Murder on the Brighton Express (8 page)

‘I can vouch for that,’ said Andrews, seizing his cue. ‘I got all the details from John Heddle. I know you spoke to him,
Inspector, but you questioned him as a detective. I talked to him as another railwayman. I wanted to know the speed of the train immediately before the crash, the way the engine was performing and how well Frank was driving it.’

‘Did he remember the man with the telescope?’

‘He remembered more than that. He and Frank were on stopping trains both times so they were going slower than the express. The first time they saw the man,’ recalled Andrews, ‘they didn’t pay much attention. When they saw him a second time, it was different.

‘Why was that?’ asked Colbeck.

‘The man with the telescope wasn’t alone, Inspector.’

‘Is he sure about that?’

‘Heddle was a cheeky lad when he worked for the LNWR as a cleaner but he had a sharp eye. He reckons that the man with the telescope was well-dressed while the other man wore rough clothing.’

‘Does Heddle remember exactly where this was?’

‘More or less,’ said Andrews, relishing the chance to pass on what he believed was significant evidence. ‘He claims it was close to the place where the express came off the track on Friday. The man with the telescope was pointing at the line as if he was giving orders to the other man. Is that any help to you, Inspector?’

‘It is, indeed,’ said Colbeck. ‘Thank you.’

‘There you are – I’ve told you before. When it comes to a crime on the railways, the person to turn to is Caleb Andrews. I’ll help all I can and there’s only one thing I ask in return.’

‘What’s that, Mr Andrews?’

‘When you catch the men who murdered Frank Pike,’ said the other, letting his fury show, ‘hand the pair of them over
to me!’

Facing the superintendent on his own when he had little progress to report was something that Victor Leeming chose to evade, preferring to have Robert Colbeck at his side during the ordeal. Instead of going straight to Scotland Yard that evening, therefore, he lurked in the Lamb and Flag, the public house nearby, and enjoyed a pint of beer while standing at the window. He had almost finished his drink when he saw Colbeck arrive by cab. Downing the last mouthful in one gulp, he put the tankard aside and rushed out. Colbeck saw him coming and waited at the door.

‘Good evening, Victor,’ he said, understanding very well where the sergeant had been. ‘I’m glad that we have a chance to compare notes before we see Mr Tallis. Did you have any luck?’

‘None at all,’ replied Leeming. ‘Except that I managed to dodge the urchins in Seven Dials who thought it would be a joke to knock off my top hat.’

‘Let’s go inside.’

In the privacy of Colbeck’s office, they exchanged details of how each had spent the day. Leeming was envious. Colbeck appeared to have gathered useful evidence whereas
the sergeant’s efforts had been more or less futile. Apart from being hounded by ragamuffins in the rookeries, he had had to endure an indecent proposal from the daunting Josie Murlow.

‘I went to all four of Chiffney’s favourite taverns,’ he said, morosely, ‘but there was no sign of him.’

‘Was he well-known to the landlords?’

‘Oh, yes – they all had Dick Chiffney stories to tell. Most were about fights he’d started or times when he drank himself into oblivion and had to be carried home. He and Josie Murlow have a reputation.’

‘She sounds like a potent lady,’ said Colbeck.

‘Overwhelming is the word I’d use, sir.’

Having discussed their respective reports, they went down the corridor to the superintendent’s office. From the other side of the door, they heard the raised voice of Edward Tallis as he berated one of his officers for failure to solve a crime. A minute later, the man came out, shooting a baleful glance at Colbeck and Leeming as he did so. Tallis, apparently, was even more hot-tempered than usual. After tapping on the door, Colbeck led the way in.

‘Is this a convenient time to speak, sir?’ he enquired, politely.

‘I expected you hours ago,’ growled Tallis.

‘Victor and I were unavoidably delayed.’

‘Well, I hope you have more to show for your efforts than Sergeant Nelson. I’ve just threatened him with demotion if he doesn’t improve markedly.’ He pointed to the chairs and they sat down. ‘I hope I don’t have to issue the same threat to you.’ Leeming squirmed but Colbeck responded with a confident smile. ‘Let’s hear from you first, Inspector.’

Colbeck was succinct. He talked about his visit to Brighton, recounting his conversations with Giles Thornhill, Ezra Follis and some of the survivors at the hospital. He omitted any reference to the Royal Pavilion. Without divulging the name of Caleb Andrews, he said that he had information from Fireman Heddle that two people had been seen watching trains go by near the spot where the crash later occurred. Colbeck felt that the use of the telescope was significant.

‘If they were simply looking at trains,’ he argued, ‘they did not need it at all. The telescope was used to check up and down the line to make sure that there would be no witnesses if anyone levered part of the rail away. They chose that specific place with care. There are no farmhouses or cottages nearby.’

Throughout the report, Tallis made no comment. He sat there in silence, smouldering quietly like a cigar in an ashtray. When Colbeck had finished, the superintendent blazed into life.

