'I just play it for the pleasure.'
Andrews grimaced. It was even more annoying to be beaten by someone who did not take the game seriously. For him, it was a real contest; for Madeleine, it was simply fun. Seeing that he was so discomfited, she got up, kissed him on the forehead and went into the kitchen to make a pot of tea. They were in the little house that they shared in Camden. Andrews was a short, wiry man in his fifties with a fringe beard dappled with grey. There was a suppressed energy about him that belied his age. Since the death of his wife six years earlier, his daughter had looked after him with a mixture of kindness, cajolery and uncompromising firmness.
When the tea had been brewed, Madeleine brought the pot into the living room and set it down on the table with a cosy on it. Now in her twenties, she had inherited her mother's good looks and had the same auburn hair, but Madeleine Andrews possessed an assurance that was all her own. As her father had learned to his cost, she also had a quick brain. To stave off the pangs of defeat, he tried to lose himself in his newspaper. One item of news immediately caught his jaundiced eye.
'He should have consulted me,' he said.
'Who?'
'Inspector Colbeck. I work for that railway company. I know every inch of our track.'
'Yes, Father,' she agreed, 'but you're only an engine driver.'
'So?'
'You're not a detective like Robert.'
'I could have helped. I could have made suggestions.'
'I'm sure that he appreciates that,' said Madeleine, tactfully, 'but he had to act quickly. As soon as word of the crime reached him, Robert went straight off to Liverpool. He had no time to contact you.'
'Is that what he told you?'
'More or less.'
It was a white lie to appease her father. Caleb Andrews had been the driver of the mail train that was robbed in the previous year and he had been badly injured in the process. Since he was leading the investigation, Colbeck had got to know both Andrews and his daughter well. A warm friendship had soon developed between the detective and Madeleine and it had matured into something far more. Andrews liked to pretend that Colbeck called at the house to increase his knowledge of the railway system by discussing it with a man who had spent his working life on it. But he knew that it was his daughter who brought the detective to Camden.
'When are you likely to see him again, Maddy?' he asked.
'Soon, I hope.'
'Make a point of telling him about my offer.'
'Robert will be very grateful to hear of it,' she said, fetching two cups and saucers from the dresser. 'At the moment, I'm afraid, he's extremely busy.'
'Not according to this.' Andrews peered at the newspaper. 'It's been five days since the murder took place and they've got nowhere. Inspector Colbeck is making another appeal for someone to help the police by identifying the victim. He was a Frenchman,' he added with a loud sniff. 'Fifty years ago, we'd have cheered anyone who killed a Froggy. Now, we arrest them – if we can find them, that is.'
'Robert will find him in due course,' she said, loyally.
'Meanwhile, he's just sitting on his hands.'
'He'd never do that, Father. While he's waiting for information to come in, he'll be helping to solve crimes here in London. Robert never rests. He works terribly hard.'
'So do I,' boasted Andrews. 'Hard and long. I've been at it for over forty years, man and boy. I could have told Inspector Colbeck exactly what it's like to take a train over the Sankey Viaduct because I've done it. He should have come to me, Maddy.'
'I'll tell him that,' she soothed, removing the tea cosy and lifting up the pot. 'When Robert has a moment to spare.'
Nobody was allowed to rest at Scotland Yard. Superintendent Tallis made sure of that. He kept a watchful eye on what his detectives were doing and cracked the whip over any he felt were slacking. There was never any cause to upbraid Robert Colbeck. He was intensely busy. While awaiting further developments in the murder case, he was reviewing the evidence on a daily basis, giving instructions by letter to Inspector Heyford, deploying his men on other cases, attending meetings within the Detective Department and acting as a legal consultant to his colleagues.
Unlike the majority of those at Scotland Yard, he had not worked his way up through the Metropolitan Police. Colbeck had trained as a barrister and been a familiar figure in the London courts. The murder of someone very dear to him had affected him deeply and made him question the efficacy of what he was doing. He felt that he could make a far better contribution to law enforcement by catching criminals than simply by securing their convictions in court. Fellow detectives made great use of his legal knowledge but Tallis merely envied it. Colbeck's career as a barrister was one more reason why there was so much latent hostility between the two men.
That afternoon began badly. The superintendent's patience was wearing out. After a bruising interview with him – 'You are supposed to be the Railway Detective – prove it!' – Colbeck returned to his office and began to go painstakingly through all the evidence yet again, hoping that there was some hitherto unnoticed detail that might help to illumine the whole investigation. He was so absorbed in his work that he did not hear Victor Leeming enter the room.
'Excuse me, sir,' said the sergeant. 'You have a visitor.'
'Oh.' Colbeck glanced up. 'Thank you, Victor. Show him in.'
'It's a lady and a very handsome one at that.'
'Did she say what her business was?'
'No, sir. The only person she wishes to see is you.'
Colbeck got to his feet. 'Then you'd better bring her in.'
Moments later, a tall, stately woman in her thirties came into the office and waited until the door had been closed behind her before she yielded up her name.
'Inspector Colbeck?'
'That's correct.'
'My name is Hannah Critchlow,' she said, 'and I've come in response to the request you inserted in the Liverpool Times.'
He was curious. 'You've come all the way from Liverpool?'
'This is not something I wished to discuss with the local police. I had other reasons for being in London, so I decided to speak directly to you. I hope that I can rely on your discretion.'
'Completely,' he said. 'Do sit down, Mrs Critchlow.'
'Miss Critchlow,' she corrected.
'I beg your pardon.'
Hannah Critchlow lowered herself into a chair and he resumed his seat behind the desk. Colbeck was surprised to hear that she was unmarried. She had a sculptured beauty that was enhanced by her costly attire. She also had a distinct poise about her and would never go through life unnoticed by members of the opposite sex. Without being told, he knew that she had travelled by train to London in a first class carriage. Colbeck felt a quiet excitement. Given the trouble she had taken to see him, he believed that she would have something of value to impart.
'Before we go any further,' she said, 'there is one thing that I must make clear. I am not here in search of any reward.'
'But if you can provide information that will lead to the arrest of the murderer, the railway company will be very grateful to you.'
'I don't want their gratitude.'
'What do you want, Miss Critchlow?'
'The satisfaction of knowing that this villain is caught. From the reports in the newspaper, it seems to have been an appalling crime. The culprit should not be allowed to get away with it.'
'He won't,' said Colbeck, levelly. 'I can assure you of that.'
'Good.'
