part in a struggle with an invisible assailant. He then opened the door and dragged a body across to it. Satisfied that he had reconstructed the crime with some accuracy, he shut the door again.
‘What do we do now, Inspector?’ asked Leeming.
‘We go our separate ways, Victor.’
‘Oh?’
‘You can return to London to report to the superintendent. Rehearse what you’re going to say beforehand. That way, he won’t unsettle you so much.’
Leeming rolled his eyes. ‘Mr Tallis was born to unsettle me.’
‘Console yourself with the thought that you can see your wife and family again this evening. I know how much you hate to spend a night away from Estelle and the children.’
‘I miss them, Inspector. Wait until you get married. You’ll begin to understand then.’
Colbeck smiled. ‘I already do, I assure you.’
‘Where will you be?’
‘I’ll be searching for Oxley’s accomplice.’
‘But you have no idea where to start.’
‘Yes, I do,’ said Colbeck. ‘You heard what Constable Marner told us. She’s a Manchester girl.’
‘It’s a big city, sir. You could spend a lifetime hunting for her there. And that’s assuming that she’s actually in Manchester.’
‘It doesn’t matter if she is or if she isn’t, Victor.’
Leeming was baffled. ‘I don’t follow.’
‘If she’s working with Jerry Oxley, the chances are that she’s no novice. He’d always choose someone with experience.’
‘So?’
‘She’ll have a criminal record,’ said Colbeck. ‘The police up there will know of her even if they’ve never managed to arrest the woman. I want to put a name to her face, then we can start looking for her in earnest.
Jeremy Oxley had learnt to travel light. When he’d committed a crime, he immediately moved away from the area and went to ground for a while before selecting his next target. In the course of his travels, he would either stay in hotels under an assumed name or in the homes of criminal associates. Since he was an expert at his trade, he always had plenty of money to buy whatever he needed and to indulge the latest women in his life. Irene had lasted much longer than any of her predecessors. She had never stayed at hotels of such quality before but quickly adapted to her good fortune. Oxley was impressed by the fact that she was the least acquisitive of his mistresses. While others had demanded jewellery and other gifts, Irene was content simply to be with him and to take part in his exploits. The thrill of acting as his accessory was enough for her.
After almost a year of uninterrupted success, their luck had finally run out in Wolverhampton and Oxley had been arrested. His faith in Irene had been justified. Taking risks and displaying careful forethought, she’d rescued him on a train and earned his profound admiration. What pleased him was that she was no longer agonising over the murder of two policemen. She had not mentioned them all morning.
‘Tell me about this Inspector Colbeck,’ she said.
‘If you read the newspapers, you wouldn’t need to ask me that. Colbeck has built up a reputation for solving crimes on the railways. He never fails,’ warned Oxley. ‘At least, he doesn’t seem to have done so thus far. His nickname is the Railway Detective.’
‘What sort of man is he?’
‘I never actually met him. He used to be a barrister.’
‘They make lots of money, don’t they?’
‘The best ones certainly do.’
‘Why did he give up his job to become a policeman?’
Oxley smirked. ‘I like to think that I might have something to do with that,’ he bragged. ‘Colbeck is prepared to accept much lower pay for the sheer pleasure of catching people like me.’
They were in their room at a hotel not far from the station. Now that they were alone, Irene wanted to hear more details. She glanced at the report in
‘It says here that the inspector is a master at what he does.’
‘The same is true of me, Irene. I’ve managed to stay several steps ahead of Colbeck for a decade now. Not that I’ve been involved in a railway crime before, mind you. That singles me out. He’ll have been delighted to have an excuse to stalk me.’
‘How do we keep out of his way?’
‘Leave that to me.’
She put the newspaper aside. ‘Tell me about the woman – the one that you killed.’
‘You don’t want to hear about her,’ he said, flicking a hand.
‘Yes, I do. What was her name?’
‘I’m not even sure that I can remember it. Let me see. It was Helen something. Middleton? No – that wasn’t it, but it’s close.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘I have it – Millington. Her name was Helen Millington. She was looking in the window of the shop when I came running out, so she had a clear view of me. Lots of other people did as well,’ he went on, ‘but we managed to frighten the majority of them off with a warning of retribution. Miss Millington was stupid enough to ignore the warning.’
‘What happened?’
‘When I escaped from prison, I paid her a visit.’
‘So you didn’t have to appear in court.’
‘No, Irene – I was free.’
‘Then this woman wouldn’t have been able to give evidence against you, would she? Why didn’t you just ignore her?’
‘I wanted to send a message to the other people who’d seen me shoot the jeweller. The letters they’d received from a friend of mine were not made up of empty threats. I honoured my promise to kill anyone who spoke against me. Helen Millington had to die.’
‘But her death was unnecessary.’
His eyes blazed. ‘Not to me.’
Irene was upset. During his time with her, Oxley had avoided any gratuitous violence. He only struck out when – as in the train – it was vital to do so. His ideal crime was one in which nobody got hurt. He’d threatened people with a gun on occasion but she’d never seen him fire it. The thought that he’d hunted down a woman who was no longer a danger to him was unnerving. It revealed an innate brutality that Irene had never discerned before.
‘How did you kill her?’ she asked.
‘Does it matter?’
‘I’d like to know, that’s all.’
‘I strangled her with my bare hands,’ he said, calmly. ‘I choked the life out of Helen Millington. It was no more than she deserved. Her family had begged her not to give evidence against me but she was persuaded by Robert Colbeck that it was her duty to do so. If you ask me, he was rather more than just a barrister involved in the case. I fancy that he and Miss Millington became close friends. In killing her, therefore, I gained myself a bitter enemy. Colbeck is the type of man who never forgets.’
Irene had never felt afraid of him before but she did now. His attitude to his victim was callous and uncaring. Being a member of the fairer sex had not saved Helen Millington. When his temper was roused, it seemed, Oxley would murder indiscriminately. There was blood on Irene’s hands as well, but she took no pride in the fact. Deep down, she was still mortified by what she’d done, wishing there had been an easier way to liberate Oxley. She had been compelled to kill someone, whereas he had done it for the pleasure of revenge.
‘I thought you were going to see your father,’ he said. ‘That’s why we came to Manchester, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, Jerry – I’ll go now.’
‘Would you like me to come with you?’
