Blood on the Line

‘That, too, was necessary.’

‘I don’t believe that it was, Miss Adnam. You had a weapon. You could have held it on the policemen and ordered them to release Oxley. You could have handcuffed them so that they couldn’t pursue you,’ he said. ‘In fact, there are all sorts of things you could have done other than shooting one man dead then hurling the two of them under an oncoming train.’

‘That wasn’t my idea!’ she shouted, hands to her temples.

‘Did you raise an objection?’

‘No – it all happened so quickly. I had no time.’

‘But you do have time now, Miss Adnam,’ Colbeck told her. ‘You have plenty of time to reflect on the crimes you helped to commit while you and Oxley were together. In retrospect, I think you’ll find, they were neither necessary nor justifiable.’

Colbeck paused to allow time for his words to sink in. Irene had a surface hardness that he believed he could penetrate. She was not as cold and heartless as Oxley. In talking about the escape from the train, he’d already put one small wedge between them. If his plan was to succeed, he needed to insert a much larger one.

‘How well do you know Jeremy Oxley?’ he asked.

‘I know him extremely well. He’s a wonderful man.’

‘Then you have a warped idea of wonder, Miss Adnam. Had you seen the way that Nathan Holly’s skull had caved in, I doubt that you’d have hailed his attacker as a wonderful man. I leave it to your imagination,’ said Colbeck, ‘how two human beings look when a train passes over them at high speed. The remains had to be gathered up in a couple of sacks.’

She began to retch and pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve to hold against her mouth. He gave her another respite. Her defences were weakening. Irene was starting to look like a cornered animal. At length, Colbeck resumed the interrogation.

‘Did he ever mention that he’d killed a young woman?’

‘Yes, he did.’

‘Were you shocked?’

She lowered her head. ‘I must confess that I was.’

‘Did it make you fear for your own safety?’

‘Not in the least.’

‘I think you’re lying, Miss Adnam.’

‘Jerry would never have hurt me!’ she cried.

‘Do you know how he murdered that young woman?’ There was a long pause. She refused to look at him. ‘I think that you do. I think that he told you that he strangled her.’

Her head came up. ‘He also told me that you and this woman were close friends,’ she taunted, ‘and that you were the one who persuaded her to give evidence in court against Jerry. That’s why you’ve been chasing him so hard all these years, isn’t it? You were in love with her.’

Caught off guard by her attack, Colbeck felt as if he’d been slapped across the face. It was a sobering moment. He needed a while to control the intense feelings that had suddenly welled up inside him. He inhaled deeply through his nose.

‘Her name was Helen Millington,’ he said, solemnly, ‘and what you say about her is, to some extent, correct. I make no apology for my friendship with her. She was a remarkable young woman. I just hope that you will make no apology for someone for whom you care, Miss Adnam. Hear the whole story and you will see that he doesn’t deserve it. As I said earlier, it’s only when you know the full facts about someone that you see them in the round and can arrive at a proper judgement.’

‘You’ll say anything to blacken Jerry’s name,’ she sneered.

‘I would have thought that it was black enough as it is. You don’t have to believe me, of course. That’s your privilege. But you must ask yourself why I should trouble to confide details that are excruciatingly painful to me.’

Irene could see the sincerity in his eyes. She was apprehensive. He was about to tell her something she had no wish to hear. She flapped a hand and turned away.

‘He strangled her,’ she said. ‘What more is there to say?’

‘He obviously didn’t tell you what he did to her beforehand.’

‘That’s irrelevant.’

‘Not in my book,’ said Colbeck, forcefully. ‘Every detail is highly relevant because it tells me exactly the kind of man that Oxley is.’

‘You’ll never change my view of him, Inspector.’

‘I don’t need to – Helen Millington will do that for me. She was about the same age as you, as it happens, and equally as beautiful. She’d led a blameless life. It was her ill luck to witness a man being shot outside a jeweller’s shop but she had the presence of mind to take a close look at the killer. It was Oxley.’

‘I know all this.’

‘Then you’ll know why he took his revenge on her.’

‘Jerry has a temper,’ she conceded. ‘He can act rashly.’

‘I’m glad you’ve found a defect in this paragon,’ said Colbeck, ‘because I’m going to identify a few more. It was not enough for him to kill Miss Millington, you see, he had to make her suffer for her bravery in coming forward. When he discovered where she lived, he abducted her and spirited her away to a place where nobody would interrupt them. He stripped her naked and tied her up with wire that cut deep into her wrists. The first thing he did – and I choose a polite phrase to cover a brutal act – was to relieve her of her virginity. Jeremy Oxley then began to torture her.’

As he related the details, Colbeck’s voice became hoarse with disgust and his head began to pound. Seeing that he’d finally got her attention, however, he forced himself to go on and talk about things that had haunted him for years. Irene tried not to listen but the words kept hammering away at her ears. She was revolted. Much as she wanted to disbelieve it all, she knew that his account had the ring of truth. Oxley did not simply diminish in her esteem. He slowly turned into a ravening beast. There had been hints. Since the time they’d been together, there’d been several hints of darker passions in him, moments when she prayed that she would never be close to him if he lost control of his temper. That was what he’d done with Helen Millington. In a fit of anger, he’d abused her, tortured her and mutilated her so badly that neither her parents – nor Colbeck – had been able to identify her from her face.

When it was all over, Colbeck was as moved as Irene had been.

‘I’m sorry I had to tell you all that,’ he said, quietly. ‘I just wanted you to understand why I’ve dedicated myself to the capture of Jeremy Oxley. He has no place in a civilised world.’

Preparation was everything. Oxley had learnt that long ago. If he failed to make adequate preparation for a crime, then the chances of a successful outcome were lessened. Time was on his side. He had a whole day in which to appraise the building and to observe the normal procedure at the courthouse. First of all, he strolled past and took a close look at the front. Then he walked around the block so that he could examine the building from the rear. Returning to the front, he crossed the road and went into the bookshop opposite. Pretending to study a book, he kept one eye on the window. From his vantage point, he could see police vehicles arrive at the courthouse. Each followed the same pattern. They would turn into the yard at the side of the building. The driver would then unlock the door at the back of the van and the prisoner would be brought out, handcuffed to a second policeman. All three of them went into the courthouse.

It was a simple, unvarying routine. Having watched it three times, Oxley knew it off by heart. His next step was to get inside the building so that he could learn its geography. It involved dodging various court officials but he was adept at that. He eventually worked his way around to the entrance where the prisoners were admitted and made a note of the rooms through which they’d have to pass. At that point, he was disturbed by a janitor.

‘Can I help you, sir?’ asked the man.

‘I was looking for a …’

A smile and a gesture replaced the word. The janitor led him to the lavatory at the side of the building, explaining pointedly that it was not generally accessible to members of the public. Oxley had already taken the trouble to change some of his money into the local currency. He responded to the broad hint from the janitor by