the house himself.'
'How much does he charge?'
'Almost nothing.'
'That's good because I haven't got two bleeding pennies to rub together.' He became conspiratorial. 'Hey, I don't suppose that either of you know how I can pick up a little extra money, do you?'
'In what way?' asked Shannon.
'Any way at all, friend.'
'Such as?'
'On my last job, I made a tidy sum at cockfighting.'
'Nobody will want to fight a cock as big as yours,' said Kilfoyle with a giggle. 'And, if you're talking about the kind with feathers and sharp claws, then Mr Brassey won't allow that kind of thing on any of his sites.'
'What the eye doesn't see, the heart doesn't fucking grieve.'
'I couldn't have put it better,' said Shannon, warming to him at once. 'How else have you made money in the past, Brendan?'
'All sorts of ways. Best of all was prize-fighting.'
'Really?'
'Yes, I'd take on all-comers with one hand strapped behind my back. They not only paid for the chance to take a swing at me,' said Mulryne, 'I got my share of the bets that were laid as well.'
'Very crafty.'
'I've got a devil of a thirst, Pierce. That takes money.'
'Not here,' said Kilfoyle. 'The brandy's dirt cheap.'
'I know. I tried some on the way here. Anyway,' Mulryne went on, 'I'd best find O'Rourke so that I've got somewhere to lay my fucking head tonight. Then it's off to the nearest inn with me.'
'We'll take you there,' volunteered Shannon.
'Thank you, friend. I might hold you to that.' He caught sight of Father Slattery among the crowd and recoiled. 'Is that the bleeding priest they told me about?'
'That's him, large as life.'
'Then keep the bugger away from me.'
'Father Slattery is harmless enough,' said Kilfoyle.
'Not to me, Liam. There's a time and place for priests and this is not it. When I've worked my balls off all day,' asserted Mulryne, 'the last thing I want is a dose of religion. A good drink and a warm woman is all I need and Father Slattery looks as if he's never tasted either.'
Maria Brassey was an excellent hostess. She gave the guests a cordial welcome and served a delicious meal. When he spoke French by demand, Robert Colbeck discovered that she had an excellent grasp of the language. She was delightful company and presided over the table with her husband. After dinner, however, she knew exactly when to withdraw so that the men could talk in private.
'Have you had any success while I was away?' said Colbeck.
'A little,' replied Brassey. 'The nightwatchmen caught two men pilfering but they had nothing to do with all the damage we've suffered. I paid them what I owed and ordered them off the site.'
'That, of course, is another avenue we might explore.'
'What do you mean, Inspector?'
'Discontented former employees. Men with a grudge.'
'You'll not find many of those,' said Aubrey Filton, the other guest. 'Mr Brassey is renowned for his fairness. If the men step out of line, they know they'll be sacked. They accept that.'
'Most of them, perhaps,' said Colbeck. 'But I can see how it would rankle if someone was dismissed from a job that would guarantee two years' work for them.'
'We keep a record of every man we employ.'
'Then I'd like to take a close look at it, Mr Filton.'
The three men were comfortably ensconced in chairs in the living room of the country house that Brassey had rented. It was close enough to the site for him to get there with ease, yet far enough away to be out of reach of the incessant noise that was created. Having grown up on a farm, the contractor always preferred a house that was surrounded by green fields. It made him feel as if he were back in his native Cheshire. He sipped his glass of port.
'How is Sergeant Leeming?' he said.
'Very glad to be back home,' returned Colbeck. 'Victor took a beating but no permanent damage seems to have been done. He simply needs plenty of time to recover.'
'That sort of thing would put me off police work forever,' said Filton. 'It's far too dangerous.'
'Victor is not so easily deterred.'
'And what about this new fellow?'
'Oh,' said Colbeck with a smile, 'you can rely on him. If you set off an explosion under Brendan Mulryne, you'd not scare him away. He has nerves of steel.'
'Then why didn't you bring him here in the first place?' said Brassey. 'Was he assigned to another case?'
'Yes, sir.'
'He doesn't look like a detective at all.'
'He isn't one,' said Colbeck.
'I see. He's an ordinary constable.'
'There's nothing ordinary about Brendan, I promise you. He was trained as a policeman and I had the good fortune to work with him when I was in uniform. When you have to break up a tavern brawl, there's no better man to have beside you than him.'
'I can imagine.'
Colbeck did not reveal that the man he had entrusted with such an important task was, in fact, a dock labourer of dubious reputation who led the kind of chaotic existence that two conventional middle class gentlemen could not begin to understand. The less they knew about Brendan Mulryne, the better. At all events, Colbeck resolved, his name must not get back to Edward Tallis. If the superintendent became aware of the Irishman's presence on site, Colbeck would not have to write a letter of resignation. He would probably be ejected from Scotland Yard with Tallis's condemnation ringing in his ears.
'What interests me is the next stretch of line,' said Colbeck, draining his glass. 'The one that runs from Caen to Cherbourg.'
Brassey held up a palm. 'Give us a chance, Inspector,' he said, jocularly. 'We haven't finished this one yet.'
'And may never do so,' said Filton, gloomily.
'Of course we will, Aubrey.'
'I wonder, sir.'
'Will any French companies put in a tender for the other line?' asked Colbeck. 'Are any contractors here big enough to do so?'
'Yes,' replied Brassey. 'The French were slow starters when it came to railways but they are catching up quickly, and contractors have seen the opportunities that are there. When the time comes, I'm sure that we'll have a number of competitors.'
'What about labour? Are there enough navvies in France?'
'No, Inspector Colbeck, not really. Comparatively few railways have been built here so far. As a result, there's no pool of experienced men on which to draw. We found that out when we built the Paris to Rouen railway some years ago.'
'Yes, I believe that you imported 5,000 from England.'
'It was not nearly enough,' said Brassey. 'I had to cast the net much wider in order to double that number. They were mainly French but they also included Germans, Belgians, Italians, Dutchmen and Spaniards. Do you remember it, Aubrey?'
'Very well,' said Filton. 'You could hear eleven different languages in all. It was quite bewildering at times.'
