’t get the opportunity to do so now, Victor. We just have to make sure that he didn’t die in vain,’ said Colbeck, ‘and the way to do that is to call Jeremy Oxley to account. Unlike Dr Oldfield, he can’t pass off his murders as mercy killings.’

‘You’re in complete control now, sir.’

‘That rather unnerves me. It feels wrong somehow.’

‘Will you draft in someone to replace Constable Peebles?’

‘No, I think that we can manage on our own.’

‘As acting superintendent, you’ll have several detectives to deploy and lots of other cases to supervise.’

Colbeck was adamant. ‘I’m still an inspector,’ he said, ‘and I intend to remain so for the foreseeable future. One thing I won’t do is to relinquish my part in this investigation. I owe it to Constable Peebles to pursue our enquiries with vigour. In a sense, he died in place of me. That leaves me with a sense of obligation.’

‘It’s the young lady I keep thinking about,’ said Leeming, sadly. ‘He talked so fondly of her – Catherine, her name was. It’s a tragedy. All their plans have suddenly turned to dust. He told me that the banns of marriage were being read for the first time next month.’

‘That would have been a very special moment.’

‘It was for me and Estelle. I was shaking with fear. When the vicar asked if anyone had just cause or impediment why we shouldn’t be joined together in holy matrimony, I was terrified that someone would jump up and spoil everything.’

‘They’d have had no reason to do so.’

‘That didn’t stop me worrying,’ said Leeming. ‘I suppose that the truth of it is that I never felt good enough for Estelle. I never believed that I deserved a wife as wonderful as her, so I kept waiting for someone to step in and take her away from me.’

‘Your fears were groundless. Anyone who’s seen the two of you together knows that you’re ideally suited.’

‘I still thank God every day for my good fortune. With a face like mine, I thought I’d be lucky to attract any woman, yet I finished up with a beautiful wife.’ He laughed with delight. ‘But I do remember sitting through the banns with my hands shaking. It was a test of nerves, I can tell you. Well,’ he added, ‘you’ll find that out for yourself, sir. When are your banns being read for the first time?’

Colbeck was taken aback. The question was innocent enough yet it left him befuddled. The truth was that he hadn’t given the matter any thought at all. Since the killer of Helen Millington had reappeared in his life after so many years, everything else had been pushed to the back of his mind. It was unfair on those close to him. They’d been neglected. Talk of marriage had reminded him of his engagement to Madeleine and he felt more than a twinge of guilt at the way he’d kept postponing a decision about the date of the wedding.

‘That’s yet to be decided,’ he said, evasively.

‘I think that you and Miss Andrews are a perfect match, sir.’

‘Thank you, Victor. I like to think that as well.’

‘Dirk Sowerby is still on about it,’ moaned Andrews. ‘He has this daft idea of sailing across the seven seas on a steamship.’

‘What’s so daft about it?’ she asked.

‘It will never happen, Maddy. He can’t afford it on his pay.’

‘Everyone is entitled to dream.’

‘It’s not a dream, it’s sheer nonsense. It just won’t happen.’

‘You never know, Father. Look at me. I used to think about marrying Robert one day but I never really believed that my dream would ever come true. Yet, against all the odds, it did.’

‘That’s because you’re very special, Maddy – Dirk is not.’

‘You’re being unfair on him. Last week you were telling me what a good driver he’ll make.’

‘It’s only because I taught him all he knows.’

‘Stop mocking his ambitions.’

‘I like to tease him. What harm is there in that?’

Andrews had returned home that evening in a jovial mood. It was not simply because he’d been drinking with his friends. As his retirement got ever nearer, he was coming to see the benefits that it would bring. He could still visit his favourite pub of an evening but he would no longer have to get up early the next morning to begin work again. A yoke would suddenly be removed from his neck. When they finished supper, he touched on a subject he’d raised before.

‘How would you feel if I was to get wed again, Maddy?’

She blinked. ‘Do you have someone in mind, Father?’

‘I might and I might not.’

‘Well, I’m not going to object, if that’s what you’re asking. You’re old enough to make your own decisions.’

‘It would be different if you were still here,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t feel it was right to bring another woman into the house. But when you’re gone and I have the place to myself, I may get lonely.’

‘Do you want to be married again?’

‘I do and I don’t.’

‘Stop going around in circles,’ she chided. ‘I might and I might not. I do and I don’t. I can and I can’t. If you start playing that game, we could be here all night.’

He cackled. ‘I simply wanted your opinion, Maddy.’

‘Then my opinion is that no woman would be misguided enough to take you on,’ she said, jokingly. ‘You’re too set in your ways and you’re too cantankerous. Why should anyone even look at you?’

‘Your mother did.’

‘You were a lot younger then.’

‘Love is nothing to do with age, Maddy. It can happen to us whether we’re seventeen or seventy. In fact, I fancy it goes deeper when you’re more mature. You’ve learnt how to appreciate it by then.’ She narrowed her eyelids. ‘Why are you staring at me like that?’

‘There’s something you’re not telling me, Father.’

‘Is there?’

‘I think you’ve met someone.’

‘I have and I haven’t. That’s to say,’ he added quickly to still her protest, ‘I’ve seen someone who aroused my interest. It’s nothing more nor less than that, I swear it. I just wanted to sound you out. When we’ve spoken about this before, there was a lot of bravado in what I was claiming. It’s different now. I’m serious.’

‘Then I’ll give you a serious answer,’ she said, affectionately. ‘I want you to be happy. If the best way to achieve happiness is to get married again, then I’m very much in favour of it.’ She smiled. ‘I wondered why you started coming to church more often. It’s someone in the congregation, isn’t it?’

‘Wait and see.’

‘Don’t be so coy about it.’

‘I’m just being practical,’ he said. ‘It’s pointless of me to think about my wedding when we still haven’t had yours. It’s only when you’ve left that the house will start to feel empty. That’s when I’ll need companionship, Maddy.’

‘Robert and I will set the date very soon.’

‘I think you should read today’s paper before you say that.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘This case will take longer than you think. The man they’re after has killed again. Yesterday evening, he shot one of the detectives helping the inspector.’ She rushed into the other room and snatched up the newspaper. ‘Don’t worry – it’s not Sergeant Leeming.’

‘Then who is it?’ she asked, anxiously.

‘It was someone named Peebles.’

Tallis had always been a religious man. The Bible was his guide and he read a passage from it every day. In times of stress, he would always slip into church to pray for help and to get spiritual support. Head bowed low, he was on his knees now, pleading for forgiveness. Convinced that he was responsible for the death of Ian Peebles, he singled out pride as his besetting sin. It had blinded him to his shortcomings. He’d been too proud to admit that he had any failings and believed that he could emulate and even surpass Robert Colbeck. That myth had been shattered when he knelt over the corpse. Tallis now knew that he had profound limitations both as a man and as a detective. Given the facts, most of his colleagues would lay the blame squarely on him. Their silent disapproval was nothing compared to the way that he condemned himself. He was suffering.

He prayed hard until his knees began to ache. Hauling himself upright, he stepped into the aisle, inclined his head towards the altar then quietly left the church. On the walk back to his lodging, he was deep in thought. When he reached the house, therefore, he did not at first notice the figure standing outside it. Colbeck had to step right in front of him to get his attention.

