Blood on the Line

‘I’ll just be grateful to get there safely.’

‘The Arethusa has crossed the ocean dozens of times.’

‘You keep telling me that but it doesn’t stop me from worrying. Now we’re at sea, the ship feels so small and fragile.’

He stamped hard on the deck. ‘It’s as solid as a rock,’ he said. ‘That’s seasoned English oak beneath our feet, Irene. Nobody could build ships the way that we did. If you still feel nervous about sailing, remember Nelson. He won all those naval battles because he had complete faith in the shipbuilders.’

She gave a pale smile. ‘I wish I could share it.’

‘You’ll come to trust the Arethusa in time.’

For his part, Oxley was in a state of quiet jubilation. After a successful criminal career in England, he’d reached the point where it was about to be terminated on the gallows. Recent events had taught him that there was nowhere safe to hide from Colbeck. The inspector’s pursuit of them was unrelenting. It was only a matter of time before he finally caught up with them. There was no danger of that now. Oxley had severed his ties with England and was embarking on an adventure that, he felt sure, would yield endless opportunities for a man with his well-honed skills. He just wished that Irene could relish the same jubilation.

‘Are you still thinking about your father?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ she confessed. ‘I’m bound to, Jerry.’

‘You gave him far too much money.’

‘I had to bribe him into silence.’

‘Twenty pounds would have done that. There was no need to give him the best part of a hundred.’

‘I could afford it and I felt guilty about him.’

‘He’ll be dead before he has time to spend it. That money came from the robbery in Birmingham. We could have used it in America. It was wasted on him.’

‘We have plenty of money, Jerry. My father has none. Giving it to him made me feel good and stopped him from going to the police.’

‘You’ll never see the old fool again.’

‘I know that.’

‘Does that trouble you?’

She pursed her lips in thought. ‘No,’ she said, eventually. ‘I don’t think it does.’

‘I’m taking you to America and not your father.’

She kissed him. ‘I couldn’t be more grateful.’

‘You have to let go of the past, Irene. When we get to New York, I don’t ever want to hear you talking about your family.’

‘You won’t, I promise you.’

‘How can I be certain of that?’

‘I’m not Irene Adnam anymore,’ she said with conviction. ‘I’m Mrs Robert Colbeck and I no longer have any family in England. What’s more,’ she added, gazing across the undulating waves, ‘I’m going to put my trust in the Arethusa and enjoy every second of this voyage.’

Madeleine Andrews felt as if she’d just been hit over the head. For a moment, she was too dazed even to speak. She’d been overjoyed when Colbeck turned up unexpectedly at the house. They’d kissed and held each other in silence for a long time. When he released her and told her his news, however, it made her stagger back as if from a blow. He steadied her quickly with a hand. She had to shake her head to clear her brain.

‘You’re going to America?’ she cried.

‘They have to be caught, Madeleine.’

‘But it’s so far away and the ocean is so treacherous.’

‘In the interest of arresting the fugitives,’ he said, stoutly, ‘we’re prepared to take any risks involved. At least,’ he went on, ‘I certainly am. Victor is less committed to the enterprise. He hates being away from his family for any length of time.’

‘How long will it all take, Robert?’

‘That depends on the speed of the Arethusa. We’ll be sailing in an iron-hulled steamship that’s much faster. Some of the Cunard fleet have been known to reach New York in as little as ten or eleven days. In fact, the Blue Riband is held by a vessel that went even faster.’

‘What’s the Blue Riband?’

‘It’s a notional award for the fastest crossing between Liverpool and New York. It’s currently held by Persia, an iron ship powered by paddles, launched two years ago. It crossed the Atlantic in nine days and sixteen hours.’

‘It’s not the speed I care about,’ she said, ‘it’s the lack of safety. Remember that I’ve been reading that copy of American Notes you loaned me. Charles Dickens describes the voyage he made in a steamship as a nightmare from start to finish. He feared for his life a number of times.’

‘That was several years ago, Madeleine. He sailed in the steam packet, Britannia. Maritime engineering has made big strides since then. Steamships are faster and safer.’

‘Are they?’ she questioned. ‘I thought the SS Great Britain ran aground. Father had a good laugh when that happened because it was designed by Mr Brunel and Father despises anything connected with him. Yes,’ she continued, ‘and other steamships have been badly damaged in storms. A few have even been lost at sea.’

‘The overwhelming majority cross the Atlantic regularly without incident, Madeleine,’ he said. ‘There’s no need for anxiety, I assure you. Cunard has a good record.’

It was not only the safety of the vessel that concerned her. She was worried about the danger of arresting two people who had both committed murder in order to escape. Madeleine was tortured by the thought that Colbeck might be killed thousands of miles away from her. She was enveloped by a feeling of helplessness. If he went to New York, she’d forfeit his company for a long period and lose her peace of mind into the bargain. When he was leading an investigation in Britain, she rarely had qualms about his personal safety. Now that he was going abroad, however, she was assailed by a creeping terror.

Sensing her unease, he embraced her again.

‘There is one way to prevent your constant anxiety,’ he said.

‘Is there?’

‘You could come with me.’

She laughed in surprise. ‘I could never go all that way, Robert.’

‘Why not?’

‘Father would never countenance it,’ she said. ‘I know that we’re engaged but he’s very old-fashioned in some ways. If we were already married, of course, it would be a different matter.’

‘Once this is over,’ he promised, experiencing a stab of guilt, ‘we will marry, Madeleine. Until then, it’s probably asking too much of your father to allow us to be alone together for weeks on end.’

‘I’m not sure that the superintendent would endorse it either.’

‘He’d make loud protests. You know he has eccentric views about women. Unfortunately, he’s talking about coming on the voyage, so there’d be no way of smuggling you aboard without his knowledge.’

‘I’ll have to stay at home and count the days until you return.’

He kissed her again. ‘I can’t wait until this case is finally over.’

She was fatalistic. ‘There’ll be another one to replace it.’

‘No, Madeleine,’ he said, ‘there’ll never be a case quite like this. It’s unique. When I get back, I’ll explain why.’

Leeming’s experience of travelling by sea was limited to a short voyage to and from France but that had been more than enough to convince him that he was no sailor. His stomach had been as unruly as the wild, green water that had tossed the vessels on which he sailed hither and thither. If crossing the English Channel had such an effect on him, then the Atlantic Ocean would be a continuous ordeal. What helped to give him much needed confidence was the response of his wife. Dismayed that he’d be away for so long, Estelle encouraged him to go because she saw the fact that he was chosen for the assignment as a mark of the esteem in which he was held at Scotland Yard.

As a detective’s wife, she was habituated to adapting to situations as they arose. This one required more adjustment than usual but Estelle did not blench at that. The children’s opinion also weighed with Leeming. They were highly excited at the news that their father would go on a long voyage to America. It was something they could boast about to their friends and they longed to hear about his adventures when he got back. With such unanimous family support, Leeming began to lose some of his reservations about the trip.

One particular fear, however, continued to loom large and he raised the issue with Superintendent Tallis at Scotland Yard.

‘I don’t see that it’s possible, sir,’ he said. ‘How can an iron ship float on water? It’s in defiance of common sense. If I drop a flat iron into a bowl of water, it will sink to the bottom at once.’

‘Colbeck will explain it to you.’

‘I simply can’t trust an iron steamship.’

‘Hundreds of thousands of people have trusted them,’ said Tallis, ‘and they’ve sailed much farther afield than America. There’s a regular service to Australia now.’

Leeming grimaced. ‘I hope none of our fugitives ever go there. I’d hate to have to chase them all that way.’

‘We’re an island race, Leeming. Our power and prosperity are based on our maritime skills. By rights, we should all have salt water in our veins.’

‘Well, I don’t, sir. The sea scares me.’

Tallis was brisk. ‘You’ll soon get over that, man,’ he said. ‘By the time you come back, you’ll be an experienced sailor and look down on landlubbers like me.’

‘I thought you were coming with us, Superintendent.’

There was a long sigh of regret. ‘That’s what I hoped but the commissioner has refused to authorise it. He thinks I’m too important to spare.’

‘Oh, you are,’ said Leeming, rushing to approve the decision. ‘Without you here, the whole department would start to fall apart. In fact,’ he added, groping for a historical analogy, ‘I’d go so far as to say that you’re as important to the Metropolitan Police Force as the Duke of Wellington was to the Battle of Waterloo.’

Tallis glowed. ‘That’s very kind of you to say so.’

‘The inspector would say the same.’

‘We must never forget that the Duke led a coalition army. His genius lay in welding so many disparate elements together. That, I fancy, is where my talent lies.’

‘I agree, sir.’

Yet another of Leeming’s objections had just disappeared. Travelling with Colbeck would ensure that he had someone to keep up his morale on the voyage. Having the superintendent on board as well would rob the voyage of any hope of relaxation or pleasure. Leeming had likened it to being entwined in an anchor chain. Suddenly, that chain had been snapped in two. Tallis would not be going.

‘What about arrest warrants, Superintendent?’

‘They’ll be ready for you to take with you,’ said Tallis.

‘Then there’s the question of extradition.’

‘The documents are being prepared.’

‘What if they refuse to let Oxley and Miss Adnam go?’

‘Don’t waste time raising possibilities that will never exist. America is a young and expanding country. It needs emigrants but it will not take just anyone,’ said Tallis. ‘It will discriminate. Oxley and his accomplice are bloodthirsty killers. My firm belief is that America will be glad to get rid of them.’

‘We’ll do our best to bring them back alive.’

‘Oh, yes, you must do that. I don’t want them to evade the noose by dying in a gunfight or even by shooting themselves. I want to be there when the pair of them are hanged,’ declared Tallis, describing the scene with his hands. ‘It’s the only thing that will reconcile me to the death of Constable Peebles.’

After a week at sea, Oxley and Irene had fallen into a comfortable routine. Good weather and calm conditions encouraged them to spend a lot of time on deck, promenading arm in arm. Their affability had won them a number of new friends, all of whom regarded them as a happily married couple. Oxley was already plotting.

‘People are so trusting on board,’ he said, as they stood at the bulwark one day. ‘It will be child’s play to rob them.’

‘I could have stolen a dozen reticules by now, Jerry. Ladies are so careless with their possessions. They spy no danger,’ said Irene. ‘I’ve lost count of the number of times I had to control the urge to reach out and take things.’

‘It’s far too early, Irene.’

‘I know that.’

‘We must wait until we are much nearer our destination. If there’s a spate of thefts now, the captain will have weeks to look into them. Bide our time and strike hard when the moment comes.’

‘There’s a small fortune on this ship.’

‘Then it needs to go to people like us who appreciate it.’ They smiled conspiratorially. ‘The crucial thing is to maintain their trust. That’s why I’m careful when I play cards of an evening. If I wanted to, I could win almost every hand but that would give the game away, so I allow others to have their share of the winnings.’

‘I hadn’t realised you were a practised cardsharp Jerry.’

‘Oh, I have many strings to my bow.’

‘I’ve discovered that. What other secrets are there in store?’

‘That would be telling,’ he said, archly.

They were diverted by a shout that brought all the other passengers rushing to their side of the deck. A school of whales had appeared in the middle distance, rising playfully out of the water before diving back into it. Irene was diverted by the spectacle and Oxley savoured it for a while. He then looked along the line of passengers and saw how vulnerable they all were to anyone with light fingers. Pressed against the bulwark, feeling the spray and the wind in their faces, they were so enraptured by the antics of the whales that they’d never feel wallets being removed or watches being lifted gently from their waistcoat pockets. Tempted as he was, Oxley stayed his hand. The moment of truth would eventually come.

Only when the ship had sailed past the whales did Irene turn back to him. Her eyes were bright with wonder.

‘Wasn’t that a wonderful sight!’ she said.