‘Why did you waste time talking to the Rector of St Dunstan’s?’ he said, acidly. ‘The fellow is no help to us at all.’

‘I believe that he was, sir,’ argued Colbeck. ‘Mr Follis is an excellent judge of character. More to the point, he survived the train crash and was able to describe exactly how the collision felt.’

‘That has no relevance to the pursuit of the malefactor.’

‘Malefactors,’ corrected Leeming. ‘There were two of them, sir.’

‘Be quiet, man!’

‘According to Fireman Heddle…’

‘Don’t you recognise an order when you hear one?’
demanded Tallis, interrupting him. ‘The sight of two men looking at trains on the Brighton line is not, in my view, conclusive evidence that they are anything to do with the disaster. For all we know, they may even have been railway employees, surveying the line.’

‘With respect, sir,’ said Colbeck, ‘John Heddle has seen enough surveyors in his time to be able to identify one. He thought their presence was odd. Driver Pike felt the same because he told his wife that someone had been watching the trains.’

‘Come to the crux of your evidence, Inspector. Are you still firmly of the belief that the accident was caused to kill a particular individual on board?’

‘I am, superintendent.’

‘Then the choice would seem to be between Horace Bardwell and Giles Thornhill. Which one would you select?’

‘Mr Bardwell.’

‘Yet it’s Mr Thornhill who has been receiving death threats.’

‘They could relate to his political activities,’ said Colbeck. ‘He’s supported many unpopular causes in Parliament and is leading the fight for a Sunday Trading Bill. It would mean the closure of all shops and public houses on the Sabbath.’

‘That would be cruel!’ protested Leeming.

‘It’s eminently sensible and long overdue,’ said Tallis.

‘But if people work hard for six days a week, sir, surely they’re entitled to the pleasure of a drink on Sunday.’

‘Strong drink leads to drunkenness and that, in turn, leads to crime. It would greatly relieve the pressure on our police if there was one day when they did not have to deal with violent affrays in public houses or people in the streets being
drunk and disorderly. But there’s an even stronger reason why the Sunday Trading Bill should be passed,’ continued Tallis, sounding a reverential note. ‘It shows respect for the Lord’s Day and for people’s spiritual needs.’

‘I still think it will cause a great deal trouble if it’s ever put forward,’ said Leeming. ‘It might even lead to a riot.’

‘The point is,’ observed Colbeck, rescuing the sergeant from Tallis’s stony glare, ‘that the Bill is highly controversial. It will stir up a lot of opposition, as other legislation sponsored by Mr Thornhill has done. I fancy that he’s being menaced by a political enemy. Mr Bardwell, on the other hand, embodies the LB&SCR in several ways. That’s a salient point in my opinion. As far as I know, Mr Thornhill has no connection with the railway company.’

‘Then you are not as well-informed as you should be,’ said Tallis, savouring the opportunity to embarrass Colbeck for once. ‘While you and the sergeant went gallivanting off today, I did not sit idly here. I took it upon myself to call on the London office of the LB&SCR and I made an interesting discovery.’

‘What was that, sir?’ asked Colbeck.

‘Searching through the list of their major shareholders, I came across the name of Giles Thornhill. He has a large financial stake in the company. You should have found that out, Inspector.’

‘I agree, sir, and I’m grateful that you did so on my behalf.’

‘It tips the balance of probability in favour of Mr Thornhill. If, that is,’ added Tallis with beetle-browed scepticism, ‘your theory about the crime is correct.’

‘Do you have an alternative theory, Superintendent?’

‘No, but Captain Ridgeon certainly does. He called here today.’

‘I daresay that he wanted to complain about me,’ said Colbeck.

‘You upset him, Inspector, and I fear that I upset him even more by supporting you to the hilt.’ He leant forward across his desk. ‘I hope you won’t make me regret that support.’

‘We won’t, sir. Victor and I owe you our thanks.’

‘Yes, sir,’ agreed Leeming, picking up his cue. ‘We need you to back us. Captain Ridgeon didn’t like what we were doing.’

‘I’m not sure that
I
do,’ said Tallis, twitching his moustache. ‘You may have identified the intended target of the crash but are no nearer finding those who seem to have engineered it.’ His gaze fell on Leeming. ‘What new information have
you
garnered today, Sergeant?’

Leeming cleared his throat before launching into his report. It was short, apologetic and delivered with breathless speed. Tallis reacted with a mixture of sarcasm and outrage.

‘What have you been
doing
all day?’ he asked. ‘Twelve hours of detective work have yielded precisely nothing. If the Sunday Trading Bill had become law this year, at least you’d have been spared the chore of running pointlessly from one public house to another.’

‘I think you’re being unfair on Victor,’ said Colbeck. ‘Because he was a plate-layer, Dick Chiffney has to be a major suspect.’

‘Then
find
the man, Inspector.’

