The Railway Detective

with which his words had been recorded and, in hearing them again, his memory was jogged.

‘There was one more thing,’ he said.

‘Go on.’

‘It may not be important but it struck me as odd at the time.’

‘Odd?’

‘Yes, Inspector. The man who climbed up onto the footplate called Caleb by his name. He knew who was driving that train.’

‘I wonder how,’ said Colbeck, making another entry in his notebook. He flipped it shut. ‘Thank you, Mr Pike. That information is very pertinent. I’m glad that I double-checked your story.’

There was a tap on the door and it opened to admit Hayton, the stationmaster, a stooping man in his forties. His sad expression made Pike leap to his feet in alarm. He grabbed the newcomer by the shoulder.

‘Has something happened to Caleb?’ he demanded.

‘Calm down, Mr Pike,’ soothed Colbeck, rising from his chair.

‘I want to know the truth.’

‘Leave go of me and you shall,’ said the stationmaster, detaching the fireman’s hand. ‘There’s no need to be so anxious, Mr Pike. The news is good. I came to tell you that the patient has rallied slightly. Mr Andrews even took a sip of water.’

Sergeant Victor Leeming had not been idle. He was working in a little room that was used for storage. Having first taken a statement from the guard on the ambushed train, he interviewed the two railway policemen whose task was to protect the money in the safes. Initially, they denied having left the luggage van and insisted that they had not been playing cards in the mail coach. When Leeming told them that the guard had given evidence to the contrary, they blustered, prevaricated then, under close questioning, they caved in. One of the railway policemen, a surly individual with a walrus moustache, even tried to justify their action.

‘Sitting in a luggage van is very boring,’ he said.

‘You were not there to be entertained,’ observed Leeming.

‘We often slip into the mail van on such occasions. Nothing ever happens when we carry money. The train has never been under threat before. Ask yourself this, Sergeant. Who would even think of trying to rob us? It’s impossible to open those two safes.’

‘Not if you have the keys and the combination. What would have made it more difficult for them, of course,’ said Leeming, ‘is that they’d met stout resistance from two railway policemen hired to guard that money.’

‘We didn’t believe that it could ever happen, Sergeant.’

‘That’s no excuse.’

‘It was their fault,’ said the man, searching desperately for a way to redeem himself. ‘We were led astray. The mail guards pleaded with us to join them in their coach. They should carry the blame.’

‘If you wanted to play cards,’ said Leeming, reasonably, ‘you could have done that in the luggage van with your colleague.’

‘It’s not the same with only two players.’

‘Tell that to Inspector McTurk.’

The two policemen quailed. They had already given accounts of the robbery to their superior, carefully omitting any mention of their visit to the mail coach. Thanks to the detective, they would now have to confess that they had lied to McTurk. It was a daunting prospect. In the event, it was Leeming who first informed the Scotsman that he had been misled. When he left the storeroom, he found McTurk lurking outside and told him what had transpired.

‘Hell and damnation!’ exclaimed McTurk. ‘They’ll swing for this.’

‘They pulled the wool over your eyes, Inspector.’

‘I’ll make them regret that they did that.’

‘You owe a debt to Inspector Colbeck,’ said Leeming, enjoying the other’s discomfort. ‘Had he not searched the mail van, this dereliction of duty may not have come to light. It explains why those employed to look after the mail and the money were caught off guard.’

‘I’ll see them crucified,’ vowed McTurk.

‘You need to review your safety procedures.’

‘Don’t presume to tell me my job, Sergeant.’

‘Your men were blatantly at fault.’

‘Then they’ll be punished accordingly,’ said McTurk, nettled by the criticism. ‘We have high standards to maintain. But I’ll thank you not to pass comments on our police force. Might I remind you that we’ve been in existence a lot longer than the Detective Department at Scotland Yard?’

‘Perhaps that’s why complacency has set in.’

‘We are not complacent, Sergeant Leeming!’

‘Patently, some of your men are.’

‘Isolated examples,’ argued the Scotsman, barely able to contain his fury. ‘And whatever their shortcomings, at least they look like policemen. I can’t say that about you and Inspector Colbeck.’

‘We belong to the Plain-Clothes Detail.’

McTurk sniffed. ‘There’s nothing plain about your colleague’s attire. He struts around like a peacock.’

‘The Inspector puts a high premium on smartness.’

‘Then he’d be more at home in fashionable society.’

‘I agree with you there,’ said Colbeck, coming into the room in time to hear McTurk’s comment. ‘Fashionable society is often the place where serious crimes are hatched. Were we to wear police uniform, we would disclose our identity at once and that would be fatal. Being able to move invisibly in society gives us an enormous advantage. It’s one of the principles on which we operate.’

‘It’s not one that appeals to me,’ said McTurk, tapping his chest. ‘I’m proud to wear a uniform. It shows who I am and what I stand for.’

‘But it also warns any criminals that you represent danger.’

‘And what do you represent, Inspector Colbeck?’

‘The veiled sarcasm in your voice suggests that you’ve already supplied your own answer to that question,’ said Colbeck, tolerantly, ‘so I’ll not confuse you by giving you my reply. I simply came to thank you for your help and to tell you that we’ll be leaving for London soon.’ He could not resist a smile. ‘On what, I believe, you call an up train.’

‘What about the others?’

‘They’re free to leave, Inspector — with the exception of the patient, that is. The stationmaster has very kindly offered a bed in his house to Mr Andrews, who seems to have made a slight improvement.’

‘That’s cheering news,’ said Leeming.

‘Yes,’ added McTurk. ‘The station can get back to normal.’

‘Normality will not be completely restored,’ said Colbeck, ‘until this crime has been solved and the villains are securely behind bars. Sergeant Leeming and I have done all that we can here. We move on to the next stage of the investigation.’

‘May one ask where that might be?’

‘Of course, Inspector. We’re going to pay a visit to the Post Office.’ He hovered in the doorway. ‘Now, please excuse me while I speak to Fireman Pike. He insists on staying with the driver even though there’s nothing that he can do.’ He waved to McTurk. ‘Goodbye.’

‘And good riddance!’ muttered the other as Colbeck went out. He turned on Leeming. ‘A Detective-Inspector, is he? And how did he get that title?’

‘Strictly on merit,’ said the other.

‘The merit of knowing the right people?’

‘Not at all. He achieved his promotion by dint of hard work and exceptional talent. Inspector Colbeck is highly educated.’

‘I knew that there was something wrong with him.’

‘Don’t you believe in education, Inspector McTurk?’

‘Only in small doses,’ retorted the other. ‘Otherwise, it can get in your way. Book-learning is useless in this