put together.’
Colbeck made his customary early start next morning. Arriving at his office, however, he discovered that Ian Peebles was there already, standing outside the door as if on sentry duty. Colbeck guessed that it was his new colleague and offered a friendly smile.
‘You must be Constable Peebles,’ he said, extending a palm. ‘The superintendent told me about you last night.’
‘I’m honoured to meet you, Inspector,’ said Peebles, shaking his hand. ‘I’ve followed your career with great interest.’
‘I see.’ He opened the door. ‘Let’s go on in, shall we?’
As they went into the office, Colbeck walked behind his desk and turned to take a closer look at Peebles. There was a suppressed eagerness in the other’s face. Well groomed and watchful, he exuded an intelligence that was rare among policemen who patrolled London streets. Notwithstanding the constable’s youthful appearance, Colbeck did not share Leeming’s estimation of him. Where the sergeant saw fatal immaturity, Colbeck sensed promise. He just wished for a little less silent adulation from Peebles.
‘Tell me about yourself, Constable,’ he invited.
‘There’s really not much to tell, sir.’
‘Stop hiding your light under a bushel. Superintendent Tallis holds you in high regard. There has to be a good reason for that.’
‘I’ll endeavour to repay his faith in me.’
Peebles spoke briefly about his time in the army and on the beat as a police constable. He was very articulate. Yet beneath the man’s surface modesty, Colbeck sensed a burning ambition to rise in rank at the department. It was a laudable aim and, after studying him with care, Colbeck felt that he might well have a successful career ahead of him. Peebles was untypical of the men whom the Metropolitan Police Force attracted. Other discharged soldiers joined the force but few had the constable’s qualities. Recruits came largely from the labouring classes, sturdy men whose former trades had given them the physical conditioning necessary to enforce the law. While the vast majority would spend their entire career in uniform, Peebles had been given promotion in a remarkably short time.
There was a shock in store for Colbeck.
‘I have to repay my wife’s faith in me as well,’ said Peebles.
Colbeck was amazed. ‘You’re
‘I’m about to be fairly soon, Inspector. It’s one of the consequences of moving to Scotland Yard. The increase in pay has made it possible for me to support a wife.’
‘Does the superintendent know about this?’
‘It was the first thing he asked me about.’
‘Then he must value you highly,’ said Colbeck. ‘My advice is to say as little as possible to him about your private life. He believes that marriage is a distraction for his detectives and would prefer us all to lead lives of total abstinence.’
Peebles laughed. ‘This is not a monastery.’
‘The superintendent has yet to accept that. It’s perfectly possible for detectives to combine marriage with fulfilment of their duties here. Sergeant Leeming is proof of that.’
As if on cue, Leeming came walking along the corridor. He turned in through the open door of Colbeck’s office.
‘Did I hear my name being taken in vain?’ he asked.
‘I was just holding you up as a golden example, Victor.’
‘It’s not often that anyone does that, sir.’
‘I do,’ said Peebles. ‘I want to follow in your footsteps.’
‘I need to redirect your footsteps, Constable,’ said Colbeck. ‘You will be travelling to Manchester this morning with the sergeant and me. In case we may have to spend the night there, I suggest that you provide yourself with anything necessary.’
‘Aye, sir,’ said Peebles, keen to be involved. ‘Does this mean that you made some progress when you were there yesterday?’
‘I’ll tell you everything on the train.’
‘Thank you.’
After giving each of them a smile, Peebles hurried out. Leeming closed the door after him so that he could speak in private.
He was bitter. ‘Does the superintendent
‘That’s a strange question. You know that he does.’
‘Then why has he handicapped us with Constable Peebles? The fellow has no experience at all.’
‘What better way to gain it?’
‘I think that he’ll hamper the investigation.’
‘Then I must disagree with you,’ said Colbeck. ‘I fancy that he could turn out to be an asset to us.’
‘He’ll be too busy
‘How else can he learn what to do?’
‘You don’t understand, sir. Peebles has been keeping press cuttings of all our cases. He has a whole scrapbook of them. Every move we make will be noted down and preserved.’
Colbeck smiled. ‘Every Doctor Johnson needs a Boswell.’
‘Does he?’ Leeming was bewildered. ‘I’m sorry but I don’t know any detectives by those names.’
‘That doesn’t matter, Victor. The simple fact is that I like our new colleague and anticipate good things of him. It’s always a little unnerving to be put on a pedestal but it does have an advantage. It keeps us on our toes,’ said Colbeck. ‘We mustn’t disillusion him. If he believes that we are the pride of the department, we must offer him some justification for our status, and we can only do that by bringing this investigation to a speedy conclusion. Gird your loins,’ he urged, ‘and get ready for a train journey to Manchester. We have to demonstrate to Constable Peebles the difficult art of detection.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
Inspector Zachary Boone was busier than ever, listening to reports about various incidents, dispatching constables to investigate others, speculating with his superintendent on the outcome of a trial and juggling a large number of other commitments. When three visitors from London suddenly descended on him, Boone was upbraiding a luckless constable who had foolishly allowed a suspect to evade capture. Pleased to see Colbeck again, he reserved judgement on his friend’s companions. In Boone’s opinion, Leeming looked like a battle-scarred wrestler in stolen apparel while Peebles resembled nothing so much as an overgrown schoolboy. The inspector was surprised to learn that they were both serving officers in the Detective Department.
‘You’re very welcome,’ said Boone, standing behind his desk, ‘but if you expect to sit down in here, it will have to be on the floor. There’s only room for my chair and one other.’
‘We’re happy to stand, Zachary,’ said Colbeck.
‘Did you have a good journey?’
‘Yes, we did.’
‘It was an express train,’ explained Peebles. ‘The inspector chose it specifically. We couldn’t have had a better trip.’
‘Speak for yourself,’ said Leeming. ‘Trains upset my stomach.’
‘Sympathetic as we are,’ said Colbeck with a consoling smile, ‘we can’t have our movements dictated by your queasiness.’
‘I sometimes wish that locomotives had never been invented.’
‘Then you’d have been out of a job,’ noted Boone. ‘How could you have worked with the famous Railway
