The Iron Horse

‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ said Tallis irritably. ‘What kept you?’

‘Nothing, sir…that is…I mean…well, you see…’

‘Spare me your excuses, sergeant. I know from past experience that they’ll be embarrassingly weak. What do you have to report?’

‘I went to Cambridge yesterday,’ said Leeming.

‘That much I know. Tell me something I don’t know.’

‘It’s a very pleasant place, Superintendent.’

‘I don’t want a guided tour of the town,’ snapped Tallis. ‘I want to hear what evidence you managed to gather.’

‘Ah, yes.’

‘Take a seat while you give it.’

Leeming sat down. ‘Thank you, sir.’

Consulting his notebook throughout, he gave a halting account of his visit to the Angel Hotel and explained that the hatbox had not been stolen from there. When Leeming passed on a description of the woman who had stayed in Cambridge with Lord Hendry, the superintendent’s eyebrows went up and down like a pair of dancing caterpillars. A note of moral outrage came into his voice.

‘That does not sound like his lawful wife.’

‘She was so much younger than him, sir,’ said Leeming. ‘The inspector was certain that the real Lady Hendry had not been at that hotel. He sensed it from the start.’

‘Let’s forget Inspector Colbeck for a moment, shall we?’ said Tallis with a sniff. ‘All that interests me at this juncture is what you found out about that hatbox.’

‘It must have been stolen elsewhere.’

‘Then why did Lord Hendry lie about it?’

‘I intend to ask him that very question, sir.’

‘No, no – don’t do that. We don’t want Lord Hendry to know that we’ve found him out. That will only throw him on the defensive. Also, of course,’ he went on, stroking his moustache, ‘the fact that he and a certain person spent the night together may have nothing whatsoever to do with the crime we are investigating.’

‘Inspector Colbeck felt that it did.’

‘I told you to keep him out of this.’

‘But he’s usually right about such things, sir.’

‘We have to tread very carefully,’ insisted Tallis, thinking it through. ‘Lord Hendry has misled two officers of the law and I deprecate that but it is not, at this stage, an offence that renders him liable to arrest. It may well be that this so-called “Lady Hendry” told him that the hatbox was stolen from that hotel. What she said to him was thus passed on to you in good faith. Conceivably, he may be the victim of her deception.’

‘His wife is the real victim here,’ noted Leeming.

Tallis nodded. ‘One of the many perils of marriage.’

‘It has its compensations, sir.’

‘How can you compensate for adultery?’

‘That’s not what I meant, Superintendent. Because one man goes astray, it doesn’t mean that marriage itself is at fault. There’s nothing so wonderful as being joined together in holy matrimony. Family life is a joy to me.’

‘We are not talking about you, Leeming.’

‘You seemed to be criticising the whole idea of marriage.’

‘I was,’ said Tallis vehemently, ‘and I’ll continue to do so. Lord Hendry’s case is only one of thousands. All over London, husbands and wives readily forget the vows they took so solemnly at the altar. If adultery were made the crime that it should be, every gaol in the country would be bursting at the seams.’

‘For every bad marriage, there are dozens of good ones.’

‘How do you know?’

‘It stands to reason, sir.’

‘Then why do we have to deal with so much domestic strife? Policemen in some parts of the city seem to spend half their time stopping married couples from trying to kill each other. Wives have been bludgeoned to death. Husbands have been poisoned. Unwanted children have had their throats cut.’

‘We only get to see the worst cases, superintendent.’

‘They show the defects of the institution of marriage.’

Victor Leeming bit back what he was going to say. Arguing with the superintendent was never advisable. He decided that it was better to weather the storm of Tallis’s vituperation in silence. The tirade against holy matrimony went on for a few minutes then came to an abrupt stop.

‘Where were we?’ demanded Tallis.

‘You thought Lord Hendry might be the victim of deception, sir.’

‘It’s a possibility we have to consider.’

‘What we need to find out is who that other Lady Hendry was.’

‘I doubt very much if he would volunteer the information.’

‘Since the hatbox belonged to her,’ said Leeming, ‘it may even be that she was a party to the conspiracy to murder. She only pretended that the item was stolen.’

‘That would implicate Lord Hendry as well.’

‘Not necessarily, sir.’

‘You met him – what manner of man was he?’

‘Exactly what you’d expect of a lord, sir,’ recalled Leeming, pulling at an ear lobe. ‘He was dignified, well spoken and a bit too haughty for my liking. He seemed honest enough to me until Inspector Colbeck pointed out something I’d missed. Lord Hendry was a proper gentleman.’ He became confidential. ‘And the best thing about the visit was that he told us who’d win the Derby. I know where to put my money now.’

Tallis scowled. ‘You intend to place a bet, Sergeant?’

‘Just a small amount, sir.’

‘I don’t care if it’s only a brass farthing. Gambling is sinful. Think what a bad example you’re setting.’

‘Everyone bets on the Derby.’

‘I don’t and nor should you.’

‘Why not, Superintendent?’

‘Because it only encourages crime,’ said Tallis. ‘Bookmakers are, by definition, thoroughgoing villains. They rig the betting so that they can never lose and they exploit gullible fools like you. They’re a despicable breed who should be hung in chains and left to rot.’

Leeming was roused. ‘Betting is harmless fun, sir.’

‘It’s a foul disease.’

‘People are entitled to dream.’

‘Not if their dreams have a selfish foundation. That’s what gambling is about, sergeant – investing little money in the hope of making a large amount. Work!’ declared the superintendent, pounding his desk with a fist. ‘That’s the only decent way to acquire money.’

‘But when people have worked,’ said Leeming, stung by the blanket condemnation of gambling, ‘they’re entitled to spend it how they wish. Betting on the Derby is a tradition.’

‘A very bad tradition.’

‘Wanting to win is a normal human urge, sir.’

‘But common sense tells you that the overwhelming majority of people will lose. All that gambling does is to fill up debtors’ prisons. In the case of the Derby, it’s part of the whole ugly panoply of crime.’

‘What’s criminal about putting a few shillings on a horse?’

‘You’re helping to fund a national scandal,’ said Tallis, raising his voice and gesticulating as he warmed to his theme. ‘What are the constituent elements of the Derby? I’ll tell you, Sergeant. Violence, theft, deceit, drunkenness, gluttony, gambling and sexual licence – all played out against a background of loud music, bawling crowds and a loss of inhibition that would make any true Christian weep.’

‘I like to think I’m a true Christian,’ said Leeming meekly.

‘Then why do you condone this annual saturnalia?’