‘Good day to you, sir,’ he said.

Tallis gave a start. ‘What are you doing here, Colbeck?’

‘I came to talk to you.’

‘I’m not in a talkative vein.’

‘There have been some important developments.’

‘They don’t concern me any longer,’ said Tallis, flicking a dismissive hand. ‘I’ve resigned from my post.’

‘That’s not strictly true, sir. When I spoke to the commissioner, he told me that he’d refused to accept your resignation and that he’d asked you to take time off in order to think again.’

‘I have thought again and my decision stands.’

‘There may be factors you haven’t taken into account.’

‘I blundered, Colbeck, that’s the only factor relevant.’

‘I disagree, Superintendent.’

‘And you can stop calling me that,’ said Tallis, testily. ‘It’s a title that I’ve surrendered. I’m just an ordinary citizen now.’

‘Not in my estimation,’ said Colbeck. He looked around. ‘Need we have this conversation in the street?’

‘There’s no need to have it at all.’

‘Have you already discussed it with someone else, then?’

‘No,’ conceded Tallis. ‘Apart from the commissioner, I haven’t confided in anyone. There’s no point in any discussion when my mind is so firmly made up.’

‘I think there’s every point, sir.’

It took Colbeck another ten minutes to persuade Tallis to invite him in. He’d never been there before and was interested to see where and how his superior lived. Tallis occupied the first floor of a large Georgian house in a square with a park at its centre enclosed by iron railings. As they entered the well-proportioned living room, Colbeck was surprised to see so much evidence of the older man’s religious devotion. There was a crucifix on one wall, marble angels at either end of the mantelpiece and three paintings of scenes from the New Testament. A leather-bound Bible stood on the desk in the window.

The air of piety was offset by an array of military memorabilia. There was a display cabinet filled with medals and small weaponry, a collection of sabres hanging on the walls and, in a dominant position over the fireplace, a portrait of the Duke of Wellington, the soldier Tallis most revered. A tall oak bookcase contained a few books on aspects of Christianity but it was largely given over to histories of various battles and the memoirs of those who’d fought in them. War, religion and the pursuit of criminals had been enough for Tallis. He sought nothing else from life.

Though he waved his visitor to a wing chair, Tallis offered him no refreshment. It was a signal that Colbeck would not be staying long. He was there on sufferance. Tallis sat opposite him, his features set in a permanent scowl. It was as if he were daring Colbeck to begin so that he could deny his request.

‘I’ve come of my own volition,’ said Colbeck. ‘I’m not here on behalf of anyone else – except Constable Peebles, that is.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I think that you should bear him in mind, sir.’

Tallis was stung. ‘How dare you!’ he cried. ‘Peebles has never been out of my mind. Since his death yesterday evening, I’ve thought about nothing else.’

‘Then why are you turning your back on him?’

‘I’m doing nothing of the kind, man.’

‘Yes, you are,’ argued Colbeck. ‘If you feel culpable for his death, you should feel an impulse to avenge it. In your shoes, I know that I would. Yet you’re actually walking away from the case. You are, in effect, letting his killer go free.’

‘I’ve lost the right to run this investigation.’

‘I don’t believe that and neither does the commissioner.’

‘It’s all over, Colbeck. I’m finished as a detective.’

‘You’re bound to feel guilty,’ said Colbeck. ‘I understand that. But the way to assuage that guilt is to lead the pursuit of Jeremy Oxley and his accomplice – not to abandon it.’

‘I’m accepting my punishment for failure.’

Colbeck laughed. ‘In that case, everyone in the department should resign, sir. I still squirm when I recall some of my failures and the same applies to others. Detection is not a perfectible art and never will be. The most that we can hope for is a reasonable amount of success. We simply don’t have the resources to solve every crime that’s committed,’ added Colbeck. ‘We have to select priorities and you are a master at doing that, sir. It’s your forte.’

‘It was, perhaps. That’s all past now.’

‘Is that what you wish me to tell the young lady?’

‘What young lady?’

‘The one who was betrothed to Constable Peebles – I believe that you spoke to her. When she gets over the initial shock of his death, she’ll want to know that we’re making every effort to apprehend his killer.’ His smile was quizzical. ‘Am I to tell her that you have no desire to take part in the search?’

‘That would be a gross misrepresentation.’

‘It’s exactly how it will appear to Catherine, sir.’

‘Nobody is more anxious to see Oxley brought to book than me. He’s a fiend in human shape and his accomplice is just as bad as him. They’ve now killed three policemen between them.’

‘I make the number four.’

‘There were two from Wolverhampton and one from London.’

‘You’re missing someone out, sir.’

He was perplexed. ‘Who’s that?’

‘Superintendent Edward Tallis,’ said Colbeck. ‘To all intents and purposes, he’s been killed as well. He’s withdrawn from the fight. He poses no threat to Oxley and is, in effect, posthumous.’

‘That’s babbling idiocy.’

‘I only describe the situation as I see it.’

‘And I’ve not withdrawn from the fight,’ said Tallis, vehemently. ‘I simply felt that I no longer deserve to hold the authority that I did.’

Colbeck sat back in the chair. Having planted a seed of doubt in Tallis’s mind, he sought to nourish it so that it would grow. He looked up at the portrait of Wellington whose stern eyes stared down either side of the famous hooked nose. Like Tallis, the Duke had never inspired great affection in those under his command but he did earn their respect. There was another similarity. Both men had a will of iron.

‘It’s a striking portrait,’ remarked Colbeck.

‘He was a striking man,’ said Tallis, ‘and merits the thanks of the whole nation for trouncing the French at Waterloo.’

‘Did he have an unblemished record of success?’

‘Nobody has that in the army, Colbeck. There are always minor setbacks and situations over which you have no control. The Duke was often hampered by scant resources but he nevertheless managed victories against superior numbers.’

‘That’s another parallel with you, then, sir.’

‘I’m no Duke of Wellington.’

‘Perhaps not, but you have some of his qualities. For example, you know how to get the best out of men under your command, especially when they are up against insuperable odds. You are a true leader, Superintendent.’

‘Stop using that title!’

‘Would the Duke have resigned when he met with a setback?’

‘He resigned because he had incompetent rivals alongside him. It was only when they realised how great a loss he was to the army that they restored him and put him in full command.’ Colbeck glanced at the portrait then stared at Tallis. ‘It’s presumptuous to compare me with the Duke. He was a genius. Besides, I’m no longer in the army.’

‘But you run the department with military precision.’

‘That’s just my way.’

‘Ian Peebles understood that, sir. He admired you greatly. I think he’d have expected you to atone for what you did by helping to catch his killer. Will you desert your post now of all times?’

Tallis was discomfited. His eyes went up to the portrait and he had to make an effort to turn them away. After weighing up what he’d been told, he turned away to ponder. Colbeck did not disturb his cogitations. It was minutes before Tallis broke the silence.

‘You say that there have been developments.’

‘Yes, sir,’ replied Colbeck, ‘I made two critical arrests this morning. In doing so, I solved a crime that’s been troubling the Bradford Borough Police for a number of years.’