‘There’ll be lots more before we reach New York.’

‘I’ve read about whales in books but I never dreamt that I’d actually see any. They were an absolute joy.’

‘Shall I tell you why?’ he asked. ‘They were celebrating their freedom. They have the whole ocean in which to play and they were revelling in the fact. We should do the same, Irene. Because we left England, we’ve bought our liberty and can enjoy it as much as that school of whales.’

‘They’re not entirely free,’ she argued. ‘People hunt whales.’

‘Then we have even more liberty than they do, Irene. Nobody can hunt us now. We’ll never have a harpoon hurled at us.’

‘What if Inspector Colbeck finds out where we’ve gone?’

‘That will never happen,’ he said with a confident laugh. ‘And even if it did, there’d be nothing he could do. Colbeck belongs in our past just like your father. We’ll simply forget him as a person and preserve his memory on our passports.’

‘It was an inspiration to call ourselves Mr and Mrs Colbeck.’

‘I regard it as theft of the highest order, Irene. We’re two unconscionable villains yet we bear the name of a famous detective.’ He smirked. ‘There’s something almost poetic about that.’

SS Jura, a vessel of the Allan Line, was a propeller-driven steamship capable of a speed of eleven knots. While its beam engines provided its motive power, it also had ample amounts of canvas to harness the wind. With a gross weight of 2,241 tons, it was bigger, heavier and more majestic than Leeming had ever imagined. Launched in 1854 for the Cunard Line, it had been a troop transport during the Crimean War and had given good service. It then plied Mediterranean routes before being transferred to the Atlantic where Liverpool, Cork and New York were its ports of call. When he first stepped aboard, Leeming discovered that the vessel had a pleasing solidity. Yet even though Colbeck had explained to him how an iron ship could float without sinking, he remained nervous. When it sailed off down the Mersey, therefore, he half-expected it to founder at any moment.

‘We’re so low in the water,’ he complained.

‘That’s because we have maximum coal stocks aboard,’ said Colbeck. ‘As they get used up, you’ll notice a progressive improvement.’

‘The engines are so loud.’

‘You’ll soon get accustomed to that.’

‘Can the ship really carry so many people? It’s a full passenger list and there must be well over a hundred crew members.’

‘I daresay she carried far more people when she was a troop ship. Soldiers, horses and equipment would have been crammed in. The Jura had no problem catering for such numbers. She came through the experience with flying colours.’

Leeming pulled a face. ‘I’m not sure that I will, sir.’

‘You’ll find your sea legs in time.’

‘I don’t think I have any.’ He looked up and down the deck. ‘I never thought she’d be this long.’

‘She’s over a hundred yards from stem to stern,’ said Colbeck. ‘There’s enough room for us all to promenade without bumping into each other.’

‘What are we going to do all day?’

‘We’ll soon fall into a routine, Victor. By the way, I noticed that they have chessboards available in the saloon.’

‘But I can’t play chess, Inspector.’

‘It will be a pleasure to teach you.’

For the first couple of days, Leeming was unable to concentrate on anything but the queasiness of his stomach. Once he adapted to the roll of the ship, however, he was able to exercise on deck and take a full part in the social activities on board. He shared a state room with Colbeck that had been ingeniously designed to make the utmost use of the limited space. They had comfortable bunks, a table and two chairs bolted to the floor, large cupboards and a porthole through which they could watch the waves rippling past. The food was excellent and the portions generous. The stewards were universally pleasant and efficient. Every effort had been made to ensure that the passengers enjoyed the voyage.

Colbeck decided that they would not divulge the true nature of their business aboard. He confided in the captain but everyone else was told that he and Leeming were visiting friends in New York. They could hide their credentials but they couldn’t curb their instincts. When a succession of thefts occurred from first-class state rooms, the detectives felt obliged to offer their help and – by setting a trap – they caught the thief red-handed. The captain was so grateful that he invited them to dine at his table.

A week after they’d set out, Leeming admitted that all his fears about the voyage had been without foundation. Over a game of chess with Colbeck, he even claimed to be relishing the experience.

‘It’s been an education,’ he said. ‘I’ve learnt something new every day. There are so many interesting people aboard.’

‘The most interesting person I’ve met is the chief engineer,’ Colbeck told him. ‘I spent half an hour in the engine room with him this morning. It’s fascinating to see the stokers at work. They’re the real heroes aboard this vessel.’

‘And there was me, wondering what we’d do all day.’

‘Think of all the stories you’ll have to tell your children.’

‘We’ve seen so many amazing things,’ said Leeming, moving a bishop to take one of Colbeck’s pawns. ‘And even when the weather keeps us below deck, there’s plenty to keep us occupied. Who’d have thought there’d be a library aboard?’

‘That book about New York I borrowed is a revelation.’

‘I’m still reading the novel you recommended – The Adventures of Roderick Random. I’ve never had time to read a whole book before.’

‘This is a voyage of discovery for you, Victor,’ said Colbeck, shifting his queen to capture one of Leeming’s knights. ‘You’re doing new things every day.’

‘Yes,’ said Leeming, using his bishop to capture another pawn. ‘Wait until I tell my children how easily I mastered chess.’

Colbeck smiled. ‘You haven’t quite mastered it yet.’

‘But I’ve taken all these pawns off you.’

‘I was happy to sacrifice them because it enabled me to relieve you of more important pieces. You should guard your king with more care, Victor.’ Colbeck moved his queen again. ‘Checkmate.’

Caleb Andrews was not the most sensitive of men but even he could not miss the change of mood in his daughter. As a rule, Madeleine had a sunny disposition and a natural optimism. Time and again, she’d cheered her father up or eased him gently out of any descent into grief and brooding. Their roles were reversed now. It was Andrews who was buoyant and Madeleine who was jaded. When he got back from work that evening, he spotted the signs.

‘What’s happened, Maddy?’ he asked.

‘Nothing has happened.’

‘Then why are you looking so miserable?’

She manufactured a smile. ‘I don’t feel miserable.’

‘You’ve been sad and distracted all week.’

‘That’s not true, Father.’

‘I speak as I find.’

‘Then you’re mistaken,’ she said with false brightness. ‘I’ve had such a good day at the easel that I probably worked too long. I’m tired, that’s all. Take no notice.’

Andrews was not fooled. He waited until they were eating their supper before he broached the subject again. She looked tense and sorrowful. Her mind was clearly elsewhere.

‘Dirk Sowerby was so jealous when I told him,’ he began.

She was bemused. ‘What’s that?’

‘You know how much Dirk wants to sail in a steamship. When I told him that Inspector Colbeck was crossing the Atlantic, he was green with envy.’ He drank some tea. ‘He is coming back, Maddy.’

‘Yes, I know.’

‘Time will fly past.’

‘It’s not doing that at the moment.’

‘Are you worried about him?’

‘Yes,’ she confessed. ‘I’m very worried.’

‘Steamships have a good safety record – unless they’re designed by Brunel, that is. You wouldn’t get me in one of his vessels.’

‘Don’t be so prejudiced.’

‘He’s our main rival, Maddy. Everyone who works for the LNWR hates the man. For a start, he’s so cocky.’

‘Robert hasn’t sailed on one of his ships.’

‘Then there’s nothing to get anxious about, is there?’

‘I’m not anxious.’

‘And I’m not blind. You’re my daughter. I know your ways.’

‘Yes,’ she said with a wan smile, ‘of course, you do. I’m sorry if I’ve been a bit lacklustre. I don’t mean to be.’

‘You miss him.’

‘I miss him a great deal.’

‘And you think something terrible could happen.’

‘Well, I was upset at first but only because I’d been reading American Notes. Charles Dickens sailed to America with his wife and they had a dreadful voyage. They were caught in a heavy swell and everything in their cabin was tossed about. Mrs Dickens thought they were going to drown.’

‘Did you mention this to the inspector?’

‘I did,’ she replied, ‘and he pointed out that Mr Dickens made the crossing in January when the weather was at its worst. It’s autumn now. Also, shipbuilding has improved since he went to America. Vessels are built to withstand whatever storms batter them.’

‘So you were worrying about nothing, Maddy.’

‘Not exactly …’

‘You mean that there’s something else?’

Madeleine hesitated. It was on occasions like this that she felt the absence of her mother or of a sympathetic female to whom she could talk in confidence. There was always plenty of light-hearted banter with her father and she would freely discuss any household matters with him. Emotional issues were more problematical. She tended to conceal those from him and try to resolve them on her own. This time, however, she felt the need of support. Her father was keen to help. She wondered if it was time to tell him the truth.

‘There is something else,’ she said, quietly.

‘I knew it.’

‘Though I fancy I’m probably fretting unnecessarily about it.’

‘Why not let me be the judge of that?’

‘It’s this investigation,’ she explained. ‘Robert has become obsessed with it. I know that he gets immersed in every case he deals with but this one is different. It’s made him so single-minded.’

‘Do you know why that is?’

‘Frankly, I don’t.’

‘Then let me tell you,’ said Andrews, tapping his chest, ‘because I understand what’s going through his mind. It’s those policemen, Maddy. Two were killed on the train and the other one was shot in London. Inspector Colbeck has a bond with fellow policemen, the same way that I do with engine drivers. It’s something that goes very deep. He’s single-minded because he’s chasing people who murdered his kin – at least, that’s what they’ll seem like to him.’

‘That’s not the whole story, Father.’

‘Yes it is, so you can stop losing sleep over it.’

‘It’s more personal than that.’

‘What could be more personal than a detective who worked alongside you on the case being shot dead?’

‘This is not about Constable Peebles,’ she said. ‘Robert was shocked by what happened to him but he’s driven by something from the distant past. He as good as said so when I last saw him.’

‘Did he explain what it was?’

‘No – that’s why I’m upset about it. I feel that he should have told me everything there is to tell. It’s so unlike Robert. He’s never concealed things from me before. This case has a real significance for him but he refused to say why. I feel as if I’m deliberately being kept ignorant,’ she said, shaking her head in despair, ‘and it’s not what I expect from the man I’m about to marry.’

* * *

A sudden squall cleared the upper deck of the Jura and made the vessel dip and rock on the choppy sea. While Leeming went into the saloon, Colbeck repaired to their state room to have some time alone. As he checked through the paperwork he’d brought with him, he picked out the passenger’s contract ticket, issued when he’d booked the passage. It was an interesting legal document, listing the obligations placed both on the shipping line and on the passenger. Trained as a lawyer, he noted the small print on the document. Among other things, it stipulated that the victualling scale had to be printed out in the body of the ticket. Consequently, the daily quantities of water and provisions for each person were listed. If the Jura defaulted in any way on its obligations, it was liable to legal redress.

Studying one form of contract made him reflect on another. Marriage was the most solemn contract of all, committing two people to lifelong conditions from which they could not waver. As he went through the service of holy matrimony in his mind, he was ready to commit himself to Madeleine when the moment arose. Yet somehow he was not prepared to state exactly when that moment would be. The urge to delay and prevaricate was implanted deep within him. Even though he could see how much distress it was causing Madeleine, he could not bring himself to name the day when he would make her his wife. The invisible barrier stopped him.

He recalled the joyous openness with which Ian Peebles had talked about his forthcoming marriage, and the way that Victor Leeming always looked back on his own nuptials with such fondness. Colbeck wished that his path to the altar had been as straight and uncomplicated as theirs. Before the wedding, the banns would have to be published. He remembered how nervous Leeming had been when that phrase about just cause or impediment had been read out before the congregation. Had his own banns been published, the phrase would have unsettled Colbeck even more because of the secret he’d nursed for so many years. Helen Millington was his impediment. Until she was laid to rest, he could never give himself wholly and exclusively to Madeleine Andrews. The only way he could finally reconcile himself to her death was by catching Jeremy Oxley.

