The Railway Detective

Rose will tell you how often Frank has come home with burns on his hand from the firebox or a mark on his face where some flying cinders have hit him. When she heard about the train robbery, she was terrified.’

‘Be fair, Miss Andrews. It was a unique event.’

‘That made no difference to Rose.’

Colbeck began to fish. ‘Coming back to what you were saying about a railway family,’ he said, casually. ‘Is it because you were brought up in one that you have no desire to marry a railwayman?’

‘I’ve no desire to marry anyone at present,’ she replied.

‘Yet you have a suitor.’

‘An unwanted suitor.’

‘Because he works on the railway?’

‘No, Inspector,’ she said with a shrug. ‘Because he is not the right husband for me. Gideon Little is a pleasant enough young man and I have always liked him, but that is the extent of my interest in him.’

‘You do not have to account to me for your feelings.’

‘I wanted you to appreciate the true position, Inspector.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Just as I now appreciate your situation.’

‘Is it so transparent, Miss Andrews?’

‘I think so,’ she said, looking him full in the eye. ‘You are married to your work, Inspector. It occupies you completely, does it not? Nothing else in your life matters.’

‘You may be wrong about that,’ said Colbeck with a slow smile. ‘Though I suspect that it may take time to convince you of it.’ The clatter of hooves made him look up. ‘Ah, here’s a cab at last!’ he noted. ‘Shall I stop it or do you reserve the right to hail it yourself?’

‘I accept your kind offer, Inspector. Thank you.’

Colbeck raised an arm and the cab drew up alongside them. He had the momentary pleasure of holding her hand to help her into the cab. There was an exchange of farewells. Madeleine gave an address to the driver and he flicked his reins. The horse trotted off up Whitehall. Colbeck had a sudden desire to sit beside her in the cab and continue their conversation indefinitely but other priorities called. Forcing himself to forget Madeleine Andrews, he went swiftly back to his office.

The dark-eyed young man in the ill-fitting brown suit emerged from the doorway where he had been lurking. Gideon Little set off with long strides in pursuit of the cab.

CHAPTER NINE

Darkness had fallen by the time that news of the explosion in the Kilsby Tunnel finally reached Scotland Yard. Superintendent Tallis was not entirely convinced that it was the work of the same people who had robbed the mail train but Inspector Colbeck had no doubts whatsoever on the subject. He decided to visit the scene of the crime in daylight. Accordingly, early next morning, he and Victor Leeming caught a train that would take them there with a minimum number of stops on the way. Knowing that his companion was a reluctant rail traveller, Colbeck tried to divert him with some facts about their destination.

‘What do you know about the tunnel, Victor?’ he asked.

‘Nothing — beyond the fact that it goes under ground.’

‘It’s a work of art. On my visit to the Midlands, I went through it twice and was struck by the sheer size of it. The Kilsby Tunnel is cavernous. It’s like being in a subterranean kingdom.’

‘I’ll take your word for it, Inspector.’

‘When he undertook the project, Mr Stephenson thought it would be relatively straightforward because they would be cutting their way through a mixture of clay and sand. Unhappily,’ said Colbeck, ‘much of it turned out to be quicksand so the whole area had first to be drained. It was slow and laborious work.’

‘Like being a detective,’ noted the other, lugubriously.

Colbeck laughed. ‘Only in the sense that we, too, come up against unforeseen hazards,’ he said. ‘But our job is far less dangerous than that of the miners who sunk those enormous ventilation shafts or the navvies who dug out all that soil. How many bricks would you say were needed to line the tunnel?’

‘Hundreds of thousands, probably,’ guessed Leeming, unable to share the Inspector’s enthusiasm for the topic. ‘I hope that you are not asking me to count them when we get there.’

‘It would take you a lifetime, Victor.’

‘Why, sir?’

‘Because millions of bricks were used,’ said Colbeck. ‘A steam clay mill and kilns were built on site by Mr Stephenson so that he had a constant supply of 30,000 bricks per day. Imagine that, if you will.’ Leeming stifled a yawn. ‘The original estimate — would you believe — was for a total of 20 million bricks, some of them made from the clay that was excavated from the tunnel itself.’

‘How do you know all this, Inspector?’

‘I took the trouble to do some research on the subject.’

‘In that library of yours, you mean?’

‘Yes, Victor.’

‘I wouldn’t know where to look.’

‘Start with a history of the London and Birmingham Railway,’ said Colbeck. ‘That was the name of the company that operated this line when the tunnel was built. It was only amalgamated into the London and North Western Railway Company five years ago.’

‘Now that’s something I did know,’ said Leeming. ‘Every person I spoke to at the company made a point of telling me.’ He gave Colbeck a meaningful glance. ‘But not one of them mentioned how many bricks there were in the Kilsby Tunnel.’

‘Point taken,’ said Colbeck, smiling. ‘You are not in the mood for a lecture about the railway. Given the choice, I suspect, you would rather be making this journey on horseback.’

‘Or in the comfort of a stage coach, sir.’

‘Either way, you would have been much slower.’

‘Would I?’

‘By the time you got to Northamptonshire, I would have been back at my desk in London. Railways are helping to defeat time.’

When the train passed through Leighton Buzzard Station, they were pleased to see that the wrecked locomotive near the Linslade Tunnel had been removed, leaving deep indentations in the grass where it had come to rest. Though the robbery had been a serious crime with murderous consequences, Colbeck was very conscious of the fact that it had introduced him to Madeleine Andrews. He regarded that as an incidental bonus. His mind was filled with pleasant thoughts of her as they crossed the county border.

Stations flashed pass them at regular intervals then — to Leeming’s obvious relief — the train began to slow down. The detectives alighted at Crick to be greeted by a familiar sight. The hulking figure of Inspector Rory McTurk came along the station platform to give them a blunt reception.

‘What are you doing here, Inspector Colbeck?’ he asked.

‘We wanted the pleasure of renewing your acquaintance,’ replied Colbeck, touching the brim of his hat with courtesy. ‘I’m sure that you remember Sergeant Leeming.’

‘I do,’ grunted the Scotsman.

‘Good morning, Inspector,’ said Leeming.

‘Neither of you is needed here. This is railway business.’

‘Not when it’s related to the train robbery,’ asserted Colbeck.

‘What makes you think that?’

‘I’ll tell you when we have examined the scene.’ The locomotive was starting up again. ‘I see that the line has been reopened.’

‘In both directions,’ said McTurk. ‘A team of men worked through the night to clear the obstruction. Everything is as it should be now.’

‘Were there no policemen on duty at the tunnel?’

‘Two of them, Inspector. They were both overpowered.’

‘What game of cards were they playing this time?’ asked Leeming.