Colbeck told him about the early morning visit to Willesden and how Gordon and Susanna Younger had been unmasked. They had provided an immense amount of information about the activities of Jeremy Oxley and Irene Adnam. Though he tried to remain indifferent, Tallis was patently intrigued by the sudden progress made. He wished that he’d been there to interrogate the two prisoners. His interest in the case was reawakened so much that he even tried to shift part of the blame onto Colbeck.

‘You must take some responsibility for what happened to Peebles,’ he said. ‘If you had not gone off on a wild goose chase to Coventry, you’d have been there to read your letter and to take the appropriate action. Constable Peebles would still be alive today.’

‘I wish that were true,’ said Colbeck, ‘but my trip to Coventry was not a wild goose chase. Mrs Darker, who runs the Sherbourne Hotel there, was able to identify two of her guests as Jeremy Oxley and Irene Adnam. She did so for the second time today.’

‘How can you possibly know that?’

‘When they fled from the house, they decided to go to ground in a hotel where they’d enjoyed their stay. Accordingly, they arrived at the Sherbourne late this morning. Mrs Darker recognised them and sent for the police.’

‘Were they apprehended?’

‘Alas, no,’ admitted Colbeck, ‘but they were chased away. I had a telegraph from the local police. They’re scouring the town in case the two suspects are still in the vicinity.’

‘The chase is on, then,’ said Tallis, excitedly. ‘We have their scent in our nostrils.’

‘Are you going to miss out on the hunt, sir? Or would you prefer to sit here and read about the campaigns of the Duke of Wellington?’ He stood up. ‘Please excuse me. I must get back. Urgent matters demand my attention. But I leave you with this thought,’ he said. ‘Were his ghost standing before you now, what do you think Constable Peebles would want you to do?’

Tallis pondered afresh, looked up at the portrait then rose to his feet. He walked across to the window and stared out in the direction of Scotland Yard. Colbeck opened the door to leave.

‘Goodbye, sir,’ he said, hovering. ‘I’m very sorry to discover that you are beyond the reach of persuasion. I’ll pass on the bad news to the commissioner.’

‘Wait!’ said Tallis, making up his mind. ‘I’ll come with you.’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A night in her lover’s arms did much to reassure Irene Adnam and to banish her fears of arrest. In spite of setbacks and scares, the fact remained that they were still at liberty and were now over a hundred and sixty miles away from London. Crewe was essentially a railway town, far more interested in its mundane daily round than in searching for dangerous criminals. The hotel was accustomed to people coming and going on a regular basis. It had no eagle-eyed manageress like Gwen Darker and no watchful staff. Oxley and Irene were not under surveillance.

At the same time, however, she nursed one justified anxiety. It was all very well for Oxley to point out that Inspector Colbeck would have no clue as to their whereabouts but that would not stop him continuing to look for them. He would never give up. Colbeck had already spent ten years in pursuit of Oxley and – from what she’d heard of him – was the kind of man prepared to spend another decade in the hunt. His persistence was legendary. It meant that the fugitives could never fully relax.

Irene came down late for breakfast. When she entered the dining room, she saw that Oxley was already occupying a table in the far corner. She sat down on the other side of the room and made a point of ignoring him. It was too early for the newspapers to have arrived from London. Eager to read an account of their escape, Oxley had told her that he’d walk to the railway station in due course. The meal was acceptable but it lacked the quality of the breakfasts they’d had at the Sherbourne. Indeed, the hotel could not compete on any terms with the one in which they’d stayed in Coventry. Its merits were that it was quiet, anonymous and close to the station. If they had to flee from the town, they could do so very quickly.

When he’d finished his meal, Oxley made a point of walking close to her so that he could let his hand gently brush her shoulder. Irene felt a delicious thrill coursing through her, heightened by the fact that nobody else in the dining room had been aware of the contact. If this was the game that they had to play for a while, she was ready to enjoy it. Passionate nights together would be balanced by times in the public rooms of hotels where the pair of them pretended to be complete strangers. It might leave her vulnerable to propositions from amorous gentlemen but Irene was used to rebuffing those. The sight of an attractive young woman travelling on her own always excited unwelcome interest. It was a fact of life to which she had long since adjusted.

Seated near a window, she was able to watch Oxley striding jauntily away from the hotel. He looked smart, imposing and urbane. He was a man of the world, at ease in every situation. At their first encounter, she had been struck by his courteousness. As he passed an elderly woman, Irene saw him touch the brim of his hat out of politeness. Oxley was every inch a gentleman. It was one of the things that she loved about him. He’d elevated her in every way. She was no longer an unfortunate girl, forced to enter domestic service. Irene Adnam was now a lady in her own right. She could book into a hotel on her own and order the staff around at will. It made her feel empowered.

She lingered at the table so that she could watch Oxley return and feast her eyes on him. It was not long before they’d be alone together in her room again, discussing what they should do next. First, however, he’d want to celebrate. Their latest escape was bound to have been reported in the London newspapers and Oxley would gloat over them. When he came back into view, however, there was no sense of gloating and still less of celebration. His head was down and his stroll had now become something of a scurry. Passing a lady who was exercising her dog, he didn’t even spare her a glance. There was no time for courtesy now.

Irene’s stomach lurched. Something was wrong. Leaving her tea untouched, she rose from the table and hurried out.

* * *

Leeming was impressed. ‘How on earth did you manage it, sir?’

‘I appealed to his sense of duty.’

‘The commissioner did that but to no avail.’

‘I had an ally, Victor.’

‘Oh – who was that?’

‘It was the Duke of Wellington,’ said Colbeck.

‘He’s dead. The superintendent went to the funeral.’

‘He’s still alive in Mr Tallis’s heart.’

‘I didn’t know that he had one,’ said Leeming, sourly. He brightened immediately. ‘But it’s a relief to have him back. When he bawled at me earlier on, I felt almost glad.’

They were in Colbeck’s office, collating a lot of information that had come in. On the wall was a large map of the British Isles. Colbeck explained how he’d convinced Tallis to return to work and how the Duke of Wellington had unknowingly lent his aid. Not for the first time, Leeming admired the inspector’s diplomacy.

‘It was the revelations about Dr and Mrs Oldfield that really secured his interest,’ said Colbeck. ‘It was quite miraculous. A treasure trove of crime was both unearthed and solved in one long conversation. I wish that it was always so easy.’

‘Yet they appeared to be highly respectable,’ said Leeming as he recalled his meeting with the Youngers. ‘Looking at them, I’d never have guessed what the truth was.’

‘They worked hard to reinvent themselves, Victor. Had it not been for the arrival of unexpected guests, the doctor and his wife might have lived happily ever after as Gordon and Susanna Younger. He might even have made an excellent churchwarden.’

‘Not anymore, sir – they’re back in Bradford now, answering for their crimes. They’ll get no mercy.’

Colbeck was philosophical. ‘Justice has a way of catching up with people in the end. It just takes a little longer in some cases.’

‘How long will it take before Oxley and Miss Adnam are caught?’

‘The net is slowly closing around them. Now that we’ve engaged the British public in the search, we’re getting real assistance.’ He opened another letter and scanned it. ‘Here’s another example.’

