The excursion train

'Why did you come here?'

'That's private, sir,' she said, evasively. 'Not that it matters any more, I suppose. If my husband has died, I can get away from this place.' She clutched her hands to her breast. 'If only Jake had listened to that doctor! He was told to take it easy.' She read the look in Colbeck's eyes and stiffened. 'There's something you haven't told me, isn't there?' she asked, warily. 'It wasn't his heart, after all.'

'No, Mrs Bransby,' he said, gently. 'There's no way to hide the truth, I fear. Your husband was killed this afternoon.'

'Killed?' she gasped. 'There's been an accident?'

'Unfortunately not. At some time around noon today, Mr Bransby was murdered on an excursion train.'

'Holy Mary!' she exclaimed.

She looked up at the picture of the Virgin, crossed herself then brought both hands up to her face. Louise Bransby was too stunned to say anything. Lost in a world of her own, she needed several minutes to recover her composure. Colbeck waited beside her, ready to offer physical support if need be, relieved that she did not burst into tears or howl with anguish as other women had done in similar circumstances. Imparting news of a tragedy to a wife was a duty that had fallen to him more than once in Hoxton and it had always been an uncomfortable task.

When she eventually lowered her hands, her eyes were moist but there was no overt display of grief. Louise Bransby was a woman who had learnt to keep her emotions under control in difficult situations and Colbeck suspected that she had had a lot of experience in doing so. There was an innate strength about her that he admired, a practical streak, a capacity for dealing with things as they were instead of clinging on pointlessly to how they had been. He offered her a handkerchief but she shook her head.

'Is there anything that I can get you, Mrs Bransby?' he inquired.

'No, Inspector.'

'A glass of water, perhaps?'

'I'll be well in a moment.'

'Are you sure there isn't a friend I could invite in?'

'Yes,' she said with sudden contempt. 'Quite sure. I don't want anyone here knowing my business. I can manage on my own.' She made an effort to pull herself together. 'How did it happen?'

'This may not be the time to go into details,' he said, trying to keep the full horror from her at this stage. 'Suffice it to say that it was a quick death. Your husband would not have lingered in agony.'

'Where was he killed?'

'At Twyford Station. When the train stopped, everyone rushed to get off. Evidently, someone took advantage of the commotion to attack Mr Bransby.' Hands clasped in her lap, she gazed down at them. 'We found a bill for some leather on him. Was your husband a cobbler?'

'Yes, Inspector.'

'Did he work from home?'

'He has a shed in the yard at the back of the house.'

'The bill is your property now,' he said, reaching inside his coat, 'and so is his wallet.' Colbeck extracted them and set them on a small table close to her. 'There were also a few coins in a secret pocket,' he went on, fishing them out to place beside the other items. 'That was not all that we found on your husband, Mrs Bransby.' She glanced up. 'Do you know what I'm talking about?'

'His watch.'

'It's a very expensive one.'

'But paid for, Inspector,' she declared, 'like everything else in this house. Jake earned that watch, he did. He worked hard for it. That's why he took such good care of it. I sewed the pouch into his waistcoat for him. That watch was got honestly, I swear it.'

'I'm sure that it was,' said Colbeck, producing the watch from a pocket and giving it to her. 'But it was a rather unexpected thing to find on your husband.' He brought out the dagger. 'And so was this. Do you know why he carried it?'

'This is a dangerous place to live.'

'I know that. I walked the beat in Hoxton as a constable.'

'Jake never felt safe here.'

'Then why did you move to this part of London?'

'We had to go somewhere,' she said with an air of resignation. 'And we'd tried three or four other places.'

'Couldn't you settle anywhere?' he probed.

'My husband was a restless man.'

'But a cobbler depends on building up local trade,' he noted. 'Every time you moved, he must have had to search for new customers.'

'We got by.'

'Obviously.'

'And we never borrowed a penny – unlike some around here.'

'That's very much to your credit, Mrs Bransby.'

'We had too much pride, Inspector. We cared. That's why I dislike the neighbours. They have no pride. No self-respect.'

There was an edge of defiance in her voice that puzzled him. Minutes ago, she had learnt of the murder of her husband yet she seemed to have set that aside. Louise Bransby was more concerned with correcting any false impression that he might have formed about a humble cobbler who lived in an unwholesome part of the city. Colbeck did not sense any deep love for the dead man but his wife was showing a loyalty towards him that verged on the combative.

'How long were you married, Mrs Bransby?' he asked.

'Twenty-eight years.'

'And you have a son, you say?'

'Yes. His name is Michael.'

'Any other children?'

'No, Inspector,' she replied, crisply. 'The Lord only saw fit to allow us one son and we would never question His wisdom.' After glancing down wistfully at the gold watch, she turned back to Colbeck. 'Do you have any idea who did this terrible thing to Jake?'

'Not at the moment. I was hoping that you might be able to help.'

'Me?'

'You knew your husband better than anybody, Mrs Bransby. Did he have any particular enemies?'

'Jake was a good man, Inspector. He was a true believer.'

'I don't doubt that,' said Colbeck, 'but the fact remains that someone had a reason to kill him. This was no random act of murder. Mr Bransby was carefully singled out. Can you think of anyone who might have had a grudge against him?'

'No, Inspector,' she replied, avoiding his gaze.

'Are you quite certain?' he pressed.

'Yes.'

'Did he have arguments with anyone? Or a feud with a rival cobbler, perhaps? To take a man's life like that requires a very strong motive. Who might have had that motive, Mrs Bransby?'

'How would I know?' she said, rising to her feet as if flustered. 'Excuse me, Inspector, this terrible news changes everything. I've a lot of thinking to do. If you don't mind, I'd like to be left alone now.'

'Of course,' he agreed, getting up immediately, 'but there is one request that I have to make of you, I fear.'

'What's that?'

'The body will need to be formally identified.'

'But you know that it was Jake. You found those things on him.'

'All the same, we do need confirmation from a family member.'

'I want to remember my husband as he was,' she said. 'I'd hate to see him.' Her voice trailed off and there