‘We will, sir.’

‘And track down his accomplice – if such a person exists.’

‘I’m certain that he does,’ said Colbeck. ‘From everything
that Victor learnt about Chiffney, it seems clear that he’d never be capable of planning and carrying out the work on his own. Someone far more calculating has been giving the orders.’

‘It could be Matthew Shanklin,’ suggested Leeming.

‘I don’t want to know who it
could
be,’ said Tallis, scornfully. ‘Tell me who it actually
is
and produce the evidence to prove it.’

‘We’ll start by locating Dick Chiffney,’ decided Colbeck.

‘That won’t be easy, Inspector,’ warned Leeming. ‘If the woman he lives with can’t find him, what chance have we got?’

‘We’ll catch him, Victor.’

‘Then we need to do so before Josie Murlow gets hold of him, sir, or there’ll be nothing left of Chiffney to question.’

Josie Murlow was dozing in a chair when she heard the noise. It brought her awake instantly. When a second stone hit the window of the living room, she struggled up, ready for combat, flinging open the front door and peering into the half-dark. Through the gloom, she could pick out a familiar shape.

‘Is that you, Dick Chiffney?’ she challenged. ‘Don’t think you can come back here with your snivelling excuses.’

‘I’ve brought no excuses, my love,’ said Chiffney, taking a few tentative steps forward. ‘But I’ve brought a flagon of gin.’

Her manner softened. ‘Where have you been, you devil?’

‘I’ll explain that later, Josie.’

‘You left me high and dry.’

‘I was sworn to secrecy, my love. I was working for a
gentleman and he paid me well.’ He came closer, allowing her to see that he was wearing a new suit. ‘Do you like the look of this?’

‘How could you afford that?’

‘I can afford a lot more, Josie, and you’ll share in my good luck.’ He gave a sly smile. ‘If you want to, that is.’

Chiffney was only yards away now. He was a hulking man with broad shoulders and massive fists. A broken nose and a squint turned an ugly, misshapen face into a grotesque one. He had even fewer teeth than she did. Josie took time to make her decision, remembering the lonely nights without him and aching to take revenge. At the same time, she was a practical woman. A man with money in his pocket was always welcome and – whatever his reasons for leaving – Chiffney had come back to her at last. She spat on the ground before speaking.

‘What kind of gin is it?’ she asked.

‘The very best, my love,’ he said.

‘And is it paid for?’

‘Everything is paid for, including the present I brought you.’

She was tempted. ‘You’ve got a present for me?’

‘I couldn’t come back empty-handed now, could I?’ he said with a leer. ‘As soon as I saw it in the shop, I thought of you.’

‘What is it?’

‘Invite me in and I’ll show you.’

She folded her arms. ‘I swore that you’d never cross this threshold again.’ Chiffney lowered his head in disappointment then turned to walk away. ‘But since you’re here,’ she added, quickly, ‘you may as well come in.’

Chiffney rallied, turned around and rushed to embrace her.
As they went into the house, Chiffney kicked the door shut behind them then muffled the questions she hurled at him with passionate kisses. When he broke away from her, he felt in a pocket and whisked out a string of garnets on a gold chain. The necklace sparkled in the light from the candles. Josie was thrilled with the gift. Nobody had ever bought her anything so expensive before. He helped her to put it on.

‘It’s wonderful, Dick,’ she cried, looking in a mirror.

‘So are you, my love.’

‘Let’s get some glasses,’ he said, going into the kitchen.

Josie followed him. ‘Who needs glasses?’ she said, snatching the flagon from him and uncorking it to take a long swig. ‘Did you miss me, Dick Chiffney?’

‘Every second I was away.’

‘Show me how much.’

Chiffney cackled with joy. After taking a swig of gin himself, he put the flagon aside, tore off his coat and reached for her. Big as she was, he lifted Josie up in his arms and carried her upstairs to the bedroom. Lowering her onto the bed, he flung himself on top of her and they kissed away their differences. Josie soon forgot about his apparent desertion of her and his inability to forewarn her of his movements. All that mattered now was that Chiffney had lots of money and an overwhelming desire for her. Josie laughed joyously. Her man was back.

Later on, as they had a supper of cheese and gin, Chiffney gave her a partial explanation of where he had been, unable to tell her the whole story or to name the man who had employed him.

‘What I can tell is this, my love,’ he confided, swallowing a hunk of cheese. ‘There could be more money to come.’

‘Could there?’

‘I was paid for one job but there’s another to be done now.’

‘It’s against the law, though, isn’t it?’ she guessed.

Chiffney sat back in his chair. ‘Who cares?’ he said airily. ‘One day’s work will bring in a lot more money and nobody will be any the wiser. It’s against the law but it’s safe.’

‘No, it isn’t,’ she cautioned, remembering her visitor earlier that day. ‘You’d better take care, Dick.’

‘Why do you say that?’