‘Who sent it?’

‘The manager of a hotel in Stafford,’ said Colbeck. ‘He believes that they might have stayed there after the escape from the train. His description of Oxley doesn’t tally in every particular with the one that we’ve circulated but it sounds as if it could be him, Victor.’

Leeming was sceptical. ‘Wait a moment, sir,’ he said. ‘Stafford is close to Wolverhampton, isn’t it? If you kill two policemen and make a run for it, surely you’d want to get as far away as possible.’

‘That’s what everybody would think and it’s what Oxley and his accomplice would want us to think. After all, they came to London, didn’t they? Who would have imagined that they’d move close to Scotland Yard when the search for them was being directed from here? It was a cunning move on Oxley’s part.’ He took a pin from a small tray on his desk and stuck it in the map. ‘I’m sure that they did stay at Stafford.’ He studied the map then beckoned Leeming over. ‘What do you notice about their movements?’

‘They never stay long in one place, sir.’

‘Take a closer look.’

Leeming stared at the map and tried to find a connection between all the pins they’d inserted in it. Because his knowledge of geography was limited, he struggled to discern a pattern. Since the reward had been advertised in the newspapers, information had poured in from a number of sources. Many of the claims were obviously fraudulent and had been tossed aside by Colbeck, but some deserved to be taken seriously.

Leeming was baffled. ‘Give me a clue, sir.’

‘Think of my future father-in-law.’

‘Why should I want to think about Mr Andrews?’

‘He works for the LNWR,’ replied Colbeck. ‘Join up all of those pins and you’ll see that the majority of them are stations on the route used by the LNWR. Here,’ he went on, moving a finger from pin to pin. ‘We have Watford, Leighton Buzzard, Rugby, Coventry, Birmingham, Wolverhampton, Stafford and so on, all the way up to Warrington and beyond. If our informants are correct, Oxley and Miss Adnam have stayed at all of those places some time over the last few months.’

‘You can see why they’d choose to be close to a railway station, sir. In an emergency, they’d be able to get away by train.’ He peered at the map. ‘Where are they now – that’s what I want to know?’

‘I’d venture to suggest that they’re following tradition,’ said Colbeck. ‘They’ll be staying in a town somewhere along the same route.’ He breathed in deeply. ‘Which town is it, I wonder?’

When he came into her room, Oxley’s face was as dark as a thundercloud. He closed the door behind him and barked an order.

‘Pack your things – we’re leaving here at once!’

‘Why?’ asked Irene in alarm. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Just do as you’re told.’

‘But nobody knows that we’re here, Jerry.’

‘He knows,’ sneered Oxley. ‘That bastard, Inspector Colbeck, knows every damn thing.’ He handed over the newspaper. ‘Read that.’

Irene took it from him and saw the relevant article. She read it with mounting concern. All her fears flooded back. She was so jittery that she almost dropped the paper.

‘They’ve arrested Gordon and Susanna.’ Irene was incredulous.

‘We got away just in time.’

‘How could they possibly have linked us with that house?’

‘I don’t know,’ he confessed.

‘You said that they wouldn’t find us there in a month of Sundays. That’s why you chose the place.’

‘I thought it was safe, Irene. More important, it kept us out of the public gaze for a while. In any case, I’d wanted to see Gordon and Susanna again. We’re old friends.’

‘Their real names are Philip and Anna Oldfield,’ she noted, looking at the article. ‘They were well known in Bradford at one time.’

‘They’ll be even more well known now that they’ve been caught,’ he said. ‘Well, that’s their problem. We can’t waste time feeling sorry for them. The most disturbing line in that article is the last one. It says that the police are very grateful for the cooperation given by the two prisoners. In other words,’ he added with a snarl, ‘they’ve given us away, Irene. They’ve betrayed us.’

She was too stunned to reply. As she read the article for the second time, she realised how close the police had come to catching them at the house. Only hours earlier, they’d been sleeping quietly in their beds. Had they not left under the cover of darkness, they’d now be languishing in separate cells. It was a frightening thought.

‘This is Colbeck’s doing,’ he said. ‘I told you that he was clever.’

‘I still can’t believe it.’

‘The facts are there in black and white, Irene.’

‘If he can find us there,’ she argued, ‘he can find us anywhere. It was the perfect hiding place and yet he still managed to track us down somehow. I’m terrified, Jerry. There’s no escape from him.’

‘Yes, there is.’

‘Please don’t say that you’ll try to kill him again,’ she begged. ‘He’ll be on guard against you next time.’

‘I’ve thought of another solution, Irene.’

‘What is it?’

‘We leave the country altogether.’

Hope was rekindled. ‘Yes,’ she said, smiling, ‘that’s the answer. Remember that poster we saw at the station when we arrived? It said that we could take a train to Holyhead and pick up a ferry to Ireland. Inspector Colbeck would never touch us there.’

‘Oh yes he would. You haven’t followed his career as closely as I have, Irene. He was involved in a case that started in this very town when a severed head was found in a hatbox. Don’t ask me how he did it,’ he said, ‘but Colbeck went all the way to Ireland in the course of his investigation. It’s far too close. We need to be on another continent altogether.’

‘Where do you suggest?’

‘America.’

She was dumbfounded. The only thing she knew about America was that it was a great distance away. A very long voyage would be necessary with obvious dangers attendant upon it. Irene was rattled. It would be a journey into the unknown. On the other hand, it would finally guarantee them the safety they craved. In a new continent, they could forge an entirely new life.

‘If you won’t come with me,’ he warned, ‘I’ll go alone.’

She grabbed his arm. ‘Don’t say that, Jerry!’

‘It’s the one sure way to shake Colbeck off our tail.’

‘What sort of a place is it?’

‘There’s only one way to find out, Irene. Will you come with me?’

‘Of course,’ she said, embracing him. ‘You don’t have to ask. I’ll follow you anywhere. When do we leave?’

‘Not for some days at least,’ he said. ‘There’s a lot to do first. I’ve got to collect all the money and possessions I have squirrelled away in various places. And it will depend on when we can take ship. Then again, we’ll need documents. I’ll have forgeries made and that will take time. You can say goodbye to Irene Adnam,’ he told her. ‘From now on, we’ll both have another name as man and wife.’

‘And what name will it be, Jerry?’

‘Who knows? Do you have any suggestions?’ He suddenly burst out laughing. ‘I’ve just thought of the ideal name for us, Irene. In the circumstances, it’s the only one to choose.’

‘Stop interrupting!’ roared Tallis, rounding on the hapless sergeant. ‘When I want advice from you, I shall ask for it. Until then, refrain from making inane comments.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Leeming.

‘Listen and learn – that’s my advice to you.’

It had not taken Tallis long to get back into his stride. Apart from delivering a tirade at some of his officers, he had waded through a mass of paperwork relating to other cases. He’d now come into Colbeck’s office to take stock of progress on the murder investigation. In directing him towards the map on the wall, Leeming had earned himself a stinging rebuke yet, strangely, it caused no pain this time. Having the superintendent back at Scotland Yard was so comforting that the sergeant felt insulated against the fury of his tongue. It was left to Colbeck to explain the significance of the pins in the map.

