about the cause of the accident, they resented being told that they might have made a mistake. The search was thorough but fruitless and Leeming spread his arms wide in despair. It was a cue for Ridgeon to resume his conversation with the others. They turned their back on the two interlopers.
Colbeck, however, did not give up easily. Widening the search, he removed his hat so that he could poke his head into the thick bushes that bordered the track on one side. Leeming joined him with patent reluctance. They burrowed away in the undergrowth. While the inspector made sure that he did not damage his clothing in any way, the sergeant scuffed the knees of his trousers and snagged his coat on a sharp twig. Leeming was also stung by a lurking nettle.
Captain Ridgeon, meanwhile, finished his discussion with his colleagues and made some notes on a pad as the others walked away. He was still writing when he heard footsteps approaching and he looked up to see Colbeck coming towards him. The inspector was holding a fishplate in each hand.
‘We found these,’ he said, passing them to Ridgeon. ‘As you’ll see, they’re not bent or damaged in any way. That’s because the bolts were removed so that these plates could be lifted away and tossed into the bushes.’
‘That proves nothing,’ said Ridgeon, defiantly.
‘It proves that they were not torn apart by the force of the train. Victor found one of the bolts. That, too, was undamaged. It was taken out by someone who knew what he was doing. My guess is that the section of line was then prised away, making a derailment inevitable.’
Ridgeon was icily polite. ‘I’m grateful to you for your opinion, Inspector Colbeck,’ he said, ‘but, in essence, that’s all it is – a personal, unsought, uninformed opinion. On the basis of what I’ve seen and heard, I still believe that a fatal error was made by the driver, Frank Pike.’
‘How can I change your mind?’
‘It would be foolhardy of you even to try.’
‘A crime was committed here.’
‘Yes – and the man who perpetrated it was a careless driver.’
‘Inspector!’ bellowed Leeming.
The two men looked across at a large bush that was shaking violently. After a moment, the sergeant emerged out of it, scratched and dishevelled but wearing a triumphant grin. In his hands, he was carrying a pickaxe. He waved it in the air.
Colbeck turned slowly to confront the inspector general.
‘Perhaps you can explain that away, sir,’ he said.
CHAPTER FOUR
John Heddle was a restless patient. Propped up on two pillows, he sat in bed and constantly shifted his position. His head was swathed in blood-stained bandaging, his face covered with abrasions, his body bruised all over and one of his ankles was badly sprained. Aching and itching, he was in continual discomfort but the main source of his pain was the memory of what had happened the previous day. He was tormented by guilt. Heddle could not forgive himself for abandoning the Brighton Express and letting Frank Pike go on alone to a hideous death.
His wife, Mildred, a pale, thin, nervous, wide-eyed young woman, stood beside the bed and watched him with growing alarm. Her pretty face was disfigured by a frown and every muscle was tense. She indicated the large cup on the bedside table.
‘Drink some tea, John,’ she pleaded.
‘Take it away.’
‘Your mother said it would do you good.’
‘I spent years being forced to drink my mother’s beef tea,’ he said with disgust, ‘and it tasted like engine oil. I never want to touch a drop of that foul poison ever again.’
‘Then why don’t you try to get some sleep?’
‘How can I, Mill? I’m hurting all over.’
‘If only there was something I could do,’ she said, wringing her hands. ‘Can I put some more ointment on your face?’
‘Just leave me alone,’ he advised with distant affection. ‘I know you mean well but I’d rather suffer on my own. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of housework to do.’
‘I want to look after you, John. I want to help.’
‘Then take that beef tea away. The very sight of it scares me.’
She picked up the cup and saucer then ventured to give him a tender kiss on the side of his head. Heddle managed a wan smile of gratitude. He could not have had a more loving and attentive nurse. When there was a knock on the front door, his smile became a scowl.
‘If that’s my mother,’ he instructed, ‘tell her I’m asleep.’
‘I can’t lie to her,’ she said.
‘Protect me from her, Mill. I can’t face Mother today.’
Biting her lip, Mildred gave him a sympathetic stare then went out of the room. He heard her clack down the wooden steps. The house was in a backstreet in Southwark. Though it was small, neglected and part of a dismal terrace, it had seemed like a haven when they moved in six months earlier to escape the ordeal of living with Mildred’s parents. Heddle had been full of plans to improve their home but long working hours for the LB&SCR had left him little time to start on the house. He had not even mended the broken window or repaired the roof over the privy at the end of the tiny garden.
Voices rose up from below. Since one of them belonged to a man, he was at once relieved and wary, glad that it was not his mother yet afraid that it might be someone from the railway company, demanding that he return to his duties. Two pairs of feet began to ascend the staircase. Mildred entered the bedroom first, shaking with fear. She touched her husband softly on the shoulder.
‘This gentleman is a policeman, John,’ she said, voice trembling. ‘Whatever have you done wrong?’
‘Nothing at all, Mrs Heddle,’ Colbeck assured her, stepping into the room. ‘I just need to speak to your husband about the accident.’
He introduced himself to the patient then shepherded Mildred gently out of the room. After asking Heddle how he was feeling, Colbeck lowered himself on to the chair beside the bed.
‘How much do you remember of what happened?’ he asked.
‘Not very much, sir,’ confessed Heddle. ‘I had a bang on the head and I still can’t think straight. All I remember is that Frank yelled at me to jump and I did.’
‘So it was Mr Pike’s suggestion, was it?’
‘He stayed on the footplate. Nothing would have made Frank abandon the train. He’d have seen that as a betrayal.’ Heddle hunched his shoulders. ‘That’s why I feel so bad about it. I mean, when I leapt off like that, I betrayed
‘That’s not true at all,’ said Colbeck. ‘You obeyed his order so you have no need to reproach yourself.’ He leant in closer. ‘Let’s go back to the moment when you first realised there was danger.’
‘But I
‘Oh?’
‘To be honest, I’m still in the dark.’
‘Go on.’
‘Well,’ said Heddle, rubbing a sore elbow, ‘it was like this, see. We’d crossed the Ouse Viaduct and were steaming along nicely when Frank saw something ahead that frightened him.’
‘What was it?’
‘That’s the trouble, sir, I’ve no idea. I just couldn’t see what Frank had seen but I knew we had a big problem. I could tell by the tone of his voice. The next minute, we’d left the track and all we could do was to pray. Then we both saw another train coming towards us. Frank saved my life. When he told me to jump, I hurled myself off the footplate straight away.’ His eyes moistened. ‘If only Frank had done the same. I loved working with him. He was a good driver and one of the kindest men I know.’
‘Yes,’ said Colbeck, ‘I met Frank Pike. He seemed a thoroughly decent man. Everyone speaks well of him, especially Caleb Andrews.’
Heddle gave an involuntary shiver. ‘Have you been talking to that old tyrant?’ he said. ‘When I worked for the
