‘Am I to go to Cambridge on my own, sir?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then how do I find the hotel where Lord Hendry stayed?’
‘By using your intelligence,’ said Colbeck. ‘Cambridge is a charming city but it won’t have many hotels where a member of the aristocracy would deign to stay. Eliminate them one by one.’
‘What about you, Inspector?’
‘Oh, have no fear. I’ll be on my travels as well – if I can persuade the superintendent to let me go there, that is.’
‘Go where?’
‘Ireland.’
CHAPTER FOUR
Superintendent Edward Tallis was pushed to the verge of apoplexy.
‘Ireland?’ he said. ‘You want to go to
‘With your permission, sir,’ said Robert Colbeck.
‘Denied.’
‘I haven’t given you my reasons yet.’
‘Save your breath, Inspector.’
‘I’m not making this request lightly, sir.’
‘And I’m not turning it down lightly,’ said Tallis, glaring at him. ‘Here you are, in the middle of a murder investigation, and you come up with some hare-brained scheme about crossing the Irish Sea.’
‘That’s where the answer may lie, Superintendent.’
‘Poppycock! When a severed head is found in Crewe and when the hatbox in which it was being transported was bought in London by someone who lives near Reigate, then I’d say we were dealing with an exclusively English murder.’
‘That’s one way of looking at it,’ said Colbeck.
‘It’s the
Arms folded, Tallis sat back heavily in his chair. They were in his office at Scotland Yard and he was not in an accommodating mood. If Colbeck had suggested sailing to America, he could not have met with a more resounding rebuff. It was time to delve into the murky reservoir of their past disagreements.
‘Do you happen to recall a murder that took place aboard a train in Twyford a couple of years ago?’ asked Colbeck.
‘Vividly.’
‘Then you may also recall how obstructive you were when I argued that the only way to solve a crime that took place in Berkshire was to travel to Ashford in Kent.’
‘I was not obstructive,’ said Tallis indignantly. ‘I was simply being cautious. When further evidence emerged, I saw the virtue of sending you to Kent.’
‘Where two separate murders were successfully solved.’
‘We can both take credit from that, Inspector.’
‘Let’s move on to the Sankey Viaduct, if we may,’ said Colbeck smoothly. ‘When a man was hurled over the viaduct from a moving train, you thought I was mad to insist that my investigations should begin in France.’
‘It seemed a lunatic course of action at the time.’
‘What was the result, sir?’
‘The killer was eventually tracked down and caught.’
‘You did everything in your power to stop me from sailing to France,’ said Colbeck. ‘The only way I finally wrung a concession out of you was by threatening to resign from the Detective Department.’
Tallis’s face darkened. ‘Where is all this leading?’
‘To the present situation – it’s comparable to the two cases I’ve just mentioned. When you trust my judgement, I secure arrests. When you block my initiatives, guilty men go free.’
‘The cases bear no resemblance to each other,’ Tallis said, waving a hand. ‘The murder victim at the Sankey Viaduct was a Parisian. There was a reasonable argument for moving the inquiry to France. As for the other victim, he was so closely linked to an execution at Maidstone Prison that I encouraged you to go to Kent.’
Colbeck’s memories were very different. In both instances, Tallis had hampered him at every stage of the investigation and only the inspector’s single-mindedness had enabled him to solve the respective crimes. The superintendent had deliberately rewritten history.
‘We have no proof whatsoever,’ Tallis continued, ‘that the murder victim discovered at Crewe has any discernible link with Ireland. You might just as well charge off to the Hebrides.’
‘I’d not find many racehorses there, sir.’
‘What?’
‘This crime is somehow connected to the Turf,’ said Colbeck with obvious conviction. ‘I feel it in my bones, Superintendent.’
‘Sciatica.’
‘It’s no accident that the hatbox in question was one purchased by Lord Hendry. He owns the favourite for the Derby.’
‘That information is irrelevant. I’m not a betting man.’
‘It might be advantageous for you to take an interest in this year’s race, sir. Three horses stand out from the listed starters – Odysseus, Merry Legs and – the one that fascinates me – Limerick Lad, an Irish horse.’
‘I abhor gambling in all its forms,’ said Tallis coldly, ‘and that’s not the only thing I have against the Derby. It’s a magnet for every criminal within a hundred miles. Year after year, pickpockets, prostitutes, fraudsters, ruffians and villains of every kind flock to Epsom Downs in search of rich pickings. Only a veritable army of policemen could keep them under control and we do not, alas, have such an army at our disposal. Don’t mention the Derby to me, Inspector,’ he went on, curling his lip. ‘If it was left to me, I’d cancel the whole disgraceful event.’
‘You’d cancel most things that people enjoy, sir.’
‘Large crowds mean constant crime.’
‘Abide by that argument and you’d stop every circus, fair and public celebration in London – not to mention royal processions.’
‘You’re being facetious.’
‘I’m questioning your prejudice against racing.’
‘I have no prejudice – I just oppose it wholeheartedly.’
‘Then I beg you to assign this case to someone else,’ said Colbeck abruptly. ‘Find someone who doesn’t have wild impulses like mine. Someone who believes that the crime has nothing whatsoever to do with the forthcoming Derby and who would therefore never imagine in a million years that a severed head found in Cheshire might be destined for Brian Dowd in Ireland.’
‘Who?’
‘Brian Dowd is the owner of Limerick Lad, sir. Unlike the vast majority of owners – Lord Hendry among them – he is also the horse’s trainer. However,’ he went on, getting to his feet, ‘none of this is germane to the investigation. The person who replaces me will conduct his enquiries exclusively on English soil.’
Edward Tallis glowered at him. Resisting the temptation to reach for a cigar, he weighed up the implications of what Colbeck had said. To replace the inspector would be as rash as it was foolish. Nobody commanded the respect of the London and North West Railway in the way that Colbeck did. He was revered and his knowledge of railway lore was unmatched. But that did not make him infallible. Colbeck had made mistakes in the past and Tallis was convinced that he was making the biggest of all now. He flung out a challenge.
‘Give me one good reason why I should send you to Ireland.’
‘Look at my copy of
‘Why?’
‘You’d see the choice of trains confronting the person who travelled with that stolen hatbox. One destination would catch your eye, sir – Holyhead. Fifteen minutes after leaving the train at Crewe, the man could have caught another to North Wales.’