‘It’s a valid theory,’ said Tallis, ‘but it doesn’t tell us where he is at the moment. We could never check every hotel within reach of the line operated by the London and North Western Railway.’

‘I accept that, sir,’ said Colbeck.

‘My question is this – what will Oxley’s next move be?’

‘He’ll go into hiding, sir,’ Leeming put in.

‘Any fool could work that out.’

‘It needed saying nevertheless.’

‘On the contrary, Sergeant,’ said Tallis. ‘It could be taken as read. There are certain assumptions that we can make without having to put them into words. Agreed?’

‘You could be right, sir.’

‘I am right, man – now please shut up.’

‘Victor is quite right in one sense,’ said Colbeck, ‘but wrong in another. Two people on the run will always look for a place of refuge. However …’

‘Go on,’ said Tallis, standing beside him.

‘I suspect that they won’t stay there for long. Oxley will have been shaken rudely out of his complacence by the reports in this morning’s papers. The fact that we arrested his two friends will come as a terrible blow to him, sir.’

‘And so it should. We trailed them to their lair.’

‘It was all because I spoke to that clerk from the ticket office at Euston,’ said Leeming, wishing that he’d never spoken when subjected to the superintendent’s basilisk stare. He retreated into a corner. ‘I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to interrupt.’

‘Pay attention to Colbeck. He has something sensible to say.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘They’ll feel that we’re closing in,’ resumed Colbeck. ‘They tried to kill me and they failed. They thought they were safe with their friends yet we found them. Our pursuit will seem inexorable.’

‘That’s why it must continue with vigour.’

‘Why did you say that I was wrong, Inspector?’ asked Leeming.

‘You almost invariably are,’ sniped Tallis.

‘They’ll hide in the first instance, Victor,’ said Colbeck, ‘but the ground will tremble beneath them when they learn about the way that we almost caught them. They may well decide that there’s only one course of action left open to them.’

‘There’ll be a second attempt to kill you?’ asked Tallis.

‘That would be far too risky, sir. No, I believe that they will seriously consider leaving the country altogether. That way – and that way only – they’d feel out of our reach.’

‘It makes sense,’ remarked Leeming.

Tallis was not persuaded. ‘It’s yet another of the inspector’s famous theories,’ he said with a slight edge. ‘How valid this one is, I have my doubts. We are talking about a man who’s contrived to evade the law for a very long time.’

‘He’s beginning to lose his touch, sir,’ observed Colbeck. ‘He was arrested in Wolverhampton. That was careless of him. And when he set out to kill me, he shot someone else in my place.’

‘There’s no need to harp on about that,’ said Tallis, uneasily.

‘I fancy that they’ll consider going abroad.’

‘I wouldn’t,’ said Leeming. ‘You can’t trust foreigners. I hated it when we had to go to France. They were so shifty over there.’

‘Spare us your reminiscences,’ said Tallis, acidly.

‘They never made us feel welcome, sir.’

‘You are rapidly outwearing your welcome in this very room, Leeming. Either hold your tongue or get out of here.’ Leeming shrank back into his corner again. ‘Where will they go, Inspector?’

‘My guess is as good as yours, sir,’ said Colbeck, ‘but I know one thing. If they are to emigrate, they’ll need time to arrange everything. We might catch them before they go.’

‘How do you intend to do that?’

‘We’ve seen before that Irene Adnam still has feelings for her father. I don’t believe that she’d leave the country without paying him a last visit.’ He picked up a pin and jabbed it into the map. ‘This is where I believe we should go next, sir – Manchester.’

Even in the relatively short time since she’d last seen him, Silas Adnam’s health had visibly deteriorated. Irene saw that his cheeks had hollowed, his eyes were bloodshot and his skin pallid. His cough was now almost continuous and causing him so much pain that he kept putting a hand to his chest. Adnam’s voice was hoarse.

‘I’m surprised to see you again, Irene,’ he said.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘My lungs are on fire. It’s getting worse.’

‘You should have spent some of that money I gave you on a doctor. You need help, Father.’

‘I’m past helping.’ He came forward to glare at her. ‘I never thought that it would come to this.’

‘It was your own fault,’ said Irene.

‘I’m not talking about me – I’m talking about you.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘A detective came to see me. His name was Inspector Colbeck. He told me exactly what sort of a daughter I have.’

She reeled. ‘The inspector came here?’

‘Yes. It looks as if I helped to bring a monster into the world.’

‘Don’t believe everything you hear,’ she warned.

He went on the attack. ‘You don’t work as a governess in London, do you?’

‘No, I don’t, as it happens.’

‘Then why did you tell me that you did?’ he said, resentfully. ‘Why did you tell me lie after lie? There was I, thinking that I had a dutiful daughter, when all the time she was stealing from the people who employed her.’

‘They deserved it,’ she countered. ‘They treated me like dirt.’

‘So it’s true, then?’

‘I don’t deny it.’

‘What about the murder?’ he asked, searching her face with widened eyes. ‘Did you really shoot a policeman?’ She was lost for words. ‘Tell me, Irene. Try to be honest with your father for once in your life. Did you or did you not kill someone?’

She lowered her head. Taking her silence as a confession of guilt, he let out a gasp of horror then had a coughing fit. He flopped down on the bed and put a palm to his chest. Irene was mortified that he now knew the truth about her. The fact that Colbeck had actually been to see her father was more than unsettling. It induced instant panic. Irene could simply not understand how he’d made contact with the old man. It altered the whole situation. Having come to tell him a rehearsed story about going abroad with the family for whom she worked, she had to think again. Before, her father had been no more than a pathetic ruin. Now, however, he was a potential danger. Shocked by the ugly truth about his daughter, he might be tempted to report her visit to the police.

Irene knew exactly what Oxley would do in her position. There’d be no hesitation. Faced with the possibility of betrayal, he’d kill the old man without compunction. He’d only be shortening a life that had very little time to run. That option was not available to Irene. She had no weapon and she was held back by a vague sense of duty to the man who’d fathered her. Besides, her conscience already had far too much to accommodate. Irene decided to buy his silence.

‘I’m leaving the country,’ she told him.

‘Good riddance!’ he said.

‘You’ll never see me again, Father.’

‘That won’t trouble me. I want nothing to do with a killer.’

‘I had to do what I did,’ she said. ‘It’s no good explaining because you’d never understand. But before you start to look down on me, you should remember how much money I’ve given you over the years. I’ve kept you alive, Father. I had no need to do that.’

‘If I’d known where the money came from, I’d never have touched it,’ he said, rising to his feet to strike a pose. ‘I don’t have much to call my own but I do have moral standards. I used to think that I’d instilled them in you.’

Irene was blisteringly honest. ‘What good are moral standards when your father drags you from a decent life in a proper home into a kind of hell? What use are they when you’re a mere servant and your master starts to molest you? Do you know what it’s like to be at the mercy of lecherous old men?’ she demanded. ‘Do you know what it’s like to be treated like an unpaid prostitute? That’s what you did to me. That’s the sort of father you were.’

Adnam was hurt. ‘I did my best for you, Irene.’

‘The only person you ever thought about was yourself.’

