'We came back to London last night.'
Tallis was astounded. 'Are you telling me that the murder was solved in the space of two days?'
'Alas, no,' said Colbeck, rising to his feet, 'but the investigation has reached the stage where our presence is no longer required in Liverpool. To be honest, I'm heartily relieved. It's an unlovely place and Victor Leeming was missing his wife badly.'
'Wives do not exist in the Detective Department,' said Tallis, acidly. 'Duty always comes before any trifling marital arrangements. Leeming knows that. He should have been ready to stay in Liverpool for a month, if called upon to do so.'
'That necessity did not arise, Superintendent.'
'I expected the pair of you to spend more than one night there.'
'So did I, sir,' said Colbeck, 'but events took an interesting turn. You'll find a full explanation in the report I left on your desk earlier on. I also took the liberty of opening a window in your office. When I got here, the stench of cigar smoke had still not dispersed from the room.'
'It's not a stench, man – it's a pleasing aroma.'
'Only to those who create it.'
Tallis glowered at him before stalking off to his office. Colbeck sat down again to finish the last paragraph then he put his pen aside. After blotting the wet ink, he picked up the pages and put them in the right order. When he took the report into the superintendent's office, Tallis was reading about the murder inquiry. Colbeck waited until his superior had finished. The older man nodded.
'Admirably thorough,' he conceded.
'Thank you, sir.'
'Though I'm not sure that it's altogether wise to accept the testimony of an artist at face value. In my experience, they're rather shifty fellows whose imagination tends to get the better of them.'
'I put my trust in Ambrose Hooper unreservedly. Those three witnesses on the barge confirmed everything that was in the painting.'
'Thieves and an artist.' Tallis sucked his teeth. 'Such men are hardly reliable.'
'It was only one member of the Triggs family who kept hold of property that did not belong to him, and he is not what anyone would describe as a thief. Samuel Triggs simply seized an opportunity.'
'That's what villains do,' said Tallis, crisply. 'This fellow stole a jacket and a pair of shoes, thereby impeding the investigation. I trust that you arrested him on the spot.'
'I left that to Constable Praine.'
'You mentioned him in your report.'
'A good policeman, sir – strong, quick-thinking and obedient. I told Inspector Heyford that I would be happy to see Praine in the ranks of the Metropolitan Police. It made the inspector look at the man through new eyes.'
What he did not tell the superintendent was that he had also been able to oil the wheels of Walter Praine's romance. Faced with the threat of losing him, Sidney Heyford had been at his most proprietary, offering all manner of blandishments for the constable to stay. At long last, Praine had been able to broach the sensitive subject of marriage to the inspector's daughter.
'I see that you resorted to the press again,' noted Tallis.
'Yes,' said Colbeck. 'I put the same advertisement in Liverpool and Manchester papers even though the victim is not a local man.'
'How do you know that?'
'Someone would have reported him missing by now, sir. There are not all that many young Frenchmen living in that part of the country, even fewer with this man's income and taste in clothes. We must remember that he was travelling in a first class carriage. Most people on that train settled for second or third.'
Tallis wrinkled his nose. 'I could never lower myself to either.'
'My hope is that our man was visiting someone in Liverpool without warning. Though he had no face, the description of him is very detailed. If he has friends there, he'll be recognised.'
'He could just have been on his way to the docks.'
'Why?'
'To sail home to France, of course.'
'From Liverpool?' said Colbeck. 'I doubt that, sir. He'd choose one of the Channel ports. No, he had another reason for visiting the place and we need to discover what it was.'
'Why didn't you stay there until someone came forward in answer to your request in the newspapers?'
'Because it might take days and I had no intention of sitting there and twiddling my thumbs. We did not exactly have the most cordial welcome from the local police. They felt – quite rightly – that we were treading on their toes.'
'Supposing that nobody responds to your plea?'
'Oh, I'm fairly certain that someone will, Superintendent.'
'What makes you so confident?'
'A reward was offered,' said Colbeck. 'The railway company is anxious for the crime to be solved as soon as possible. They want to assure their passengers that this is an isolated incident. That's only possible if we catch the killer.'
'Quite so.'
'As long as the man is at large, people will fear that he's likely to strike again even though that possibility is remote.'
'Is it?'
'I believe so. Look at the facts. This murder is unique. It was committed in a particular way and at a particular point on the line. It was at a particular time of day as well – when the express train was running. All of the others stop at the Sankey Viaduct though, rather confusingly, that station was renamed Warrington Junction in 1831. Victor and I changed trains there to get to the canal basin.'
'What this does not explain,' said Tallis, tapping the report in front of him, 'is how the killer came to be sharing the carriage alone with his intended victim.'
'There are two possible answers to that, sir.'
'I fail to see them.'
'They could have been known to each other and travelled as friends. That would have meant that the victim was caught off guard.'
'And the second possibility?'
'That's the more likely one,' said Colbeck. 'The carriage may have been first class but other passengers might have wished to choose it. Had they done so, of course, the murderer would have been foiled. Once his victim had entered the carriage, he had to ensure nobody else did.'
'How could he do that?'
'By posing as someone in authority and turning people away.'
'You mean that he pretended to be a railway employee?'
'No, sir. He was wearing a uniform that would deter other passengers while at the same time reassuring the victim when he joined him in the carriage at the time of departure.'
Tallis was furious. 'Only one uniform would do that.'
'Exactly,' said Colbeck. 'The killer was dressed as a policeman.'
Much as he loved his daughter, there were times when Caleb Andrews found her profoundly exasperating. For the third time in a row, Madeleine had beaten him at draughts, a game in which he had once considered himself invincible. The previous evening, she had trounced him at dominoes. Andrews was not a man who suffered defeat with good grace. He began to wish that he had never taught her how to play the games. It was humiliating for him to lose to a woman.
'Another game?' she suggested.
'No, no, Maddy. I've had enough.'
'Your luck may change.'
'It's not a question of luck,' he said, gathering up the counters and putting them back in their box. 'Draughts is a game of skill. You have to be able to out-think your opponent.'
