‘Shall we all go there together? I know that she lives nearby.’
‘It’s only minutes away, Robert.’
‘This is a job for Maddy and me,’ announced Andrews, making an effort to control himself. ‘It was good of you to come, Inspector, and I’m very grateful. But I know Rose Pike well. She’ll be upset by the sight of a stranger. She’d much rather hear the news from friends.’
‘I accept that,’ said Colbeck.
‘Before we go, I’d like to hear more detail of what actually happened. Don’t worry,’ Andrews continued, holding up a palm, ‘I won’t pass any of it on to Rose. I just want to know whatever you can tell me about the accident. You don’t have to listen to this, Maddy,’ he said. ‘If it’s going to upset you, wait in the kitchen.’
‘I’ll stay here,’ she decided. ‘I want to hear everything.’
‘In that case,’ said Colbeck, weighing his words carefully, ‘I’ll tell you what we discovered when we got to the scene.’
Since he had been spared the ordeal of spending a night way from his family, Victor Leeming made no complaint about the early start. He and Colbeck were aboard a train that took them to Balcombe not long after dawn. It was a fine day and the sun was already painting the grass with gold. Watching the fields scud past, Leeming thought about the present he ought to buy for his wife’s forthcoming birthday, hoping that he would be able to spend some of the occasion with her instead of being sent away on police business. Colbeck was reading a newspaper bought at London Bridge station. As he read an account of the train crash, his jaw tightened.
‘Someone has been talking to Captain Ridgeon,’ he said.
The sergeant turned to him. ‘What’s that, Inspector?’
‘This report lays the blame squarely on the shoulders of Frank Pike. I just hope that his widow doesn’t read it.’
‘Isn’t it possible that the driver of the Brighton Express
‘I think it highly unlikely, Victor.’
‘Why?’
‘Pike had an unblemished record,’ said Colbeck. ‘If there had been any doubts at all about his skill as an engine driver, he would never have been allowed to take charge of the Brighton Express.’
‘We all make mistakes from time to time, sir.’
‘I’m not convinced that a mistake was made in this case.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘I don’t,’ admitted Colbeck. ‘I’m working on instinct.’
‘Well,’ said Leeming, ‘for what it’s worth, my instinct tells me that we’re on a wild goose chase. In my view, we could be more usefully employed elsewhere. We should let the railway company do their job while we get on with ours.’
‘I think you’ll find that the two jobs may overlap.’
‘Is that what Captain Ridgeon told you?’
‘Far from it, Victor,’ said the other with a grim chuckle. ‘The inspector general inclined to your view that we have no business at all being there. It was a polite way of saying that we were treading on his toes.’
‘So why are we bothering to go back, sir?’
‘We need to find out the truth – and if that involves stamping hard on both of the captain’s feet, so be it. We must establish whether the crash was accidental or deliberate.’
‘How do we do that?’
‘In two obvious ways,’ said Colbeck. ‘First, we inspect the point at which the express actually left the track to see if there’s any sign of criminal intent. Second, we speak to John Heddle. He was on the footplate at the time so will be an invaluable witness.’
‘I wonder why the driver didn’t have the sense to jump off.’
‘We may never know, Victor.’
Transferring to a cab at Balcombe station, they spent the rest of the journey in a more leisurely way. When they reached the site of the accident, they saw that considerable changes had taken place. Passengers were no longer strewn across the grass and all the medical assistance had disappeared. Work had continued throughout the night to clear the line so that it could be repaired. Fires were still burning and timber from the wreckage was being tossed on to them. Hoisted upright by cranes, the two battered locomotives stood side by side like a pair of shamefaced drunkards facing a magistrate after a night of mayhem. The body of Frank Pike had been removed.
Picking a way through the vestigial debris, the detectives reached the track for the up trains and walked along it in the direction of Balcombe. Beside them was a deep channel that had been gouged out of the earth by the rampaging Brighton Express. The rails of the parallel track had been ripped up and bent out of shape.
‘You can see what happened,’ noted Colbeck. ‘One side of the train was running on bare earth while the wheels on the other side were bouncing over the sleepers.’
‘It must have been a very bumpy ride, sir.’
‘Yes, Victor. On the other hand, the ground did act as a primitive braking system, slowing the express down a little and lessening the force of impact. This long furrow saved lives.’
‘But not enough of them,’ said Leeming under his breath.
They strolled on for over a quarter of a mile before they came to the point where the train had first parted company with the track. Four men in frock coats and top hats were clustered around the spot. As the detectives approached, the youngest of the men broke away to exchange greetings with them. Captain Ridgeon forced a smile.
‘Your journey is in vain, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘As we suspected, the Brighton Express left the rails here. It is, you’ll observe, on the crown of a bend. The indications are that the train was travelling too fast to negotiate the bend properly.’
‘This is not what I’d call a real bend,’ said Colbeck, studying the broken rail then looking up the line beyond it. ‘It’s no more than a gentle curve. High speed would not have caused a derailment.’
‘Then what would have done so?’ challenged Ridgeon.
‘The most likely thing is an obstacle on the line.’
‘Where is it? We’d surely have found it by now. Besides, John Heddle, the fireman, would have noticed any obstacle in the path of the train and he swears that he saw nothing.’
‘I’d like to speak to Heddle myself.’
‘He’ll only tell you what he told us, Inspector. Nothing was blocking the line. We had an accident near here some years ago when a goods train hit a cow that had strayed on to the track. Since then, both sides have been fenced off.’
Colbeck was not listening to him. Crouching down, he ran a hand along the section of flat-bottomed, cast iron rail that had sprung away at an acute angle from the track. The section was curved but more or less intact. Colbeck stood up and gazed around.
‘What are you looking for, Inspector?’ asked Leeming.
‘The fishplates that held this rail in place,’ said Colbeck.
‘They would have been split apart when the train left the track,’ said Ridgeon, irritated by what he saw as the detective’s unwarranted interference. ‘It was going at high speed, remember.’
‘In that case, they would have been bent out of shape but still fixed to the sleeper. Yet there’s no sign of them, Captain Ridgeon.’ Colbeck pointed a finger. ‘You can see the holes in the timber where the bolts used to be.’
‘Then they were obviously ripped out by the train.’
‘I disagree. I fancy that they were removed beforehand.’
‘That’s a preposterous notion!’ said Ridgeon with scorn. ‘You’ll be telling me next that someone deliberately levered the rail away.’
‘I may be telling you exactly that, sir,’ said Colbeck.
After examining the rail again with great care, he signalled to Leeming and the two of them began to scour the immediate area. Ridgeon and the other men looked on with ill-concealed disdain. Having made up their minds