‘It was your mother,’ he whimpered. ‘When she died, I lost my way. One thing led to another. It wasn’t my fault, Irene.’

‘You turned me into someone else’s slave and I’ll never forgive you for that. I had two choices,’ said Irene, temper colouring her cheeks. ‘I could either submit or I could fight back. I could either let my employers use my body whenever they wished or I could steal what I wanted from them and run away.’

‘So you turned into a thief.’

‘It was the only way I could survive, Father.’

His eyes began to water and another coughing fit seized him. When the pain finally eased, he looked at her with a disgust laced heavily with curiosity.

‘When will you go?’ he asked.

‘At the end of the week.’

‘Where will you sail from?’

‘Liverpool.’

‘Who are you travelling with? Is it that man, Oxley?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, irritably. ‘The point is that I’m going out of your life for ever. I’d hoped we could have a proper farewell.’

‘Ha!’

‘You’re still my father. I came here to give you some money.’

Adnam’s expression slowly changed. The look of contempt in his eyes was eventually replaced by a glint of self-interest. He despised what she’d done and was glad that she was going far away from him, but he was too wretched to be able to refuse the offer of money, even from such a tainted source. After wrestling with his conscience for a while, he eventually got the better of it.

‘How much money?’ he asked.

Inspector Zachary Boone gave each of them a warm handshake. He had been warned by telegraph that Colbeck and Leeming would be coming to Manchester again and the message had contained a request for him. It had asked that Silas Adnam be brought to the police station for questioning. Boone had bad news for the visitors.

‘He’s not there, I’m afraid,’ he said.

‘Did your officers go to his lodging?’ asked Colbeck.

‘They did, Robert. They talked to everyone else in the house, to his neighbours and to the landlord of the pub where Adnam is well known. Nobody has any idea where he is. Or if they do,’ added Boone, corrugating his brow, ‘they’re not telling us. We don’t get much help from people in Deansgate. They think policemen are vermin.’

‘We have people like that in London,’ said Leeming. ‘They’d sooner die than be seen giving assistance to the police. We’re the enemy to them.’

‘There’s one possibility,’ suggested Colbeck. ‘Adnam is a very sick man. Since the time I was last here, he may even have died.’

‘I considered that,’ said Boone, ‘so I told my men to check on the local undertakers. None of them had been called to collect the body of Silas Adnam. He’s still alive.’

‘Then where is he? The fellow can’t have left Manchester. He’d have no money to do so. Unless …’

‘What are you thinking, Robert?’

‘His daughter got to him before your men did.’

Boone’s office was more cluttered than ever. Files had now been stacked on the floor and the desk was invisible beneath a blizzard of paperwork. He presided over the general anarchy with the confidence of a man who had everything supremely under command. In one deft movement, he plucked a telegraph from beneath a pile of documents.

‘All that this told me,’ he said, ‘was that you were coming to Manchester and that you needed to speak to Adnam. Could I have some more detail, Robert?’

‘How much do you already know?’

‘I read the London newspapers, so I know about the death of Constable Peebles. Such a pity – I liked him on sight.’ He smiled at Leeming. ‘I was a little more wary of you, Sergeant.’

‘I sometimes have that effect on people,’ said Leeming.

‘No offence intended.’

‘None is taken, Inspector. My face never wins friends.’

‘It does when people get to know you, Victor,’ said Colbeck, patting his shoulder. ‘But let me fill in the gaps in Zachary’s knowledge of the case. A lot has happened in the last few days.’

Amplifying the details given in the press, Colbeck told him about the flight of Oxley and Irene, the arrest of the two suspects and the abundance of information that had come in, enabling them to place the suspects at various hotels at specific times. Boone agreed that the fugitives might well consider emigration as their only viable option.

I think you’re right, Robert,’ he said. ‘If she’s about to shake the dust of this country off her shoes, Irene Adnam is very likely to pay a last visit to her father.’

‘There’s a big difference this time,’ noted Colbeck.

‘Is there?’

‘Yes, Zachary – her father knows the truth about her. When she kept supplying him with money, he was happy to believe the fiction that she worked as a governess. After all, he could take some credit for having got her the education that qualified her to take on such a post. Teaching the sons and daughters of the wealthy would seem to be a worthy occupation to someone who’d sunk as low as he has.’

‘If his daughter did go to see him,’ said Leeming, ‘how do you think Mr Adnam would react?’

‘I think he’d condemn what she did. Any father would.’

‘That would take her by surprise. Irene Adnam had no idea that you’d visited her father and laid the whole facts before him. She’d be expecting to be able to wear the same mask as before.’

Colbeck nodded. ‘That’s a good point, Victor.’

‘If he started yelling at her, she’d be very upset. Her first thought would be that he might even report her to the police.’

‘I don’t think he’d do that somehow.’

‘It’s a possibility she’d have to consider, sir,’ said Leeming, as he tried to imagine the confrontation between father and daughter. ‘If he did threaten to turn her in, what would she do?’

‘Get away from there as fast as she could,’ answered Boone.

‘That wouldn’t solve the problem. She’d have every policeman in Manchester looking for her. I’m wondering if she acted on impulse.’

Boone sniffed. ‘She’d never kill her own father, would she?’

‘We know that she’s capable of murder. If she was desperate, there’s no telling what she might do.’

‘I think it’s unlikely that she’d resort to violence,’ said Colbeck, mulling it over. ‘In her own way, she still loves her father. Otherwise, she’d have disowned him years ago. Anyway, why else bid him farewell unless she had a parting gift for him? If he decided to report her to the police, he wouldn’t get anything. That’s what it may come down to in the end,’ he concluded. ‘What price will he put on his silence?’

* * *

Two whole days and nights apart from Oxley had left Irene in a state of agitation. They’d arranged to meet on the third day in Liverpool. She spent the intervening time buying a cabin trunk and filling it with all the items she felt that she’d need to begin a new life in America. Without Oxley beside her to offer support, she began to lose heart. Far too many things could go wrong. What if her father made contact with the police, after all? What if Colbeck caught them before they sailed? What if Oxley made another serious mistake? Even if they did get safely away, what if the ship sank in a violent storm? What if they were refused entry to America? What if they were forced to return to England? Worst of all, she kept asking herself, what if Oxley failed to turn up? Supposing that he’d already fled the country on his own?

By the time that the third day dawned, she was convinced that their escape would somehow founder. Having spent the last night in a hotel in Liverpool, she had her trunk sent down to the harbour, more in hope than in certainty. A cab took her to the designated place. It was a windy day and, as she alighted from the vehicle, she had to put a hand to her hat to keep it on. She looked around for Oxley and was horrified to see that he was not there. He’d been very specific about the time and place of their reunion yet he had not turned up. That raised the question of whether he’d ever intended to. Had he waved the possibility of emigration in front of Irene solely to get rid of her? She would not be the first discarded mistress. She was keenly aware of that. Had the others also been tricked into thinking they were starting a new life abroad with him?

The longer she waited, the more she fretted. Standing on a corner near the harbour gates, she was also bothered by a succession of men who offered to carry her valise in order to ingratiate themselves with her. One drunken sailor even tried to steal a kiss. Irene pushed him away but the man lunged at her again. He did not even touch her this time. Oxley grabbed him from behind, spun him round then felled him with a punch to the jaw. As the sailor sagged to the ground, Oxley stepped over him and took Irene in his arms.

‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ he said, holding her close.

She was tearful. ‘I thought you weren’t coming.’

‘Have I ever deserted you before?’

‘No, Jerry, you haven’t.’

‘Then stop having such silly thoughts. I’m here now.’

‘When do we go aboard?’ she asked.

‘Fairly soon – they give us a medical examination.’

‘I sent my luggage on ahead, as you told me.’

‘I did the same.’ Arm around her, he led Irene through the harbour gates. ‘What have you been doing since I last saw you?’

‘I’ve been pining for you most of the time.’

‘That’s very flattering. Did you see your father?’

‘Yes, Jerry.’ She winced at the memory. ‘He knew.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘He knew what you and I had been doing. Inspector Colbeck told him so in person.’

Oxley stopped. ‘Colbeck spoke to your father? How on earth did he find out where he lived?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said, ‘but, then, I don’t know how he tracked us to Gordon and Susanna’s house. The one thing I do know is that he’s shadowing us wherever we go. We must get away from England for good, Jerry.’

‘We will,’ he promised, hustling her along again. ‘We’ll have three thousand miles between us and Inspector Colbeck. Even he would never try to follow us to America.’

Leeming was dismayed at having to spend two nights in Manchester while the search for Silas Adnam continued. He doubted whether they’d ever find the man in such a populous city. Colbeck insisted that they had to stay, arguing that Irene Adnam’s father might well hold a vital clue as to her whereabouts. Thinking about his wife and children, the sergeant was desperate to get back to London. Colbeck made a telling comment.

‘Do you want to go back empty-handed, Victor?’

‘I just want to go home.’

‘Would you like to admit that we failed? Imagine what the superintendent will say. Would you like to be the one to tell him?’

Leeming shuddered. ‘No, I wouldn’t, sir.’

‘Then we stay until we get a result.’

‘But that could take ages.’

‘Adnam is bound to turn up sooner or later.’

‘I think he’ll be found in a dark corner with his throat cut,’ said Leeming with a vivid gesture. ‘If his daughter gave him money, he’ll start waving it around. It won’t be long before someone seizes his chance. According to you, Adnam wouldn’t be able to defend himself.’

‘He’s too old and weak.’

‘And no use to us when he’s dead.’

‘Don’t be so pessimistic, Victor.’

‘I hate all this waiting, Inspector.’

The sergeant’s gloom was soon dispelled. He and Colbeck were sharing a room above an inn. They were on the point of leaving when a policeman came looking for them with an urgent summons from Inspector Boone. They hailed a cab and set off. When they reached the police station, they were shown straight into the inspector’s office. Hoping to find Silas Adnam there, Colbeck was disappointed.

‘Where is he, Zachary?’

‘Sleeping off his stupor,’ said Boone.

‘You found him, then?’

‘Yes, Robert. That was a good guess of yours. His daughter gave him a substantial amount of money and he decided to enjoy it while he still had the strength. Adnam cleaned himself up, went off to a better part of the city, bought some decent clothes for a change, then moved into a hotel and drank his way through bottle after bottle.’ Boone grinned. ‘I wish I had enough money to do that. Anyway,’ he went on, ‘Adnam caused so much disruption this morning that the hotel manager called in the police.’

‘Where is he now?’ asked Leeming.

‘He’s snoring to high heaven in one of our cells.’

‘We must speak to him,’ said Colbeck.

‘There’s no need, Robert,’ said Boone. ‘I discovered what you wanted to know. I caught Adnam in a lucid moment and shook the truth out of him. Oxley and his daughter are fleeing the country.’

‘From which port are they embarking?’

‘Liverpool.’

‘On which day are they sailing?’

‘He didn’t know that.’

‘Thank you, Zachary,’ said Colbeck, shaking his hand in gratitude. ‘You’ll have to excuse us. We need to get to Liverpool and hope that they haven’t left yet.’

After days of inertia, there was a burst of activity. The detectives made a frantic dash to the station, bought two tickets to Liverpool and spent the journey speculating on which country the fugitives had chosen as their new home. Jerked out of his pessimism, Leeming was exhilarated at the thought of finally catching up with Oxley and his accomplice. It was the tragic death of Ian Peebles that he was eager to avenge. Colbeck, too, nursed sad thoughts of the fallen detective but it was Helen Millington who remained uppermost in his mind. He was desperate to meet Irene Adnam to see just how closely she resembled the young woman to whom he’d once grown so close.

Arriving at the station, they ran to the cab rank and ordered a driver to take them to the harbour. Crowds of people were drifting away, suggesting that a ship had not long sailed and that friends and well-wishers were now dispersing. It was a bad omen. When they got to the pier, they saw a vessel gliding off down the Mersey. They were told that it was the Arethusa and that it was bound for New York. They both prayed that the fugitives were not aboard. While Colbeck went off to check on other recent sailings, Leeming stood on the pier with the wind plucking at his clothing and trying to dislodge his hat. He felt cheated. Something told him that Oxley and Irene Adnam were on the ship, sailing away from justice across the Atlantic Ocean. It was unfair. Leeming kicked a stone into the water out of frustration. After all the time and energy they’d put into the investigation, it was galling to see it collapse around them.

Colbeck eventually returned with a look of grim resignation.

‘What’s happened?’ asked Leeming.

‘They sailed on the Arethusa.’

‘Are you certain of that, sir?’

‘I’m absolutely certain.’

‘But they wouldn’t have used their own names, surely? That would have been far too dangerous.’

‘They appreciated that,’ said Colbeck, staring at the receding vessel. ‘They’re travelling as man and wife under a false name.’

‘And what name would that be, sir?’

‘It’s one that convinces me that it must be them, Victor.’

‘Oh?’

‘They are calling themselves Mr and Mrs Robert Colbeck.’

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

‘This is a meagre reward for three days in Manchester,’ said Tallis, gnashing his teeth in disappointment. ‘All that you’ve brought back is the information that the suspects have fled to America.’

‘I don’t call that a meagre reward, sir,’ said Colbeck.

‘You were too late, man. They’ve flown the coop.’

‘We only just missed catching them, sir,’ Leeming pointed out. ‘It was the inspector who guessed that they’d flee the country and that Miss Adnam would be sure to visit her father beforehand. His theory was proved right even though, when he first put it forward, you had doubts about it.’

‘That’s beside the point, Sergeant,’ said Tallis.

‘Our journey was not in vain. We established the facts.’

‘I wanted arrests and you failed to make them.’

They’d returned to Scotland Yard to account for their absence and to inform the superintendent that the fugitives were no longer on British soil. Tallis was appalled by the news. Instead of reaching for a cigar, however, he heaped criticism on his detectives for what he described as their lack of urgency. The attack was unjust and Leeming smarted under its severity. Colbeck, however, remained unruffled. That served to inflame Tallis even more.

‘I don’t know how you can stay so calm, Inspector,’ he said. ‘At this very moment, someone is crossing the Atlantic with your name on his passport. If that fact became known to the press, we’d be held up to ridicule. The department would be pilloried in every newspaper.’