It had been a despicable murder. Colbeck had been shaken rigid when he read the details of the post-mortem. He was a young and impressionable barrister at the time, not a hardened detective who’d learnt to look on hideous sights without flinching. The manner of Helen’s death was almost as horrid as the fact of it. Such was the searing effect on him that Colbeck had abruptly changed direction in life so that he could begin the hunt for Oxley. Equally keen to arrest Irene Adnam, he was struck by the power of love to induce blindness. Irene was so entranced by Oxley that she did not apprehend his true character. Had she been aware of what he did to Helen Millington before he killed her, she would have shunned his company in disgust.

Colbeck had a contract with the shipping line, but a far more important one with Madeleine Andrews existed. It would bind him for life. He had to remove the impediment to their marriage and return to her as a free man with no ghosts to keep them apart. As he thought about Madeleine now, he felt an upsurge of love for her that flooded through his entire body and left him exhilarated. It was an elation that had to be suppressed until the proper moment for release. Helen Millington had to be his sole inspiration for the time being. Once her unquiet spirit had been appeased, there would be a blissful future with Madeleine Andrews.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The suddenness of their departure from England had given them no time at all to plan for their future in a new country. That had troubled Irene deeply at first. She soon came to see that there was no need for alarm. Long weeks at sea gave them plenty of opportunity to discuss what they were going to do once they reached New York. Oxley was quick to realise that, if they befriended the right passengers, there was a fund of valuable information accessible to them. The voyage therefore became an exercise in collecting facts.

‘Ours is a great country,’ said Herschel Finn, expansively. ‘It rewards hard work and wise investment. If he has the right qualities, any man can succeed in America.’

‘That’s not true of England, alas,’ complained Oxley. ‘Family determines everything there. If you’re born into the aristocracy, you can lead a life of idle luxury. If you’re the child of a poor family, the chances are that you’ll remain in poverty for ever.’

‘It’s the main reason my father emigrated – not that he was exactly poor, mark you. His family ran a grocer’s shop in Leicester and, in the fullness of time, he would have inherited it. But he felt that there was more to life than serving bags of sugar and jars of pickled onions to his neighbours. So,’ said Finn, proudly, ‘he saved up his money and took ship to America.’

‘How old was he at the time?’ asked Irene.

‘He was barely twenty-one.’

‘That was very brave of him.’

‘My father was a brave man, Irene. He knew it would take time to fulfil his ambitions and he knew there’d be lean years beforehand. So he gritted his teeth and bent his back. And when the opening finally came,’ said Finn, snapping his fingers, ‘he seized it and moved into the textile business.’

‘It’s an inspiring story, Herschel,’ said Oxley.

‘It’s a typical American story.’

They’d liked Herschel Finn and his wife from the outset and it was only days before all four of them were on first-name terms. Finn was the owner of a cotton mill in Beverly, Massachusetts and of a wool carding mill in Blackstone River Valley in the same state. Wealth had given him a confidence that never even approached brashness. He was a man of medium height and average build who’d kept his hair its original colour and who carried his fifty years lightly. His wife, Libby, was a short, round, genial woman with a chubby face and dimpled cheeks. She seemed to exude benevolence. Hearing that their new friends were about to settle in America, the Finns had taken Oxley and Irene under their wing.

‘When you find your feet,’ offered Finn, beaming hospitably, ‘you must come and stay with us.’

‘Yes,’ added Libby, squeezing Irene’s arm, ‘we’d be delighted to have you folks as our guests.’

‘That’s very kind of you,’ said Irene.

‘We may well take you up on that invitation,’ warned Oxley.

Finn chuckled. ‘We’ll insist on it, Rober.’

The four of them were in the saloon, relaxing in upholstered chairs and enjoying each others’ company. The Finns had visited England so that Herschel could make contact with his surviving relatives and so that he could visit a number of textile factories to see if there were any technical improvements that he could adapt for use in his own mills. At both an emotional and business level, the visit had been highly successful but it had reminded Finn why he could not possibly live in the country that his father had left behind.

‘To begin with,’ he said, ‘we speak a different language.’

Oxley shrugged. ‘The words sound the same to me.’

‘But they don’t mean the same, Robert. In England, people seem to hide behind words. They’re too reserved and afraid to speak out. Where we come from, everything is much more open. We say exactly what we mean and mean exactly what we say.’

‘You and Libby are perfect examples of that. Here we are, chatting happily away on the strength of a very short acquaintance. You’ve both been so wonderfully open. To reach this degree of familiarity with any English passengers,’ said Oxley, glancing around the saloon, ‘would take years. Isn’t that so, Irene?’

‘I’d have said decades,’ she put in.

Their collective laughter was interrupted by the arrival of a steward. When they’d ordered refreshments, he went off with a tray under his arm. Conversation was resumed. Irene had marvelled at the way that Oxley had selected the Finns out of all the other passengers and made sure that he got to know them early on. In fact, however, it was Irene who helped to consolidate the friendship. Hearing that Finn owned textile mills, she immediately promoted her father to the board of directors of the Manchester mill from which he’d actually been sacked. Unknown to Silas Adnam, he was rescued from the abiding squalor of Deansgate to occupy an elevated position in British textile manufacture. Irene was even able to talk about visits she’d made to the mill when she was a child.

‘So,’ said Finn, becoming practical, ‘what are you folks going to do the moment you arrive in New York?’

‘From what you’ve been telling us about it,’ replied Oxley, ‘I think we’ll just stand around open-mouthed in awe. We’ll be the country cousins visiting the big city.’

‘You’ll need somewhere to stay.’

‘Can you recommend anywhere?’

‘Sure I can, Robert.’

‘Thank you – we’d be very grateful.’

‘What about that hotel where we stay, Herschel?’ said Libby.

‘That’s one possibility,’ agreed her husband, ‘but there are plenty of others. Robert and Irene can take their pick.’

‘Money is no problem,’ said Oxley, easily.

‘Then that makes the choice much easier. New York is a city of neighbourhoods. Some are safe, others are dangerous and others again are nothing but urban jungles with gangs roaming through them. For instance, you don’t want to go anywhere near Five Points. That’s completely lawless. Like London, I guess, there are places where crime just thrives.’

‘It’s the same in Manchester,’ said Irene, thinking of her father’s lodging. ‘There are some districts where a woman would never dare venture out alone.’

‘That’s shameful,’ opined Libby.

‘It’s the fault of our police,’ said Oxley, righteously. ‘There simply aren’t enough of them to keep major centres of population under control. We have far too many places where there’s no respect at all for law and order.’

‘That’s the basis of a civilised society,’ asserted Finn.

‘I couldn’t agree with you more, Herschel.’

‘Work hard, live within the law and attend church regularly. Those are the three guiding stars in my life.’

‘You always told me I was your guiding star,’ teased Libby.

Finn patted her hand. ‘You are, honey.’

‘Now find these good folks a hotel where they can stay.’

‘Yes,’ said Oxley, taking out a pad and pencil. ‘I can’t tell you how grateful Irene and I are to make such dear friends. You’ve turned this voyage into a joy. Now where would you advise us to stay?’

‘Before I tell you that,’ said Finn, responding to a nudge from his wife, ‘there’s something I must ask you. It will settle a wager I have with Libby. I hope the question won’t embarrass you.’

‘Not at all,’ said Irene.

‘Ask whatever you wish,’ added Oxley.

Finn leant forward. ‘Are you newly married?’

Oxley held Irene’s hand and she pretended to look coy. They exchanged an affectionate glance then nodded in unison.

‘There you are, Libby,’ said Finn, triumphantly. ‘I was right.’

‘I concede defeat, Herschel.’ Libby turned to the others. ‘My husband is never wrong about people. The moment he saw you, he said that you were on honeymoon. I do hope we’re not monopolising your time but we find you such delightful company.’

‘The feeling is mutual,’ said Oxley with his most charming smile. ‘We can’t tell you how much we look forward to seeing you every day.’

Herschel and Libby Finn chortled. They were hooked.

The voyage was not without its setbacks. Two days away from her destination, the Jura was caught in a violent storm that lashed her with rain, battered her with gale-force winds and turned the sea into an apparently endless switchback ride. The noise was ear-splitting. Leeming felt that Mother Nature was trying to deafen him before drowning him in the depths of the ocean. He could not believe that the vessel would ever survive such a tempest. Nor could he understand why Colbeck showed no anxiety as the ship rose high, plunged low and twisted at all manner of different angles. The ferocious rain was like a continuous firing squad aiming at the porthole in their state room. Any moment, Leeming expected it to shatter the glass and allow the sea to engulf them.

‘Why did you make me come on this voyage?’ he yelled.

‘I thought that you were enjoying it, Victor.’

‘How can anyone enjoy a storm like this?’

‘It will blow itself out before too long. Would you like a game of chess to take your mind off it?’

‘The pieces would never stay on the board.’

‘That’s nothing new,’ said Colbeck with a wicked grin. ‘Your pieces never stay long on the board when you play me. They seem to have made a suicide pact.’

As the ship listed again, Leeming clung to his chair. ‘I think that’s what we made when we agreed to sail to America. It was an act of suicide.’

‘It was a necessary response to the given situation. Wherever Oxley and Adnam go, we’ll set off in pursuit. They’re sailing on the Arethusa, remember. When they’re caught in a storm like this, they will fare even worse.’

‘Nothing could possibly be worse, sir.’

‘Yes, it could,’ said Colbeck. ‘The superintendent could be with us.’ Leeming’s laugh was a forlorn croak. ‘The Jura will not let us down, Victor. Try to ignore the discomfort.’

‘That’s like telling a drowning man to ignore the water.’

‘I find that very amusing.’

‘I find it terrifying!’ howled Leeming.

The rain eventually eased off and the wind relented. It took longer for the sea to stop slapping the vessel like a giant hand but there was noticeably less turbulence. From that point on, the voyage was blessed with good weather. Passengers were able to bask on deck again and put their fears behind them. Leeming felt as if he’d been reborn. He marked the occasion by beating Colbeck at chess for the first time. Unaware that he’d been given a certain amount of help by his opponent, he boasted about it for hours.

When they finally reached it, New York harbour was positively buzzing with activity. Crowds thronged the piers, wooden and iron vessels were safely moored and cranes were helping to unload luggage and freight. The pilot boat came out to guide the Jura to its berth. Ropes were tossed ashore and made secure. The gangplank was lowered and the passengers began to disembark. Once they’d been through customs, Colbeck and Leeming reclaimed their luggage and found a cab to take them to police headquarters. Captain Matt Riley was fascinated to learn the purpose of their visit.

‘Both of them are killers?’ he said in surprise.

‘Both of them are killers of policemen,’ stressed Colbeck.

‘We don’t have too many female killers here, Inspector. Oh, we have our share of domestic violence, of course, and, from time to time, a wife might hit a husband a bit too hard during a fight, but that’s not what I’d call cold-blooded murder. Tell me about Miss Irene Adnam.’

Matt Riley was a mountain of a man who seemed on the point of bursting out of his uniform. His craggy face bore the marks of several brawls and his thinning hair revealed some ugly scars on his head. When he grinned, it was possible to count the number of teeth on the fingers of one hand. His first impression of Colbeck had not been a flattering one. There was the whiff of a peacock about him that Riley instinctively disliked. Five minutes of conversation with him, however, had removed all his reservations about Colbeck. The inspector was patently an efficient and dedicated man with an intelligence not often found among policemen of any nation.

They were in Riley’s office which smelt in equal parts of pipe tobacco, damp, and stale beer. It was tolerably tidy and had a series of posters pinned to the walls. Riley sat at his roll-top desk and listened to Colbeck’s account of the career of Irene Adnam. He was struck by the amount of information they’d gathered about her in such a short time. Though he was sickened by the litany of their crimes, Riley could not suppress a grin when told of the name under which they were sailing.

