Detective if there’d been no railways? If you’ll pardon a dreadful pun, they’ve been a great boon to me. Thanks to trains, my men have been able to move around much more quickly.’
‘That cuts both ways,’ said Colbeck. ‘It also means that villains can leave the scene of the crime and be miles away in no time at all.’
‘It’s exactly what happened in this case,’ suggested Peebles, diffidently. ‘Murder was actually committed
‘Let’s hope that we can find a signpost in Manchester that will point us in the right direction.’
‘You haven’t given us much time,’ said Boone. ‘Besides, we have a large number of other crimes to solve, so I haven’t been able to deploy very many of my men.’
‘That’s why we’re here, Zachary,’ said Colbeck. ‘We’ve come to do some of the legwork and to acquaint Constable Peebles with the joys of being a detective.’
‘I didn’t know there
‘Let me tell you what we’ve already done,’ volunteered Boone.
Plunging a hand into a small mountain of papers, he drew out one that contained a list of names and addresses in a looping hand. Some of them had ticks against them. He explained that they had already been discounted as a result of visits by his men. All that remained were three names and addresses. He handed the list to Colbeck.
‘We were lucky, Robert,’ he said. ‘There were not all that many people by the name of Adnam. Thank heaven you didn’t ask me to list all the O’Briens or the O’Rourkes. In some of the Irish districts, they could run into the hundreds.’
Colbeck perused the addresses. ‘Where are these places?’
‘Two of them are in relatively safe areas. That’s to say, they’ll try to stab you in the chest rather than in the back, so you’re at least accorded the courtesy of a warning. The third address is in Deansgate. I’d advise anyone against going there on his own.’
‘We can all stay together,’ said Leeming.
‘That would only waste time, Victor,’ decided Colbeck, passing the list to him. ‘Memorise those details, if you will. Then you and the constable can visit two of the addresses while I pay a call on Silas Adnam in Deansgate.’
‘Looking like that, you’d present a tempting target,’ said Boone, appraising the debonair figure of Colbeck. ‘There’s nobody there as refined and elegant as you, Robert. You’d stand out like a hedgehog on a billiard table. Why don’t I assign one of my men to accompany you?’
‘I can manage on my own, thank you. In any case, I won’t be going there in a frock coat and top hat.’ Colbeck patted his valise. ‘I brought a change of clothing for just such a situation.’ He snatched the piece of paper from Leeming’s hands. ‘Off you go, Sergeant. Give me the names and addresses you’ve just memorised.’
Leeming gulped. ‘Well …’
‘I know them, Inspector,’ said Peebles before rattling off the information. ‘I think you’ll find that I’m correct.’
‘I could have told you all that,’ said Leeming, hurt.
‘I’m sure that you could, Victor,’ said Colbeck, ‘but you were fortunate to have the constable to prompt you. I told you that he’d prove his worth when we got to Manchester.’
While Peebles basked in the praise, Leeming smouldered.
Madeleine had always enjoyed her regular visits to the market. It gave her an opportunity to get out of the house and to meet a succession of friends and neighbours. Since she often incorporated a call on her aunt, she was able to keep in touch with another branch of the family as well. As she set off again with a basket over her arm, she knew exactly what to buy and where to buy it. Most of the items on the list were chosen because they were her father’s preferences. A creature of habit, Caleb Andrews was very particular about his food and drink.
Two thoughts suddenly struck her, causing her to check her stride. The first was that she would not be making this pilgrimage indefinitely. What would happen to her father’s larder when she was no longer there to keep it filled? Shopping in the market was largely a chore for women, and not merely because their husbands were usually at work. When it came to meat, fruit and vegetables, they were far more discerning customers and they could also haggle more effectively. On the few occasions when her father had accompanied her, he’d been ready to accept the first price given by individual stallholders. Andrews relied on his daughter to secure the best deal.
How would he cope on his own? They hired a woman to come into the house a couple of days a week to do domestic chores but she could never replace Madeleine at the market.
The second thought was consequent upon the first. When she gave up shopping for her father, would she have to do it for her husband? Because no firm date had been set for the wedding, and because it had seemed to recede every time she raised the issue with Colbeck, she’d never really considered the details of her exact role as a wife. Would she be expected to do all the things she had done for her father? Colbeck had inherited a sizeable house in John Islip Street and had two servants to look after it. Madeleine had never employed full-time servants. Could she delegate the shopping to one of them? It was a moot point.
She had a moment of slight panic when she realised how her existence would be transformed by marriage. There would be so much for her to learn. Yet Colbeck had already brought about many major changes in her life. Until he came into it, she could never have envisaged a relationship with such a highly intelligent member of the middle class. Her father had wanted her to marry another railwayman and it was from his circle of friends that her admirers necessarily came. Colbeck had altered all that. Madeleine had been able to educate herself by means of his extensive library and to improve her talent as an artist so much that her work was now in demand. She had, in more than one sense, emancipated herself from her class. As Mrs Colbeck, she would be a very different person from Miss Andrews.
Her first thought returned with greater urgency and it posed a burning question. When she left home after the marriage, who would look after her father?
Disguise was an established part of Colbeck’s armoury. There were parts of London where he would never dare to venture in his usual attire because it would make him stand out. To merge with the denizens, he had to look as if he belonged. For his visit to Deansgate, therefore, he changed into the rough garb he’d brought with him, wearing a large, battered cap and a pair of old boots. When he entered the district, he even adjusted his walk. Instead of his usual measured gait, he adopted a furtive scuffle. It meant that nobody gave him a second glance.
Having located Adnam’s address, he first went to the nearest pub, reasoning that anyone who lived in such a depressing place would need the support of alcohol. The Eagle and Child was a dark, evil-smelling establishment filled with shabby characters hunched around the rickety tables. For the price of a pint of beer, Colbeck bought the landlord’s attention and gained some useful information about Silas Adnam. One fact was particularly significant.
‘Silas was in here last night,’ said the landlord, ‘drinking himself into a stupor. I reckon his daughter must have been to see him again because he had money to spend.’
‘Do you know the daughter’s name?’ asked Colbeck.
‘Yes – it’s Irene.’
‘Have you ever seen her?’
The landlord shook his head. ‘She’s too good for the likes of us.’
After finishing his drink, Colbeck walked the short distance to the house and banged on the door. He had to pound it again before it was opened. The whiskery face of Silas Adnam confronted him.
‘What do you want?’ he snarled.
‘I’ve come to talk about your daughter.’
‘She’s not here.’
‘I know,’ said Colbeck, ‘but she has been and that means you and I must have a conversation.’
Pushing the door open, he stepped into the house and ignored the protests from the old man. When Colbeck explained who he was, Adnam’s tone became defensive.
‘Irene is a good girl,’ he said. ‘She takes care of me.’