‘The situation is not irretrievable, sir.’

‘Don’t talk such drivel.’

‘We can still capture them.’

‘How?’ asked Leeming, goggling. ‘They’re out of our jurisdiction.’

‘I think we can overcome that obstacle, Victor.’

Tallis descended into sarcasm. ‘What did you have in mind?’ he asked. ‘Are you planning to swim after the vessel and catch it up?’

‘I’ve a much better idea than that, Superintendent.’

‘May we know what it is?’

‘You will have to, sir,’ said Colbeck, ‘because you’ll need to give the sergeant and I your seal of approval.’

‘What sort of approval?’

‘We’re going on a voyage to America.’

Leeming gasped. ‘I can’t go sailing across an ocean. I have obligations.’

‘We both have an obligation to catch felons responsible for the deaths of three policemen as well as for a multitude of other crimes. Yes, I know it’s a long way,’ said Colbeck, ‘but the effort will be well worth it.’

‘You can’t be serious about this,’ said Tallis.

‘I was never more so, Superintendent. We may have no jurisdiction in New York but there’s such a thing as extradition. If it’s handled correctly, the authorities will comply with our request. Well,’ he added, ‘would you want to allow two brutal killers to walk into your country without even being challenged?’

‘But think of the time involved,’ said Leeming, anxiously.

Tallis was practical. ‘I’m thinking of the cost involved.’

‘Your budget is not at risk, sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘I’m so committed to the notion that I’ll volunteer to pay for the tickets myself. Victor and I will sail from Liverpool on the next available vessel.’

‘What about my wife and family?’ wailed Leeming.

‘I’m afraid that they can’t come with us.’

‘They’ll miss me, Inspector.’

‘It’s all in a good cause. Try to think of it as an adventure.’

‘Where’s the adventure in being away for weeks on end?’

Colbeck lowered his voice. ‘Do you want the killers of Constable Peebles to get away scot-free?’

‘No, sir – of course, I don’t.’

‘I second that,’ said Tallis, wholeheartedly. ‘They must pay the ultimate penalty somehow.’ He reached for a cigar then changed his mind and withdrew his hand. ‘It’s a bold plan, Colbeck, but it has a fatal flaw in it.’

‘I’ve yet to detect one,’ said Colbeck.

‘They have a head start on you. They’re already on their way. Mr and Mrs Robert Colbeck will get to New York long before you.’

‘That’s true,’ said Leeming, relieved. ‘We’d never catch them. Good as it is, I’m afraid that the idea will have to be abandoned.’

Tallis nodded. ‘Sadly, I have to agree.’

‘Then neither of you is familiar with the shipping lines,’ said Colbeck. ‘I’m surprised at you, Victor. You actually saw the Arethusa slowly disappearing down the Mersey. Didn’t you notice something about her?’

‘Only that she was out of our reach,’ said Leeming.

‘The Arethusa is a sailing ship. She relies entirely on wind power. That means the crossing will take time. If we book passages on a steamship – driven by propeller and wind – the chances are that we’ll arrive in New York at least a fortnight before them.’ He was amused by their startled reaction. ‘A tall ship may look more graceful as it rides the ocean waves but a steamship is more efficient. I checked the approximate crossing times for both vessels when I was in Liverpool. We can wait over a week and still get to New York ahead of the Arethusa. What do you say, Superintendent?’

‘It’s certainly worth exploring,’ said Tallis. I’d have to speak to the commissioner, of course, but I can’t see that he’d object.’

‘Well, I object,’ said Leeming. ‘It’s simply too far to go.’

‘We should be prepared to go to the ends of the earth in pursuit of murderers,’ asserted Colbeck. ‘Think what it will do for us, Victor. If we can show that there’s no escape from justice, the publicity will be priceless. Criminals will think twice about fleeing abroad.’

‘Yes,’ said Tallis. ‘If you succeed, reporters might actually say something nice about me in their newspapers for a change. And since Leeming is so unhappy about keeping you company, Inspector, I’m tempted to do so myself.’

Colbeck was alarmed. ‘No, no, sir, that won’t be necessary.’

‘It will help me to atone for my part in Constable Peebles’ death.’

‘You’ll do that by sanctioning the plan.’

‘Scotland Yard can manage without me for a few weeks.’

‘It will be over a month, sir – perhaps more. You can’t be spared from your desk for that long,’ said Colbeck, baulking at the notion that he’d have to travel with Tallis. ‘It would be wrong to tear away a senior officer from a job that he does so well. The sergeant will come with me, I’m sure. Victor knows where his duty lies.’

‘It’s with my family,’ said Leeming, disconsolately.

‘Don’t mention that word to me,’ said Tallis, treating him to a withering glare. ‘When you’re inside this building, you don’t have a family. Your first duty is to obey orders.’

‘Yes, sir, I know that.’

‘If I tell you to sail to America, you’ll do so without complaint.’

‘That’s what you think,’ said Leeming to himself.

‘In fact, all three of us can go together. Oxley is armed. He has nothing to lose, so he’s bound to resist arrest. It may need three of us to overpower him.’ He slapped his desk. ‘The matter is decided. I shall speak to the commissioner at once.’

Jumping to his feet, he marched out of the office. Leeming was in despair at the thought of being away from his wife and family for so long. Glad that his plan had the superintendent’s approval, Colbeck was sobered by the threat of having to share the voyage with Tallis. It was not an alluring prospect.

‘It was your own fault, Inspector,’ said Leeming. ‘You should never have persuaded him to return to work. You should have left him in retirement with his portrait of the Duke of Wellington.’

Irene had never expected it to be so noisy. The bellowed commands at the point of departure, the bustle of the crew, the whistle of the wind, the flapping of the sails, the creaking of the timbers, the smack of the water against the hull and the strident cries of the gulls all combined to buffet her ears. With the deafening new sounds came a collection of new sights and sensations. Irene had never been on a ship before and its design intrigued her. When it left the mouth of the river and hit the open sea, she was staggered at the vast expanse of water ahead of them. Covered in white-capped waves, it seemed to stretch to infinity. Sailors were climbing the rigging or hauling up other sails. Passengers were standing at the bulwark to give a farewell wave to the mainland.

Like them, Irene felt the salty spray on her face, the wind on her hair and the rocking-horse rhythm of the deck beneath her feet as the Arethusa rose and fell through the surging tide. She was gripped by a fear that was only partly allayed by a sense of adventure. A ship so small would be no more than a splinter of wood on a huge and turbulent ocean like the Atlantic. The excitement of leaving dry land had now been replaced by the uncertainty of ever arriving at their destination. Irene had no means of control over what was happening to her. All that she could do was to pray.

She felt a comforting arm being wrapped around her shoulder.

‘Welcome to America, Mrs Colbeck,’ said Oxley.

‘There’s a long way to go yet,’ she reminded him.

‘Yes, but the most important part of the voyage is over. We’re clear of the coast now. We’ve escaped from the clutches of the law.’

‘They have policemen in New York, Jerry.’

‘Granted – but they don’t know us, do they? We’ll be looked upon as ideal emigrants. We’re young, respectable, intelligent and financially stable. That’s all they’ll see.’