‘So,’ he said, exposing his surviving teeth, ‘Inspector Colbeck has come to arrest Mr and Mrs Colbeck. It’s a real family affair.’

‘The joke was their undoing,’ Colbeck pointed out. ‘Had they called themselves something else, I might never have picked them out of the passenger list on the Arethusa.’

‘I suppose it’s a kind of compliment to you, Inspector.’

‘Well, they’ll get no compliments in return,’ said Leeming, sharply. ‘They’ll travel back to England under their real names.’

‘What about you, Sergeant?’

‘I’ll go with them,’ said Leeming.

Riley grinned again. ‘Does that mean I can’t poach you to join the New York Police Department?’ he asked. ‘I can always pick out a tough man when I see one. You’d be an asset to us.’

‘He’s not for sale,’ said Colbeck, politely. ‘Victor has a wife and family back in England.’

‘That’s not unusual. When I first came here, I had a wife and family back in Ireland. Talking of which,’ Riley went on, ‘did you stop at Cork on your way?’

‘Yes, we did. We picked up several passengers.’

‘It’s my hometown. I emigrated here when I was in my twenties. It was three years before I could afford to bring Kathleen and the boys over here. We’ve never looked back since.’ He felt Leeming’s biceps. ‘You’ve got strength in those arms. We could use it.’

Leeming declined the offer with a gesture. ‘I’m needed back in London.’

‘You know where I am, if you change your mind.’

Having established how the extradition procedure worked, Colbeck asked for advice about accommodation. Riley not only suggested a hotel, he offered to provide transport to get to it. He also pressed them to ask for any more help they might need.

‘You’ll have time on your hands,’ he argued. ‘How would you like to spend it?’

‘I promised to show Victor the sights of New York,’ said Colbeck.

‘Come on patrol with my men and you’ll see some real sights. When he sees what policing is like on this side of the Atlantic, the sergeant might think twice about going back home.’

‘I don’t know about that, Captain Riley,’ said Leeming.

‘We’ve always got room for an experienced detective.’

‘So have we,’ said Colbeck, firmly.

Riley laughed and massaged Colbeck’s shoulder. He took them out into the courtyard and beckoned to a cab driver. As their luggage was loaded onto the vehicle, the visitors thanked Riley for his help and told him that they would need his assistance when the Arethusa docked. Having no jurisdiction there, they had no right to arrest and hold the fugitives on American soil. They would have to wait until the extradition had been authorised before Oxley and Irene became solely their prisoners. Riley was happy to oblige.

‘I can guarantee our full cooperation,’ he said, chirpily. ‘It’s not often we have two killers trying to sneak into this country in order to evade justice in England. If it was left to me now, I’d execute the pair of them right here and save you the cost of their passages home.’

‘There are legal reasons why that can’t happen,’ said Colbeck.

‘That’s a great pity, so it is.’

‘We’ll just get them extradited and slip quietly away.’

Riley guffawed. ‘Oh, you will, will you?’

‘What’s so funny?’ asked Leeming.

‘You’ll soon find out, my friend.’

‘I don’t understand, Captain.’

Riley slapped him on the back. ‘Welcome to America!’

* * *

The first thing that Edward Tallis did when he arrived for work early that morning was to cross another day off the calendar on his wall. He estimated that his detectives would have arrived in New York by now but that it would take much longer for the Arethusa to complete its voyage. Counting the days to their arrest helped Tallis to bring retribution ever closer in his mind. He still regretted that he’d been unable to accompany Colbeck and Leeming but accepted that his place was directing operations at Scotland Yard.

In fact, he had deserted his desk for two days when he took a train to Edinburgh for the funeral of Ian Peebles. There’d been a dignified sadness about the whole event. While suffering pangs of remorse during the actual ceremony, Tallis had found that the most trying moment was when he had to face the constable’s parents and explain to them the exact circumstances of their son’s death. On the journey back to London, he’d sat in a hurt silence and relived the horror of the shooting. It had been his blunder. Peebles’ parents had been too well mannered to say so but they knew the truth.

Back in his office, the first thing he did was to open his cigar box. Before he could take one out, however, his guilt stirred. He snapped the lid back down and vowed that he would never smoke again until the killers were caught and brought back to England. Denial of his favourite pleasure would be a form of expiation. As he counted the days he’d ticked off, he saw how long it had been since he’d last enjoyed the solace of a cigar. Temptation flickered. With an effort, Tallis resisted it. Until the appropriate time, he pledged, he would no more lift the lid of the cigar box than he would open the drawer that contained his bottle of brandy. Both were a means of escape and he was entitled to neither. He had to wait for Colbeck and Leeming to release him from his vow.

They timed it to perfection. On the last evening before their arrival in New York, they robbed the people they had carefully selected as their victims. Working independently, Oxley and Irene slipped into vacant cabins, picked unguarded pockets, stole unwitting reticules and generally helped themselves to items that were too much to resist. They returned to their own cabin to compare notes and to count their spoils. It had been a most satisfying haul.

‘The beauty of it is,’ said Oxley, holding up a gold watch, ‘that most of the people won’t realise things have gone until it’s too late.’

‘I’m glad that we spared Herschel and Libby.’

‘They’re our friends.’

‘Yes,’ said Irene, ‘but they’re also very wealthy.’

‘I never even considered them. They’ve been too helpful to us. Who knows? We might accept that invitation to visit them one day.’

‘Will we still be calling ourselves Mr and Mrs Colbeck?’

‘I’ve grown to like the name. It has a pleasing resonance.’

Having sorted out the money and the items they’d stolen, they hid them cleverly in their respective valises. It was all part of the capital that would set them up in their new country.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘it’s been a long voyage but an interesting one.’

‘Yes – apart from the storm that lasted two days.’

‘Even that had its benefits, Irene. It gave us the chance to get to know Herschel and Libby much better.’ He smirked. ‘I don’t set as high a value on Herschel’s powers of observation as his wife does. According to Libby, he was sure that we’d just got married.’

‘That just proves how good a performance we gave.’

‘It doesn’t have to be a performance.’

Her face lit up. ‘You mean that we will get married?’

‘Anything can happen in America.’

‘Oh, Jerry, what a wonderful idea!’ she exclaimed.

‘I had a feeling you might like it.’

‘Nothing could make me happier.’

‘Let’s get ourselves settled in first,’ he said, looking at the gold watch. ‘It’s time to dress for dinner.’

‘Herschel and Libby insisted that we sit with them.’

‘Then let’s not disappoint them, Irene.’

After stowing the valises away, he crossed to the cupboard, pausing in thought when he’d opened the door. She looked up.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘I’m wondering if I should do it before or after the meal.’

‘Do what, Jerry?’

‘Complain to the captain that we’ve been robbed,’ he said. ‘There’s no better way to shift suspicion than to portray ourselves as victims.’ He made a decision. ‘Let’s leave it until afterwards,’ he went on. ‘Why spoil dinner by whingeing over a lost wallet? It would only upset Herschel and Libby. Yes, my mind is made up. I’ll tackle the captain later on.’

It had not taken them long to realise why Matt Riley had burst out laughing at their expense. Colbeck’s wish to catch the fugitives and take them quietly back home was an impossible one. On the day when they booked into their hotel, the first of many reporters came to hassle them. Word had travelled fast, leaked to the press by a policeman in return for a bribe. The arrival of two killers on a British vessel was an unusual event and it aroused an immense amount of interest. The detectives were soon weary of repeating the details to a succession of reporters. When the Arethusa finally docked, it would do so in the glare of publicity. Colbeck and Leeming had been disturbed at the thought but there was nothing that they could do about the situation. Their presence in the city was helping to sell newspapers. Unsought celebrity had been foisted onto them.

They had not wasted their time in New York. There was much to see and they had toured Manhattan in a cab. Leeming was amazed at the colourful prettiness of the houses and the comparative cleanliness of the streets. Areas of London that he’d patrolled in uniform had been filthy and noxious. There were doubtless run-down neighbourhoods in New York but they never visited any of them. What they saw were the wide avenues and bright, paved streets. Broadway had been a glorious sight, a winding thoroughfare down which coaches, cabs, carts, gigs, traps, phaetons and private carriages rumbled in abundance. Leeming had never seen so many liveried black coachmen. There was wealth in America and a desire to put it on display.

Captain Riley had been as good as his word, letting them see the work of the police department at first hand. At Colbeck’s request, he also arranged for them to visit The Tombs, the city’s notorious prison. In the course of their work, they’d been inside all of London’s prisons and several in the provinces. Conditions there had been harsh but none could match the regime at The Tombs for severity. There was a pervading stink of despair on its four galleries. Leeming was glad to get out into the fresh air again but Colbeck had been intrigued.

‘I wanted to see if his description was accurate,’ he said.

‘Whose description would that be, sir?’

‘Charles Dickens came here once. He wrote about it.’

‘I could write about it in one word,’ said Leeming, ‘but it’s not a word that I’d repeat in mixed company.’

Sightseeing and time spent with the police were only preludes to the main purpose of their visit. The day eventually came when the Arethusa reached its destination and sailed up the Hudson River with its passengers crowding the deck for their first glimpse of New York. The pilot boat was rowed out to shepherd the vessel to its berth. Colbeck and Leeming were part of the massed ranks on the pier. Captain Riley was with them but so was a much larger complement of uniformed policemen than the detectives had requested. Their visible presence caused Colbeck some disquiet.

‘We won’t want to warn them in advance,’ he said.

‘I’m not giving them any chance to escape,’ asserted Riley. ‘I’ve got some of my best men on duty today.’

‘It might be better if the sergeant and I go aboard first.’

‘Why is that, Inspector?’

‘They don’t know what we look like,’ explained Colbeck. ‘We can take them by surprise. Police uniforms would give the game away.’

Riley was obstinate. ‘We’ll do it my way.’

‘They’re our prisoners,’ Leeming pointed out.

‘They’re your prisoners in our country.’

The declaration was unanswerable. They were powerless. They had control neither over the police nor over the bevies of newspaper reporters who’d arrived early to secure vantage points on the pier. Having often rehearsed the boarding of the vessel in his mind, Colbeck accepted that it would simply not happen that way. Captain Riley would take the lead. Colbeck and Leeming would have to follow in his wake. As they watched the vessel gliding ever nearer the pier, they hoped that the two fugitives were not watching from the deck.

As soon as they entered the mouth of the river, Oxley and Irene had joined the rest of the passengers on deck. Now that they were at last in the harbour, they were standing with Herschel and Libby Finn, waving to the cheering hordes below and enjoying their reception. There had been moments when Irene had wondered if they’d ever arrive but those anxieties had all vanished now. Here was the country in which she would spend the rest of her life with a man who would become her husband. She was overwhelmed with relief and wonder.

Oxley shared her euphoria but it was short-lived. He, too, had been carried away at first by the sight of the welcoming multitude below. His eyesight was much keener than Irene’s, however. When he scanned the pier, he noticed the plethora of police uniforms. They were gathered around the point to which the ship was slowly moving. As the vessel got closer, he was able to see the faces of those below more clearly. They did not all belong to friends and well-wishers. Some of those waiting were not cheering at all. They were tense and watchful. Among them was a tall, striking, exquisitely tailored figure standing beside a police captain. Letting out a yelp, Oxley reacted as if he’d just seen a ghost.

‘We must go below,’ he said, grabbing Irene.

‘What’s the matter, Jerry?’ she asked.

‘You can’t miss all the fun,’ said Finn. ‘Stay and enjoy it.’

‘There’s something we left in our cabin,’ said Oxley, dragging Irene away. ‘You’ll have to excuse us for a moment.’

Their friends were baffled by their sudden disappearance but it was Irene who’d been most surprised. As they picked a way through the people on deck, she kept asking him what had happened. He waited until they were below deck and out of earshot.

