Edward Tallis thrust the cigar between his teeth. He was loath to send Colbeck abroad on what he believed might be an expensive and unproductive visit. At the same time, he could appreciate the logic of the inspector's argument. Unless the crime was solved, the railway company would keep hounding him. Worse, in his view, was the intensive scrutiny of the press. Newspapers were very willing to trumpet any success the Detective Department achieved but they were equally ready to condemn any failures. Having christened Colbeck as the Railway Detective, they would have no qualms about finding a more derisive nickname for him.
'How long would you be away?' growled Tallis.
'Impossible to say, sir, but we'd be as quick as possible.'
'Would you take Sergeant Leeming with you?'
'With your permission.'
'It's his wife's permission you need to seek, by the sound of it.'
'Victor will do what he's told,' said Colbeck. 'While I'm talking to Mr Brassey, he can question some of the men who work for him.'
Tallis was astounded. 'Are you telling me that the sergeant speaks French?'
'No, sir, and nor will he need to. For a number of reasons, Mr Brassey prefers to employ men from this country. When he built the Paris to Rouen railway, he took five thousand navvies, miners, carpenters, smiths, brick-makers, bricklayers and other tradesmen with him. He had his own private army.'
'That's what you need over there – for protection.'
'Hostilities with France ceased many years ago, sir.'
'Some of us have long memories.' Tallis chewed on his cigar and regarded Colbeck from under bushy eyebrows. 'How do you come to know so much about Thomas Brassey?'
'I read a number of railway periodicals, sir.'
'What manner of man is he?'
'A very successful one,' said Colbeck. 'He's a good businessman and a caring employer. That's why his men are so loyal to him. He also has the courage to admit his mistakes.'
'Mistakes?'
'Even the best contractors go astray at times, Superintendent. Six years ago, Mr Brassey built the Barentin Viaduct about twelve miles from Rouen.'
'Don't mention viaducts to me, Inspector.'
'This was a massive construction, much higher and longer than the one over the Sankey Valley. There was only one problem with it.'
'And what was that?'
'After a period of heavy rain, it collapsed in ruins. Some people would have invented all manner of spurious excuses, but not Thomas Brassey. His reputation as a contractor was in serious danger. So he admitted liability and at his own cost – some?30,000 – he had the viaduct rebuilt.'
'Did it stay up this time?'
'Oh, yes,' replied Colbeck. 'I've been over it. I think it's one of the most inspiring sights on the French railways. And because it was rebuilt in a mere six months, it meant that he completed the whole project well ahead of schedule, earning himself a bonus of?10,000.'
'The only viaduct that concerns me at the moment is the one from which that fellow was thrown. Why couldn't he have the decency to get himself killed in his native country?'
'I doubt if he was given any choice, Superintendent.'
'I agree,' said Tallis, becoming serious. 'A murder victim is a murder victim, whatever nationality he holds. We must bring his killer to book and do so with all speed.'
'Does that mean you sanction our visit to France?'
'I'll give it my consideration.'
'You just said that speed was essential, sir.'
'I'm treating it as a matter of urgency.'
'Shall I warn Victor that he may be going abroad?'
'Do not run ahead of yourself, Inspector. There are many things to take into account. Leave me alone while I mull them over.'
'Of course, Superintendent.'
The decision had been made. When Tallis stopped making protests about a course of action, it invariably meant that he would in time approve of it. Colbeck left the room with a feeling of triumph. After a period of inertia, the murder investigation had been given a new lease of life. He and Victor Leeming were going to France.
Thomas Brassey came out of the wooden hut that he used as an office and went off to see the damage for himself. He wore his habitual frock coat, waistcoat and check trousers and, although in his late forties, moved briskly across the ground. When he passed a group of navvies, he was given warm smiles or cheerful greetings, and coarser language was immediately suppressed within his earshot. Brassey was a true gentleman with an innate dignity. He lacked the rough and ready appearance of some self-made men and had none of their arrogance or assertive manner.
'When did you discover it?' he asked.
'This afternoon,' replied Aubrey Filton. 'We'd suspended work on the tunnel until fresh materials arrived, but, in view of what's happened, I thought that I'd carry out an inspection.'
'Very sensible of you.'
'This is what I found, sir.'
Filton led the way down the embankment to the mouth of the tunnel. As it was dark inside, he picked up a lantern that was already burning. Brassey followed him into the long cavern. Halfway along it, the contractor expected to see two sets of parallel rails, laid across timber sleepers and bolted tight, the whole track resting on ballast. Instead, he was looking at a confused mass of wood, iron and rock chippings. Rails and sleepers had been levered out of position. The fishplates and bolts that held one length of rail against the end of another had been either broken or twisted out of shape.
'This was done on purpose, Mr Brassey,' said Filton.
'I can see that. Was nobody guarding the tunnel last night?'
'They claim that they were but my guess is that they either fell asleep or were paid to look the other way. This is the fourth incident in a row. Someone is trying to stop us building this railway.'
'Then they'll have to do a lot better than this,' said Brassey, assessing the cost of the damage. 'It's annoying but it won't hold us up for long. As soon as a fresh supply of rail arrives on site, we'll start work in the tunnel again. Meanwhile, we'll post more guards.'
'Yes, Mr Brassey.'
'Armed guards.'
'What are their orders?'
'I'll issue those directly.'
They walked back towards the mouth of the tunnel, stepping over the accumulated debris as they did so. Filton, one of the engineers working on the Mantes-Caen railway, was a tall, thin, nervous man in his thirties with a tendency to fear the worst. Brassey had a much more robust attitude to life. What his companion saw as a disaster, he dismissed as a minor setback. Sensing the other man's anxiety, he put a consoling arm around Filton's shoulders.
'Do not worry about it, Aubrey,' he said. 'If someone is trying to hinder us, we'll catch them sooner or later. The important thing is that these delays do not interfere with our overall schedule.'
'I hate the thought that we have enemies in our midst.'
'For every bad apple, we have a thousand good ones.'
'I wonder that you can shrug it off like this, sir,' said Filton.
'Oh, I'm not shrugging it off, I assure you. I take this very seriously – but I'll not let my anger show. I prefer to carry on as if nothing had occurred to halt our progress. I've signed a contract that has time limits on it. I intend to meet them.'
They walked on until they emerged into broad daylight. All around them, men of various trades were working hard. Brassey stopped to watch them. It was very hot and the navvies were dripping with sweat as they toiled
