‘How do we know he’s coming to the station?’
‘Josie Murlow is waiting for him. I’ll wager that’s why she’s in Brighton today.’ He glanced around. ‘Let’s separate so that he has to pass between us.’
‘Yes, Inspector,’ said Leeming, pleased at the prospect of action.
‘Don’t move until I give the signal. With luck, he might even make contact with his paymaster. We can arrest both of them.’
‘Mr Tallis may yet have good news from Brighton.’
‘Take up your position, Victor, and be very careful.’
‘Why is that?’
‘Chiffney is armed.’
They parted company and moved to either side of the entrance. Both had their backs to Josie so there was no danger of their being recognised. People were streaming into the station and going to their respective platforms. None of them realised what was about to happen. The detectives did not have long to wait. As more people converged on the terminus, Colbeck and Leeming both noticed the strapping man with a hunted look. The pronounced squint and the hideous face left them in no doubt. It was Dick Chiffney.
They let him walk past them into the station. He was tense and agitated, looking around with great anxiety as if expecting to see someone. What the detectives could not understand was why he ignored Josie Murlow and why she made no attempt to speak to him. Chiffney’s interest was in someone else but that person was nowhere to be seen. He became desperate, breaking into a trot as he searched every corner of the station, bumping into people in his haste. As he looped back towards the entrance, Colbeck and Leeming could see the sweat glistening on his face.
Josie Murlow was on her feet now, watching him as intently as the detectives yet hesitating to approach him. Seeing the anguished state he was in, she held back. When she heard another train clanking towards the station, she looked over her shoulder. Chiffney also registered it, torn between wanting to find someone and needing to escape from Brighton. Colbeck had waited long enough. Whoever Chiffney had expected was obviously not there. It was time to strike.
Colbeck gave the signal and both detectives started to move towards Chiffney. Their determination was so evident and their walk so purposeful that they gave themselves away. An innate sense of survival made Chiffney look up at them. He was a killer on the run and he knew he must not be taken. As they got within ten yards, he pulled out the pistol and brandished it.
‘Keep back,’ he said, ‘or I’ll shoot.’
‘You can’t kill both of us with one bullet,’ said Colbeck, calmly. ‘In any case, you can’t shoot straight, Mr Chiffney. You only managed to hit the Reverend Follis in the shoulder.’
Chiffney was in a panic. They not only knew his name, they were aware of his crime. Worst of all, he had not killed his target. That explained why the man who had retained him was not there. He would never pay Chiffney for a bungled murder.
Colbeck extended a palm. ‘Hand the gun over, sir,’ he said.
‘If you come any closer,’ warned Chiffney, ‘I’ll kill you.’
‘I doubt very much if you’ve had time to reload in the rush to get here. Now, are you going to hand it over or shall we take it from you?’
Chiffney looked helplessly down at the weapon, confirming that it was not loaded. When he saw Leeming edging forward, he flung the pistol at him and caught him in the chest. The sergeant reeled back in pain. Colbeck stayed long enough to make sure that Leeming was not seriously injured. He then looked up to see Chiffney running away. Discarding his top hat, Colbeck gave chase. He was not simply after a man who had shot Ezra Follis. He was pursuing a callous villain who had deliberately caused a train crash that led to many deaths. It put extra speed into Colbeck’s legs.
The crowd parted as the two men hurtled across the station. Realising that he might soon be caught, and wearied from his earlier run through the Lanes, Chiffney tried to elude Colbeck by jumping down on to the track. He was oblivious to the fact that the oncoming train was now steaming towards the platform. Josie Murlow saw the danger only too clearly. Throwing back her veil, she yelled at the top of her voice.
‘Look out, Dick – the train is coming!’
Intended to save his life, the warning actually condemned him to death. Chiffney was so astonished to hear her voice that he stood still and turned around. When he saw her dressed in black, he was utterly bewildered. He had no idea what Josie was doing there in such unlikely attire. By the time he tried to move, it was too late. Tripping over the rail in his urgency, he fell directly across the path of the locomotive. Its large, merciless, revolving, cast-iron wheels sliced through him and rolled on uncaringly past the blood-covered remains.
Josie’s Murlow’s howl of despair reverberated around the whole station. Unwittingly, she had worn the appropriate dress, after all.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Coming off duty that evening, Caleb Andrews went straight home for once. Ordinarily, he would have joined his fireman for a drink in the tavern near Euston station but he chose to avoid the jocular company of other railwaymen. Since they knew of his friendship with Robert Colbeck, some of them were bound to tease him about the Railway Detective’s apparent failure and Andrews did not wish to give them that opportunity. He still had faith that Colbeck would prove that a crime had taken place and clear Frank Pike’s name in the process.
Even though natural light was fading, Madeleine was still at her easel when he got back. She broke off to give him a welcoming kiss.
‘Are you still working this late, Maddy?’
‘I enjoy it,’ she replied.
‘There’s not another woman in the whole country who’d look twice at the Round House,’ he said, inspecting the painting. He let out a whistle of admiration. ‘It’s good,’ he went on, ‘it’s very good. Your mother would’ve been so proud to know our little girl would grow up to be an artist.’
‘I’m not a
‘Yes, you are. You’re as good as any of them that hang their paintings in art galleries. This is one of your best,’ he went on, still gazing at it. ‘I’ve driven that locomotive more than once and I can see that you’ve got every single detail right.’
‘That’s why I’ve taken so much time over it.’
‘I wouldn’t mind putting it on the wall in here.’
‘There’s no chance of that, Father,’ she said. ‘This is a present for Robert – even though he doesn’t know it yet. It was Robert who really made me believe that I had some talent.’
‘I was the one who suggested taking you to the Round House,’ he reminded her. ‘By rights, that painting is mine.’
‘If you’re so fond of it, I’ll do a copy when I’ve finished this one.’
‘Why don’t you do a copy for Inspector Colbeck?’
‘He deserves the original.’
‘So do I, Maddy.’
It was only a token protest. Andrews pulled the newspaper from his pocket and unfolded it. He turned to the relevant page. By way of warning, he rolled his eyes.
‘I glanced at this before I left the station,’ he said, offering it to her. ‘There’s a cartoon about Inspector Colbeck.’
It was not a flattering one. Taking the newspaper, Madeleine looked at it with annoyance and concern. The cartoon depicted Colbeck, groping around a railway line in the gloom with a magnifying glass. There was a look of desperation on his face as he said “There must be a crime around here
‘It’s so spiteful,’ she complained. ‘This was the newspaper that called him the Railway Detective in the first place. They were full of praise for him then. Have they forgotten all the cases he’s solved?’
‘Don’t get so upset, Maddy.’
‘I feel like writing a letter to the editor.’