‘It’s him, Irene,’ he said.

‘Who are you talking about?’

‘It’s Inspector Colbeck. He’s down there on the pier.’

‘You must be imagining things, Jerry,’ she said with a laugh. ‘How could you recognise him when you don’t even know what he looks like? More to the point, how could he possibly be in New York when we left him behind in England?’

‘It’s him, I tell you,’ he said, irritably. ‘I just sense it, Irene, and you know how acute my senses are. If he came by means of a steamship, he could have overtaken the Arethusa with ease. It’s just the kind of thing Colbeck would do. Instead of giving up the chase, as I’d hoped, he’s come after us.’

His panic was contagious. ‘What are we going to do?’

‘Let me think for a moment,’ he said, hand to his head. ‘I could be wrong. I pray to God that I am. If that’s the case, we have nothing to worry about. You must leave the ship with Herschel and Libby.’

‘What about you?’

‘I’ll take … other measures,’ he said.

‘Why can’t we leave together?’

‘We have more chance of eluding him if we’re apart. Don’t worry,’ he said, enfolding her in his arms. ‘If anything happens to you, I’ll come to your rescue.’

‘How?’ she asked, feverishly.

‘I don’t know but I’ll find a way somehow. I swear it.’

She was perspiring now. ‘Are you sure that it’s Colbeck?’

‘Yes, I am. Go back on deck and find the others.’

‘What shall I tell Herschel and Libby?’

‘Tell them that I’m searching for something that’s gone astray. Tell them I’ll be back directly. Go on, Irene,’ he urged, pushing her away. ‘They’ll be wondering where we’ve got to.’

‘I don’t like leaving you on your own.’

‘You have to. Now find Herschel and Libby. Being with them is the best chance you have of dodging Colbeck.’

She swallowed hard. ‘If you say so, Jerry.’

With grave misgivings, she went back to the staircase that led to the upper deck. She could hear the sound of many feet shuffling across the deck. When she looked behind her, Oxley had vanished.

The Arethusa was determined not to be rushed. After ploughing her way through the waves under full canvas for three thousand miles, she was bent on a leisurely arrival. She seemed to drift in slow motion towards the pier, unsure whether to stop there or to float gently back downriver. As her hull made contact with the pier, there was a resounding thud. It was followed by the sound of ropes crashing onto the stone. They were quickly tied in place to steady the vessel. Members of the crew lowered the gangplank and it was fixed in place. Before anyone could descend it, Captain Riley led the way up the gangplank and ordered everyone to stand aside so that he could step onto the deck. Colbeck and Leeming were at his heels with four uniformed policemen in attendance. Riley first spoke to the captain who was poised at the top of the gangplank to shake the hands of the departing passengers. There was a brief discussion. After listening to Riley’s explanation of why he and the detectives were there, the captain gave him permission to come aboard.

Riley’s stentorian voice quelled the heavy murmur on deck.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he shouted, ‘I’m sorry to delay you after a long voyage but there are two people with whom we need to speak as a matter of urgency.’ He stood on his toes to survey the assembled passengers. ‘We wish to speak to Mr and Mrs Colbeck. Could they please step forward?’

‘That’s you,’ said Libby, turning in amazement to Irene.

‘Keep your voice down,’ begged Irene.

‘Why?’

‘What’s going on?’ asked Finn.

‘He’s asking for Robert and Irene.’

‘What do the police want with them?’

‘It’s probably something to do with the theft from our cabin last night,’ said Irene, quivering in fear. ‘It’s nothing to worry about.’

‘How would the police onshore even know about that?’

But Finn’s question hung unheard in the air because Irene had already lost her nerve and squirmed off through the melee. Her American friends were at once shocked and bewildered. They’d never seen Irene act so impulsively and kept asking each other what had prompted her abrupt retreat. It was only when Riley barked out his request a second time that they found their voices.

‘Mrs Colbeck is over here,’ called Finn, raising a hand.

‘She’s just run away,’ added Libby.

‘We know her and her husband well.’

There was a commotion as Riley barged his way uncaringly through the passengers. Colbeck and Leeming followed him. When they reached the Finns, Riley asked them to identify themselves and they did so readily. Finn explained that he and Libby had befriended the Colbecks on the voyage and found them a charming couple.

‘You were grossly misled, sir,’ said Colbeck, stepping forward. ‘Since you know what they both look like, we’ll need your help to find this putative charming couple.’

‘Nobody is to leave the ship without producing their passports!’ bellowed Riley. ‘Every document will be checked at the gangplank by my men. Please disembark in an orderly fashion.’

Police reinforcements had now come on board to cluster around the entrance to the gangplank. The passengers were mystified but at least they could now begin to make their way off the ship. As the first trickle went down the gangplank, the search began in earnest behind them. Riley stayed close to Herschel Finn while Colbeck and Leeming kept Libby in tow. Unaware of what their shipboard friends had done, the Americans were nevertheless more than ready to help the police find them. In spite of their repeated questions, the captain and the two detectives refused to say why they were so anxious to find the missing passengers. The search was thorough. They could move about freely. Now that everyone was vacating the vessel, all the doors had been left unlocked. Apart from a few members of the crew, the areas below deck were empty. Feet clattering on the timber, the search party seemed to be walking through a hollow.

They opened cabin doors, looked under bunks and searched inside cupboards. Leeming soon wearied of the chase.

‘This is worse than hide-and-seek,’ he moaned.

‘They’re here somewhere,’ said Colbeck, looking in every corner. ‘They can’t possibly have left the vessel.’

‘Then where are they, Inspector?’

By way of an answer, a woman’s shrill scream was heard at the other end of a passageway. The detectives hurried along it with Libby waddling behind them. They discovered that Irene had been found hiding in the cupboard of what had been their cabin. Finn identified her. With a surge of energy, she tried to break away from Riley’s grasp but it was like iron.

‘Take your hands off me!’ she shouted. ‘I’ve done nothing wrong. Mr and Mrs Finn will vouch for me. My name is Irene Colbeck and I demand to be treated with respect.’

‘Oh, we’ll treat you with the greatest respect,’ said Colbeck, doffing his hat as he entered the cabin. ‘Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Inspector Robert Colbeck of Scotland Yard and I’d like to discuss the misappropriation of my name.’

Irene was transfixed. ‘You’re Inspector Colbeck?’

‘Yes, Miss Adnam, and this is Sergeant Leeming.’ He stood back so that Leeming could step forward. ‘We were friends and colleagues of Constable Peebles. Need I say more?’ Irene began to gibber. ‘Now tell us where Oxley is and we can put an end to this whole business.’

‘I don’t know,’ she cried. ‘I don’t know where Jerry is.’

‘Then we’ll search until we find him.’

‘Is he armed?’ asked Leeming.

‘Yes,’ replied Irene. ‘He has a gun.’

‘So have I, Miss Adnam,’ said Colbeck, tapping the weapon beneath his coat, ‘but I sincerely hope that there’ll be no need to use it. We’ve had enough killing as it is.’

‘I wish someone would tell us what’s going on,’ said Finn.

‘Yes,’ said Libby, ‘it’s all so confusing.’

‘You’re helping us to find two dangerous criminals, sir,’ said Colbeck with gratitude. ‘One is now in custody. Since the other is armed, it might be safer if you and your wife stay here with Captain Riley.’

‘Will you be able to recognise the rogue on your own?’ asked Riley, slipping a pair of handcuffs onto Irene’s wrist.

‘Oh, I think so. ‘I’ve never actually seen him but I’m sure I’ll know him straight away when I clap eyes on him.’

‘Be careful, Inspector!’ warned Libby.

She was horrified to hear that the amiable man she’d known as Robert Colbeck possessed a gun. Finn, however, was driven by curiosity as much as bravado and offered to accompany Colbeck and Leeming.

‘That won’t be necessary, Mr Finn,’ said Colbeck.

‘Leave this to us, sir,’ advised Leeming. ‘We came three thousand miles for the pleasure of capturing Jeremy Oxley.’

‘Oxley?’ Finn blinked. ‘I thought his name was Robert Colbeck.’

‘Not anymore, it isn’t,’ said Colbeck with asperity.

‘What will happen to Irene?’ wondered Libby.

‘She’ll remain in police custody until her partner in crime is arrested,’ said Riley. ‘Then the pair of them will go back to England to face the death sentence.’

Irene fainted. Riley was just in time to catch her. He put her gently down on one of the bunks. Hovering uncertainly, Finn and Libby did not know whether to pity or condemn her. They were shaken by the thought that they’d been taken in so easily by Irene and her supposed husband. Libby was the first to speak.

‘I knew that there was something odd about them,’ she claimed.

‘So did I,’ said Finn.

‘That’s not true, Herschel. You thought they were such nice people. They fooled you completely.’

‘Hey, now that’s not fair, Libby.’

Colbeck and Leeming did not stop to hear the marital dispute. They were already making a systematic search of the places they’d not yet visited. It was tiring work. The Arethusa was a large and capacious three-masted vessel, though lacking the refinements of the Jura. The problem was that there were far too many hiding places and there was always the danger that Oxley was moving from one to another as they closed in on him. Leeming began to lose patience but Colbeck was convinced they’d find their man in the end. He kept one hand on the weapon holstered at his side. When they’d exhausted almost every other possibility, they went down into the very bowels of the ship to the quarters occupied by the crew.

With a low ceiling of oak beams and only rudimentary facilities, the quarters stretched across the width of the ship. Since they were below the waterline, there was no natural light. The detectives were compelled to remove their top hats before they could move forward. Colbeck grabbed a lantern that dangled from a hook and held it up. As it pierced the gloom, it revealed an array of bunks and hammocks in close proximity. Leeming was disappointed.

‘Another dead end,’ he groaned.

Colbeck raised a hand to silence him, then he lifted the lantern higher and went off to take a closer look at the quarters. As his eyes adjusted to the half-dark, he could see the privations that the crew endured while the passengers travelled in relative comfort. Colbeck stopped in his tracks. Somebody was there. He could neither see nor hear anybody but he was certain that he was not alone. Slipping a hand under his coat, he removed the pistol from its holster and held it in readiness. When he inched forward, he did so with slow, quiet, deliberate footsteps. He did not get far. His toe suddenly stubbed against something and he looked down to see the dead body of a man splayed out on the floor. The corpse was almost naked and smeared with blood.

‘Over here!’ he called.

‘What have you found, sir?’ asked Leeming, coming forward until he saw the body. ‘Is that Oxley?’

‘No,’ said Colbeck. ‘It’s a member of the crew.’

He held the lantern low so they could see that the man’s skull had been smashed to a pulp. Behind the body was a pile of discarded clothing of a kind that looked incongruous in the crew’s quarters. There was a well-cut frock coat, fashionable trousers, a silk waistcoat, a cravat and a pair of patent leather shoes. An abandoned top hat completed the outfit. Colbeck assessed the situation at once.

‘Oxley has disguised himself as a member of the crew,’ he said in exasperation. ‘He’s probably left the ship already.’

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Retirement day had left Caleb Andrews with mixed feelings. As he celebrated with other railwaymen that evening at the pub near Euston they’d made their own, he was simultaneously buoyed up with delight and afflicted with remorse. Physically, he was ready to leave a job that made such heavy demands on his time and energy. His old bones, he told them, were crying out for a rest. Emotionally, however, his ties with the footplate were too strong to be easily broken. He could simply not imagine a life without the challenge, responsibility and sheer excitement of driving a locomotive. His departure from the LNWR was thus a confused jumble of gains and losses and it was far too early to weigh them against each other.

Over a week later, there was a more formal gathering of friends with whom he’d worked over the years. Held on a Sunday afternoon at his home, it had been organised by Madeleine who provided the refreshments. Only those who were not on duty that day were able to attend, but there were over a dozen guests crammed into the house in Camden. Men who habitually came home from work with the day’s grime on their hands, face and clothing were now in their best suits. Their faces gleamed and their hair was neatly combed. Over a drink and an unlimited supply of food, they exchanged anecdotes about Andrews and the room was filled with laughter.

Madeleine was pleased to see how much respect they had for her father. She knew most of those present. They included Gideon Little, her most ardent admirer at one time. Promoted to the rank of driver, Little was now married and had two small children. There was no longer any embarrassment between Madeleine and him. He obviously nursed no resentment against her because she had once rejected his advances. There was a mood of general hilarity in the house. She made sure that glasses were regularly filled and more food offered as soon as anyone’s plate was empty.

Dirk Sowerby joined her in the kitchen, his big, muscular body looking out of place in a smart suit. He accepted a cake from her.

‘You’ve done wonders with the food, Madeleine,’ he said.

‘I wanted to be part of the celebration,’ she told him, ‘and to see what his friends really think of Father.’

‘He’s the best driver in the LNWR.’

She smiled. ‘That’s what he keeps telling me. Father has never been one for hiding his light under a bushel.’

‘We’ve had some rare old arguments, Caleb and me, but it’s always a pleasure to work alongside him. But let’s forget your father for a moment,’ he said, moving closer and lowering his voice. ‘Is it true that Inspector Colbeck sailed to America on a steamship?’

‘Yes, it is.’

‘That’s always been one of my ambitions.’

‘Father mentioned that to me.’

‘To be honest, I’d wanted to run off to sea and join the navy but somehow I finished up on the railway. It’s not the same. On the other hand,’ he said with a vacuous grin, ‘it’s probably a bit safer.’

‘Lots of accidents happen on the railways, Mr Sowerby.’

‘That’s true but they’re not usually fatal. If a ship goes down in the middle of the ocean, then the chances are that everyone on board will drown. Not that that would have put me off, I hasten to say,’ he added. ‘Steamships, in particular, are less likely to founder. They’re not at the mercy of the wind and the waves in the way that a wooden sailing ship might be.’ His eye kindled. ‘How long will the inspector be away, do you think?’

‘I’ve no idea. It’s been well past a month so far.’

‘Then he could be on the way home already.’

‘I doubt it,’ said Madeleine. ‘He had to wait until another vessel reached New York and that was a sailing ship.’

‘When he does come back,’ said Sowerby, biting a piece off the cake, ‘could you ask him what it was like, please? I mean, I’d love to know in detail what sailing on a steamship is like. You could pass on the information to Caleb.’

Andrews came into the kitchen. ‘What’s that you’re saying about me behind my back, Dirk?’

‘I want to learn about steamships.’

‘I’ll find out all I can,’ promised Madeleine.

‘Thank you.’

Popping the remains of the cake into his mouth, Sowerby went back to the others. Andrews, meanwhile, helped himself to another cucumber sandwich. He nibbled at it before nodding with satisfaction.

‘You’ve done me proud, Maddy,’ he said.

‘You deserve it.’

‘If this is what it’s like, I’ll retire more often.’

‘I can’t promise to do this every Sunday,’ she said, laughing.

‘Everybody is saying how wonderful you look.’

‘It’s always nice to have compliments.’

‘I hope that it means you’re feeling better,’ he said, probing. ‘You’ve been very subdued this past month or so. We both know why.’

‘I’m fine now,’ she said, blithely.

He put a hand under her chin. ‘Are you happy?’

‘I’m very happy, Father.’

‘Then let’s make sure we keep it that way.’

Grabbing two more sandwiches from the table, he put them on his plate and went off to rejoin his friends. A roar of laughter greeted a comical remark he made as he entered the room. Left alone in the kitchen, Madeleine could now abandon the pretence of being happy. Having to maintain a permanent smile for their guests had taken a great effort. Behind the mask, she was worried and dispirited. She kept taunting herself with memories of disasters that had taken place at sea and feared for Colbeck’s life. What irked her was that there was no way to verify his safe arrival in New York or to confirm that he’d managed to capture the two fugitives without being injured.

She spared a thought for Estelle Leeming, having to cope alone with two children while her husband was out of the country, but at least the Leemings had married and started a family. She and Colbeck had taken neither of those life-changing steps. If anything happened to him, all that she would have to remember him by were a series of pleasant reminiscences. Madeleine yearned for something more. But the main cause of her discontent was the comment he’d made before they parted. Colbeck vowed to explain everything once the case was closed. Until then, he was devoting all of his attention to it and she was the loser as a result. What was it about the investigation that made it so important to him? Why had he not confided in her?

Madeleine kept repeating the questions until a head peeped around the door of the kitchen. Gideon Little gave a hopeful smile.

‘Is there any chance of another slice of that cake, please?’

The haul was astounding. Oxley may have escaped but he’d left his luggage behind him. In a room at police headquarters, Colbeck and Leeming had been assisted by Matt Riley as they went through the respective cabin trunks and valises belonging to Oxley and Irene. Booty of all types came to light. They laid it out on a table.

‘I’ll wager that some of this belonged to other passengers on the Arethusa,’ said Colbeck, dangling a gold watch. ‘This is the sixth one I’ve found. Nobody needs that many watches unless they’re planning to sell them to a pawnbroker.’

‘Look at this,’ said Leeming, extracting some jewellery from the lining of a trunk. ‘What a clever hiding place!’

‘Some of this property can be returned to its rightful owners,’ announced Riley. ‘I’ll have an advertisement put in the newspapers. If people can prove that it’s theirs, they deserve it back.’

‘You have to be careful, Captain. Whenever we advertise lost property, we always get lots of false claimants.’

‘It’s the same here, Sergeant. We once recovered six pairs of expensive dancing pumps. The first man through the door swore blind that they were his and begged us to hand them over.’

‘And did you?’

‘Oh, no,’ replied Riley, chortling. ‘We figured he might be lying when we noticed he only had one leg.’

When everything was arranged on the table, Colbeck did a quick estimate of its value and realised that, if this reflected their lifestyle, Oxley and Irene had a sizeable amount of capital at their disposal. It was no wonder that they could afford the luxuries of life. Irene was in a police cell at the other end of the corridor but Oxley remained at liberty. News of his escape had been carried in all the newspapers. A manhunt was taking place in New York. Riley was confident that his men would find the fugitive but Leeming was less optimistic.

‘He’s like a will-o’-the-wisp,’ he said.

‘We’ll catch him,’ insisted Riley.

‘He could be in another city now, if not in another state.’

‘No, Victor,’ said Colbeck after consideration, ‘I’m certain that Oxley is still in New York.’

‘What makes you say that, sir?’

‘I don’t think he’d desert his accomplice. After all, Irene Adnam was the person who rescued him from that train. He owes her a great deal. Even someone as ruthless as Oxley wouldn’t be able to walk away from that kind of obligation. He’ll be determined to free her.’

‘There’s no hope in hell of that while she’s here,’ said Riley. ‘At all times, there’ll be at least twenty men between him and the cell she’s being held in. Oxley is helpless against the New York Police Department.’

‘Then we have to make it easier for him, Captain.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘We need to bait a trap. We’ll never catch him otherwise. He’s far too slippery. Since we can’t get to him,’ said Colbeck, stroking his chin meditatively, ‘we have to devise a way to bring him to us.’

‘You have an idea,’ said Leeming, approvingly. ‘I know that tone of voice, Inspector.’

‘It might work and it might not.’

‘What’s the plan?’ asked Riley.

‘You’re going to get your wish, after all,’ said Colbeck, an arm around Leeming. ‘You were eager to recruit Victor so I’m going to let you have him.’

‘I don’t want to join the police here!’ protested Leeming.

Colbeck smiled enigmatically. ‘Wait until you hear the conditions of service,’ he said, ‘and you may change your mind.’

Oxley had escaped from the Arethusa without any difficulty. In his stolen clothing, he’d merged with the other crew members and helped to carry the luggage down the gangplank. It was placed on the pier so that porters could load it on to handcarts. Oxley had simply mingled with the crowd and, as it drifted away, he went with it. Posing as one of the porters, he got through customs without even being challenged. Once clear of the harbour, he hailed a cab and headed for one of the hotels recommended by Herschel Finn. Since he could hardly book in to such a respectable establishment looking like a sailor on low pay, he first found a menswear shop and transformed his appearance. When he stepped into the street, he looked like a gentleman again.

Forced to leave his luggage behind, he still had three assets. He had an appreciable amount of money and he possessed a gun. His greatest asset, however, was his acute sense of danger. Having lived off his wits all his life, he felt able to cope with anything. Since the hotel would be suspicious if he arrived with no luggage, he bought himself a valise and filled it with the items he might need during his stay. Then he took a room and stayed in it for the best part of a day. To keep track of the search for him that was taking place, he had a copy of the newspaper sent up to his room. The description of him contained details of clothing that he’d now discarded. The police were looking for a sailor from a British ship and not the beau he’d now become.

Having got free himself, his only concern now was to rescue Irene. The newspaper reported that she was in police custody but he had no chance of reaching her there. He had to be patient. Frustrating as it was, there was no alternative. On the third day, he felt the first flicker of an opportunity. There was a report in the newspaper that Irene Adnam was to appear at the courthouse the following day to face extradition proceedings. Oxley was reassured. It looked as if they’d given up hope of capturing him and were intending to return to England with their prisoner. It was unlike Colbeck to abandon a hunt but even he would have to accept the impossibility of finding a fugitive in a country as vast as America. The inspector was a realist. He would not spend time indefinitely chasing moonbeams.

Oxley’s chance had come. Planning could begin.

‘Your father was very proud of you, Miss Adnam,’ said Colbeck.

‘I’d rather not talk about him,’ she snapped. ‘He means nothing to me now.’

‘He must have meant something or you wouldn’t have given him so much money. You wouldn’t even have told him that you were leaving the country. Against all the odds, you have a conscience.’

‘Father belongs in my past.’

‘He was proud of you until he discovered the truth. It’s amazing what knowing the full facts about a person can do,’ said Colbeck. ‘It helps you to see them in the round.’

Seated opposite each other at a table, they were alone in a small, locked room adjacent to the cells at police headquarters. It was the first time that Colbeck had been able to question her on his own. After the crisis of her arrest, Irene had regained her composure. Now that he was so close to her, he could see that she did not resemble Helen Millington to any degree. Colbeck was grateful for that. She had similar features but their arrangement was quite different. Above all, she lacked Helen’s bloom and innocence. Irene had a doll-like beauty that caught the eye. Helen’s beauty could reach into a man’s soul.

‘Do you know why I asked to speak to you?’ he enquired.

‘You just want to gloat, Inspector.’

‘Why should I want to do that?’

‘It’s because you finally caught me,’ she said, ‘though exactly how you did it, I still don’t know. You can do as you wish with me,’ she went on with an attempt at defiance. ‘Jerry escaped. That’s a great consolation. You’ll never get anywhere near Jerry.’

‘That’s palpably untrue, Miss Adnam. We got very close to him on the Arethusa. By the way, do you know how he managed to elude us on the ship?’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘He killed one of the crew and stole his clothing.’

‘You’re making that up.’

‘I’m not, I promise you. The man’s name was Nathan Holly. It turns out that he has a wife and family back in Liverpool. They’ll be awaiting his return. What they don’t yet know,’ said Colbeck, ‘is that his head was cracked open by a blunt instrument. I suspect that it might have been the butt of Oxley’s gun.’ He looked into her eyes. ‘Are you happy to be the accomplice of a man for whom human life is so cheap?’

‘Jerry only did what he had to do.’

‘Are you saying that murder can be justified, then?’

‘In this case – yes, it can.’

‘What about the murder of those two policemen?’

‘That, too, was necessary.’

‘I don’t believe that it was, Miss Adnam. You had a weapon. You could have held it on the policemen and ordered them to release Oxley. You could have handcuffed them so that they couldn’t pursue you,’ he said. ‘In fact, there are all sorts of things you could have done other than shooting one man dead then hurling the two of them under an oncoming train.’

‘That wasn’t my idea!’ she shouted, hands to her temples.

‘Did you raise an objection?’

‘No – it all happened so quickly. I had no time.’

‘But you do have time now, Miss Adnam,’ Colbeck told her. ‘You have plenty of time to reflect on the crimes you helped to commit while you and Oxley were together. In retrospect, I think you’ll find, they were neither necessary nor justifiable.’

Colbeck paused to allow time for his words to sink in. Irene had a surface hardness that he believed he could penetrate. She was not as cold and heartless as Oxley. In talking about the escape from the train, he’d already put one small wedge between them. If his plan was to succeed, he needed to insert a much larger one.

‘How well do you know Jeremy Oxley?’ he asked.

‘I know him extremely well. He’s a wonderful man.’

‘Then you have a warped idea of wonder, Miss Adnam. Had you seen the way that Nathan Holly’s skull had caved in, I doubt that you’d have hailed his attacker as a wonderful man. I leave it to your imagination,’ said Colbeck, ‘how two human beings look when a train passes over them at high speed. The remains had to be gathered up in a couple of sacks.’

She began to retch and pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve to hold against her mouth. He gave her another respite. Her defences were weakening. Irene was starting to look like a cornered animal. At length, Colbeck resumed the interrogation.

‘Did he ever mention that he’d killed a young woman?’

‘Yes, he did.’

‘Were you shocked?’

She lowered her head. ‘I must confess that I was.’

‘Did it make you fear for your own safety?’

‘Not in the least.’

‘I think you’re lying, Miss Adnam.’

‘Jerry would never have hurt me!’ she cried.

‘Do you know how he murdered that young woman?’ There was a long pause. She refused to look at him. ‘I think that you do. I think that he told you that he strangled her.’

Her head came up. ‘He also told me that you and this woman were close friends,’ she taunted, ‘and that you were the one who persuaded her to give evidence in court against Jerry. That’s why you’ve been chasing him so hard all these years, isn’t it? You were in love with her.’

Caught off guard by her attack, Colbeck felt as if he’d been slapped across the face. It was a sobering moment. He needed a while to control the intense feelings that had suddenly welled up inside him. He inhaled deeply through his nose.

‘Her name was Helen Millington,’ he said, solemnly, ‘and what you say about her is, to some extent, correct. I make no apology for my friendship with her. She was a remarkable young woman. I just hope that you will make no apology for someone for whom you care, Miss Adnam. Hear the whole story and you will see that he doesn’t deserve it. As I said earlier, it’s only when you know the full facts about someone that you see them in the round and can arrive at a proper judgement.’

‘You’ll say anything to blacken Jerry’s name,’ she sneered.

‘I would have thought that it was black enough as it is. You don’t have to believe me, of course. That’s your privilege. But you must ask yourself why I should trouble to confide details that are excruciatingly painful to me.’

Irene could see the sincerity in his eyes. She was apprehensive. He was about to tell her something she had no wish to hear. She flapped a hand and turned away.

‘He strangled her,’ she said. ‘What more is there to say?’

‘He obviously didn’t tell you what he did to her beforehand.’

‘That’s irrelevant.’

‘Not in my book,’ said Colbeck, forcefully. ‘Every detail is highly relevant because it tells me exactly the kind of man that Oxley is.’

‘You’ll never change my view of him, Inspector.’

‘I don’t need to – Helen Millington will do that for me. She was about the same age as you, as it happens, and equally as beautiful. She’d led a blameless life. It was her ill luck to witness a man being shot outside a jeweller’s shop but she had the presence of mind to take a close look at the killer. It was Oxley.’

‘I know all this.’

‘Then you’ll know why he took his revenge on her.’

‘Jerry has a temper,’ she conceded. ‘He can act rashly.’

‘I’m glad you’ve found a defect in this paragon,’ said Colbeck, ‘because I’m going to identify a few more. It was not enough for him to kill Miss Millington, you see, he had to make her suffer for her bravery in coming forward. When he discovered where she lived, he abducted her and spirited her away to a place where nobody would interrupt them. He stripped her naked and tied her up with wire that cut deep into her wrists. The first thing he did – and I choose a polite phrase to cover a brutal act – was to relieve her of her virginity. Jeremy Oxley then began to torture her.’

As he related the details, Colbeck’s voice became hoarse with disgust and his head began to pound. Seeing that he’d finally got her attention, however, he forced himself to go on and talk about things that had haunted him for years. Irene tried not to listen but the words kept hammering away at her ears. She was revolted. Much as she wanted to disbelieve it all, she knew that his account had the ring of truth. Oxley did not simply diminish in her esteem. He slowly turned into a ravening beast. There had been hints. Since the time they’d been together, there’d been several hints of darker passions in him, moments when she prayed that she would never be close to him if he lost control of his temper. That was what he’d done with Helen Millington. In a fit of anger, he’d abused her, tortured her and mutilated her so badly that neither her parents – nor Colbeck – had been able to identify her from her face.

When it was all over, Colbeck was as moved as Irene had been.

‘I’m sorry I had to tell you all that,’ he said, quietly. ‘I just wanted you to understand why I’ve dedicated myself to the capture of Jeremy Oxley. He has no place in a civilised world.’

Preparation was everything. Oxley had learnt that long ago. If he failed to make adequate preparation for a crime, then the chances of a successful outcome were lessened. Time was on his side. He had a whole day in which to appraise the building and to observe the normal procedure at the courthouse. First of all, he strolled past and took a close look at the front. Then he walked around the block so that he could examine the building from the rear. Returning to the front, he crossed the road and went into the bookshop opposite. Pretending to study a book, he kept one eye on the window. From his vantage point, he could see police vehicles arrive at the courthouse. Each followed the same pattern. They would turn into the yard at the side of the building. The driver would then unlock the door at the back of the van and the prisoner would be brought out, handcuffed to a second policeman. All three of them went into the courthouse.

It was a simple, unvarying routine. Having watched it three times, Oxley knew it off by heart. His next step was to get inside the building so that he could learn its geography. It involved dodging various court officials but he was adept at that. He eventually worked his way around to the entrance where the prisoners were admitted and made a note of the rooms through which they’d have to pass. At that point, he was disturbed by a janitor.

‘Can I help you, sir?’ asked the man.

‘I was looking for a …’

A smile and a gesture replaced the word. The janitor led him to the lavatory at the side of the building, explaining pointedly that it was not generally accessible to members of the public. Oxley had already taken the trouble to change some of his money into the local currency. He responded to the broad hint from the janitor by pressing some coins into the man’s hand. It was a sound investment. Thanks to the janitor, Oxley had stumbled on another vantage point. Through the small, rectangular window in the lavatory, he had a good view of the yard into which Irene would be driven next day.

Oxley was pleased with his preparations. All he had to do now was to familiarise himself with the rest of the interior so that he could plan an escape through a rear exit. When he was challenged by one of the court ushers, he pretended that he was unwell and in need of fresh air. The man kindly showed him the quickest way to the exit at the back of the building. There was a cab rank thirty yards away. If he could smuggle Irene out of the courthouse, they could be lost in traffic within a minute. Only one thing remained. Walking around the block to the front of the courthouse, he entered the public gallery in order to watch part of a trial. As he perched on the hard bench and looked down at the wretch standing in the dock, Oxley permitted himself a complacent smile. He’d found the perfect refuge. No matter how intense the manhunt for him, the one place they’d never dream of looking for him was in a court of law.

Habits of a long working life could not easily be changed. Though he had talked about staying in bed until late morning, Caleb Andrews was downstairs at his usual time. Madeleine was awakened by the sound of her father walking around the uncarpeted kitchen. Unable to sleep, she too resumed the early breakfasts. The problem was that he was almost always there. She encouraged him to go out but Andrews preferred to stay in the house, chatting to her when she wanted to be alone, standing behind her and clicking his tongue in disapproval as she tried to paint. It was more than irritating. In taking his retirement, Andrews had effectively stopped her from working as well. Her patience began to fray.

The situation became so bad that she decided to take up the offer made by Colbeck. His house was in John Islip Street and he’d urged her to make use of it. Madeleine paid a preparatory visit. The servants knew her well and treated her with the respect befitting a future mistress of the house. They were happy to let her roam around at will. She was familiar with the downstairs rooms, particularly the library. It was the source of her education and had provided her with an endless succession of books. As she entered it once more now, she was impressed afresh by the ornate bookshelves around three walls, by the nest of occasional tables and by the elaborate desk. Colbeck’s father had been a successful cabinetmaker and the library was a striking example of his handiwork.

Madeleine realised with a start that it was the first time she had ever been in the house without Colbeck. Her immediate response was that she was trespassing, intruding on his privacy. Then she reminded herself that she would one day live there and have to shed any feelings of humility. Wandering around the downstairs rooms, she was bound to compare Colbeck’s situation with her own. He’d inherited a comfortable home and enough money to permit an existence of relative idleness. It was to his credit that he chose instead to pursue a career in the Metropolitan Police Force. Coming from a very different background, Madeleine had more modest expectations. In the event of her father’s death, she would inherit the house and what little of his savings he left behind him. In moving to John Islip Street, she would be climbing several rungs up the social ladder. It was a forbidding yet curiously inspiring prospect. Luxuriating in the home she would share with Colbeck, she was determined to prove herself worthy of him.

As she looked to the future, however, doubts began to cloud her mind. Would he survive the voyage to and from America? After all that time apart, would his feelings for her remain unchanged? Why had there been an element of mystery about the investigation? Was he still thinking about her? When would he return? All her fears ultimately rolled into one crucial question.

Where was he?

‘It’s too tight,’ said Leeming as he did up the buttons. ‘And the hat is far too big for me.’

‘This is not a fashion parade, Victor,’ said Colbeck, amused. ‘Stop complaining. You look fine to me.’

‘And to me,’ agreed Riley, appraising them both. ‘The uniforms might have been made for you.’

It was not true. Reduced to the ranks, Colbeck was wearing a constable’s uniform that was baggy on him. At least it gave him freedom of movement. Leeming felt he was being pinched under the armpits. He had to wear the hat at a rakish angle to stop it from falling too low over his forehead. They were in Riley’s office, going through the last details of their plan.

‘What if Oxley doesn’t turn up?’ asked Riley.

‘Then I can get out of this uniform and breathe properly again,’ said Leeming with a grimace.

‘He’ll turn up,’ insisted Colbeck. ‘It’s too good a chance to miss. Oxley will know that there may not be another one. Will your men be in position, Captain?’

‘Have no worries about them,’ said Riley. ‘They’ll be placed in strategic positions around the courthouse. I took your advice. We don’t want to spook him with the sight of too many uniforms. All my men will be in plain clothes.’

‘I wish that I was,’ grumbled Leeming.

‘It’s not like you to miss an opportunity to arrest a killer,’ said Colbeck, ‘especially one who murdered a colleague of ours.’

‘That’s what worries me,’ admitted Riley. ‘This man is armed. We know he doesn’t hesitate to kill. All it takes is a warning from the prisoner and one of you will be shot dead.’

‘Miss Adnam won’t raise the alarm, Captain Riley.’

‘You can’t be sure of that.’

‘Oh yes I can.’

‘She’s in love with this man,’ said Riley. ‘If she sees that he’s in danger, she’s bound to yell out.’

‘That’s a good point,’ said Leeming. ‘We’re taking a big risk.’

‘And there’s something else to bear in mind, Inspector. Didn’t you tell me that he’s tried to shoot you before? When he sees you right in front of him, he won’t be able to resist the temptation.’

‘He won’t recognise me,’ explained Colbeck. ‘It was because of mistaken identity that Constable Peebles was shot in my place. And he’s never set eyes on the sergeant either. He’ll assume that we are what we look like – two New York policemen.’ When he saw Leeming desperately trying to adjust his uniform, he laughed. ‘It’s only for one morning, Victor,’ he said. ‘Once he’s in custody, you can change back into your own clothing.’

Oxley arrived at the courthouse early so that he could rehearse the escape. The police would bring Irene through the side door, then go through an anteroom and into a corridor that led to the courtroom. By going down the corridor in the opposite direction, it was possible to reach the rear exit. Oxley made the short journey a few times to see how long it would take them. Once in the street, they could run to a waiting cab and be driven away at speed. It was now only a question of waiting. The newspaper had talked of proceedings beginning at a specific time. Fifteen minutes beforehand, Oxley was hiding in the lavatory, watching the yard through the window he’d left slightly ajar.

He heard the clatter of hooves and the rumble of wheels. The black police van with its barred windows rolled into the yard. It came to a halt and the driver got down in order to unlock the door at the rear. A second policeman emerged with Irene handcuffed to his wrist. He helped her down the step. Oxley was upset to see how pale and haggard she was. He watched all three of them move to the side door. Leaving his hiding place, Oxley rushed to the anteroom and stood behind the door with his gun in his hand. As soon as the newcomers entered, he slammed the door shut behind them and thrust the barrel against Leeming’s temple.

‘Release her at once!’ he demanded.

‘Jerry!’ she screamed in surprise.

‘Do as I say,’ he shouted, moving the gun to point at Colbeck. ‘Stand where you are.’ He turned and punched Leeming. ‘Hurry up!’

‘Miss Adnam doesn’t wish to go with you,’ said Colbeck, calmly.

‘Of course she does!’

‘Why not ask her?’

Oxley swung round to her. ‘What’s he talking about, Irene?’

Irene shrank from him. ‘Stay away from me, Jerry.’

‘Don’t talk nonsense. I’ve come to rescue you.’

‘I know what you did to that woman you strangled.’

He gaped at her. ‘Why on earth bring that up now?’

‘Miss Adnam finally sees you in your true colours,’ said Colbeck. ‘I was able to tell her exactly what sort of a man you really were. Yes,’ he went on as realisation slowly showed in Oxley’s eyes, ‘my name is Robert Colbeck and I was a good friend of Helen Millington. You’ll be charged with her murder as well as with that of your other victims.’

Oxley was bewildered. Expecting to rescue Irene from two New York policemen, he was instead confronted with the very man from whom he’d fled to America. It was only a momentary confusion but it was enough for Colbeck. Whipping out a truncheon from beneath his coat, he smashed it against the wrist holding the gun, forcing Oxley to drop it to the ground. Leeming tried to grab him with his free hand but Oxley reacted swiftly to push him hard against Colbeck. In the seconds that Colbeck was impeded, Oxley darted from the room and sped down the corridor towards the rear exit. As he came hurtling out into the street, he intended to race to the cab rank but the huge and intimidating figure of Captain Riley was blocking his way. Other uniformed policemen suddenly materialised out of nowhere.

Dashing back into the courthouse, Oxley rushed up a flight of stairs with no idea where they might lead. Colbeck pounded after him, discarding his hat on the way. Oxley reached a landing and ran along it until he found a second set of stairs. Conscious that Colbeck was gaining on him, he turned to fight him off but it was a mistake. As Oxley raised his fists to beat him away, Colbeck dived for the man’s legs and brought him crashing to the floor. They grappled, rolled over and struggled hard to gain the advantage.

Oxley had a power born of desperation, punching, kicking out and biting for all he was worth. He managed to clamber on top of Colbeck and got both hands to the inspector’s neck, applying pressure with his thumbs. Colbeck had a vision of Helen Millington in the same position, having the life choked out of her. Unlike her, however, he was no weak and defenceless young woman with wrists bound together by wire. He could fight back. Bucking and twisting madly, Colbeck put all his energy into a vicious right hook that caught Oxley on the ear and sent him sprawling sideways in a daze. Colbeck gave him no time to recover. Punching him relentlessly with both fists, he only stopped when Oxley was unconscious. As he panted away and felt blood trickle down his face, Colbeck looked at the man he’d been hunting for so long. Turning Oxley over, he pulled out the handcuffs attached to his belt and secured the prisoner’s wrists behind his back.

It was all over. Helen Millington’s killer had finally been caught.

Extradition procedures took less than a day to complete. Because Irene refused to stand beside Oxley in the courthouse, their cases had to be dealt with separately. Colbeck was very grateful for the help given by Captain Riley and his men. Having been drafted into the New York police for a morning, Leeming decided that he preferred life in plain clothes as a Scotland Yard detective. With their prisoners in handcuffs, they set sail for home on the Etna, another propeller-driven steamship. On their way, they promised to give Ireland a friendly wave on Matt Riley’s behalf. Though the return voyage took longer, it seemed to be quicker because their mission had been accomplished. They reached Liverpool in the pouring rain but nothing could dampen their spirits. On the train journey to London, the detectives travelled in separate compartments. Leeming looked after Irene Adnam while Colbeck stood guard over Jeremy Oxley. Their prisoners were duly delivered into police custody.

‘Congratulations!’ said Tallis, shaking their hands in turn. ‘This has been a signal triumph for all of us.’

‘I don’t remember that you came to New York with us, sir,’ said Leeming, annoyed that the superintendent was claiming some glory.

‘I was there in spirit, Sergeant. I also authorised the trip.’

‘It was the commissioner who did that.’

‘Why quibble over details?’ asked Colbeck, stamping out the row before it took flight. ‘The truth of it is that we all stand to gain from this escapade. First and foremost, two killers will now be condemned to death for their crimes and their victims have been avenged. Secondly, we’ve gained unanimous praise in the press.’ He smiled at Tallis. ‘I was pleased to see that your contribution was recognised, sir. You’ve earned their respect at last.’

‘I’m not so foolish as to think that,’ said Tallis, grimly. ‘They’ll praise me one day and stone me the next. However, that’s in the nature of journalism and I have to endure it with my usual stoicism.’ Sitting behind his desk, he eyed his cigar box as if about to attend a reunion with an old friend. He rubbed his hands together. ‘Now, then,’ he ordered, ‘sit down, the pair of you. I want to hear the full details.’

As Leeming groaned inwardly, Colbeck came to his assistance.

‘There’s no need for the two of us to do that, Superintendent,’ said Colbeck. ‘I’m in possession of all the facts. Victor has been away from his wife and family for a long time. On grounds of compassion, I think he should be allowed to go home to them now.’

Leeming rallied. ‘Thank you, Inspector.’

‘Well,’ said Tallis, grudgingly, ‘as you’re aware, I don’t normally yield to any compassionate appeals but this is a special case. You’ve done sterling work, Sergeant. Because of that, we need detain you no longer. You may depart.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Leeming, moving swiftly to the door before Tallis changed his mind. ‘Thank you very much.’

After shooting Colbeck a look of gratitude, he went out of the room. Sitting down, Colbeck composed his thoughts. There was much to tell but Tallis would only get an attenuated version of it. Like the sergeant, Colbeck was also anxious to get home as soon as he could.

‘This is truly splendid news,’ said Tallis, grandiloquently. ‘It wipes the slate clean of any mistakes we may have made during the investigation. I will have great pleasure in passing on the tidings to the Wolverhampton Borough Police and even greater pleasure in writing to the parents of Constable Peebles and to the young lady to whom he was betrothed.’

‘I hope it will bring them a measure of satisfaction, sir.’

‘With luck, it will take the edge off their sorrow.’

‘It may be too soon to do that,’ said Colbeck. ‘Bereavement must run its course. But at least they won’t be tormented by the thought that the constable’s killers escaped justice.’

Tallis wriggled in his chair. ‘Tell me all, Inspector.’

‘Well, sir, it’s rather a long story …’

It had been a good choice for a studio. Situated on the first floor at the rear of the house, it was a large room with a high ceiling. Madeleine set up her easel in a position where it caught the light pouring in through the two windows. Colbeck had singled the room out for her and – now that she’d actually tried to work in it – she saw that his judgement had been sound. There were immediate gains. She’d escaped the well-intentioned interference of her father and given him the freedom of their home during the day. Of much more satisfaction to her was the fact that she was in the house where Colbeck had been born and brought up. It was filled with mementos of him and with clear indications of his character. When Madeleine was working there alone, she somehow felt that he was beside her.

Her latest painting featured a locomotive that her father had actually driven. It enabled her to get expert advice from him but it also left her open to bitter reproaches when he felt she’d got a detail wrong. Working from sketches she’d made, Madeleine was now at the stage where the final touches could be applied. She stood back to study the painting with a critical eye. When there was a tap on the door, she barely heard it. It needed a second, harder tap to claim her attention. Madeleine opened the door, expecting to see one of the servants there. Instead, it was Colbeck, beaming at her with arms widespread.

‘Do you remember me?’ he asked.

‘Robert!’ She almost swooned as she went into his embrace.

‘I called at your house but your father told me that you were here.’ He looked around with approval. ‘I told you this would make an excellent studio.’

‘Oh, forget about me,’ she said, pulling him into the room. ‘You’re safely back home in England, that’s all I care about.’

He kissed her then stood back to gaze at her. ‘It’s a joy to see you again, Madeleine.’

‘You look different.’

‘I’m over two months older since we last met, that’s why.’

‘No, it’s something else,’ she said, scrutinising his face. ‘You were so serious and preoccupied before you left, but not anymore. It’s as if a great weight has been lifted from your shoulders.’

‘It’s more of a great cloud that’s finally floated away. It’s been hanging over me for far too long. In fact,’ he went on, ‘that’s what I want to tell you about, Madeleine. This case meant a lot to me.’

She put a hand on his mouth. ‘Say no more, Robert.’

‘But you deserve an explanation.’

‘You’re home again – that’s the only explanation I need. You left me for a long, lonely time but the Robert Colbeck I love has come back at last. One look at you has swept away all my sadness.’

‘Don’t you want to hear what happened?’

‘Another time, perhaps,’ she said, nestling against him. ‘This is all I want at the moment.’ Tears filled her eyes. ‘I was beginning to think that you’d never come back.’

‘Of course I was coming back, Madeleine,’ he said. ‘I had to honour a promise I made to you.’

‘What sort of promise?’

He laughed. ‘Don’t you remember?’

‘I’m too confused to remember anything just now.’

‘Dear me!’ he said, teasingly. ‘I disappear for a couple of months and you forget all about me.’

‘Don’t be silly. I thought about you every single day.’

‘Then you’ve probably already made the decision for me.’

She was baffled. ‘What decision is that?’

‘The small matter of a date for our wedding,’ he said, kissing her again and lifting her up to twirl her in a circle. ‘You’re not leaving this house until it’s fixed. I want to hear those banns being published and those bells ringing out in celebration. I’ve waited far too long for you already.’ He pulled her close and rubbed his nose softly against hers. ‘When will you become my wife?’

By Edward Marston

THE RAILWAY DETECTIVE SERIES

The Railway Detective

The Excursion Train

The Railway Viaduct

The Iron Horse

Murder on the Brighton Express

The Silver Locomotive Mystery

Railway to the Grave

Blood on the Line

THE CAPTAIN RAWSON SERIES

Soldier of Fortune

Drums of War

Fire and Sword

Under Siege

THE RESTORATION SERIES

The King’s Evil

The Amorous Nightingale

The Repentant Rake

The Frost Fair

The Parliament House

The Painted Lady