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Authors: Edward Marston

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BOOK: The Railway Viaduct
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Victor Leeming was thoroughly delighted when Colbeck called on him that morning. Simply seeing the inspector again was a tonic to him. Time had been hanging with undue heaviness on his hands and he desperately missed being involved in the murder investigation. He felt that he was letting the inspector down. They sat down together in the cramped living room of Leeming’s house. He listened attentively to the recitation of events that had taken place in France, only interrupting when a certain name was mentioned.

‘Brendan Mulryne?’

‘Yes, Victor.’

‘There was no reference to him in the newspapers.’

‘Mr Tallis made sure of that,’ said Colbeck. ‘He refused to give any public acknowledgement to Brendan because he felt that it would demean us if we admitted any reliance on people like him. As it happens, I would have kept his name secret for another reason.’

‘What’s that, Inspector?’

‘I may want to employ him again. If his name and description are plastered all over the newspapers, it would make that difficult. He needs to be kept anonymous.’

‘I’m not sure that I’d have used him at all,’ admitted Leeming.

‘That’s why I didn’t discuss the matter with you.’

‘I like Mulryne – he’s good company – but I’d never trust him with anything important. He’s likely to go off the rails.’

Colbeck smiled. ‘In this case,’ he pointed out, ‘he did the exact opposite. Instead of going off the rails, he kept Mr Brassey on them. Largely because of what Brendan did, the railway can still be built.’

‘Then I congratulate him.’

‘You have a reason to thank him as well, Victor.’

‘Do I?’

‘One of the men who gave you the beating was Pierce Shannon.’

‘I’m not surprised to hear it. He was a sly character.’

‘Brendan laid him out cold on your behalf.’

‘I wish I’d been there to do it myself,’ said Leeming, grimly.

‘The other man who attacked you was Liam Kilfoyle.’

‘Liam? And I thought he was a friend of mine!’

‘Not any more,’ said Colbeck. ‘I had the pleasure of exchanging a few blows with Mr Kilfoyle. I let him know what I felt about people who assaulted my sergeant.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

Colbeck told him about the capture of the villains and how they had been handed over to the French police the next day. Thomas Brassey and Aubrey Filton had been overwhelmed with gratitude. The second visit to France had been eventful.
Colbeck felt satisfied.

‘So that part of the investigation is now concluded,’ he said.

‘What comes next?’

‘The small matter of tracking down the killer.’

‘Do you have any clues, Inspector?’

‘Yes, Victor. One of them came from the most unexpected source, but that’s often the way with police work. And I’m a great believer in serendipity.’

Leeming was honest. ‘So would I be, if I knew what it meant.’

‘Picking up a good thing where you find it.’

‘Ah, I see. A bit like beachcombing.’

‘Not really,’ said Colbeck. ‘Beachcombing implies that you deliberately go in search of something. Serendipity depends entirely on chance. You might not even be looking for a particular clue until you stumble upon it in the most unlikely place.’

‘Serendipity. I’ll remember that word. It will impress Estelle.’

‘How is your wife?’

‘She’s been a tower of strength, sir.’

‘Happy to have you at home so much, I should imagine.’

‘Yes and no,’ said Leeming, sucking in air through his teeth. ‘Estelle is happy to have me here but not when I’m convalescing. She’d like more of a husband and a bit less of a patient.’

‘You seem to be recovering well.’

Leeming’s facial scars had almost disappeared now and the heavy bruising on his body had also faded. What remained were the cracked ribs that occasionally reminded him that
they were there by causing a spasm of pain. He refused to give in to his injuries.

‘I’m as fit as a fiddle, sir,’ he said, cheerily. ‘But for the doctor, I’d be back at work right now.’

‘Doctors usually know best.’

‘It’s so boring and wasteful, sitting at home here.’

‘Do you get out at all?’

‘Every day, Inspector. I have a long walk and I sometimes take the children to the park. I can get about quite easily.’

‘That’s good news. We look forward to having you back.’

‘I can’t wait,’ said Leeming. ‘Much as I love Estelle and the children, I do hate being unemployed. It feels wrong somehow. I’m not a man who can rest, sir. I like action.’

‘You had rather too much of it in France.’

‘I like to think that I helped.’

‘You did, Victor,’ said Colbeck. ‘You did indeed.’

‘Mind you, I couldn’t make a living as a navvy. A week of that kind of work would have finished me off. They earn their money.’

‘Unfortunately, some of them tried to earn it by other means.’

‘Yes,’ said the other with feeling. ‘Shannon and his friends were too greedy. They wanted more than Mr Brassey could ever pay them. Pierce Shannon always had an ambitious streak. It’s a pity you got so little out of him when you questioned him.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘He couldn’t even tell you the name of the man who paid him.’

‘Oh, I think that he gave us a lot more information than he realised,’ said Colbeck. ‘To begin with, we now know how he
and his paymaster first met.’

‘In a police cell.’

‘What does that tell you?’

‘Nothing that I couldn’t have guessed about Shannon, sir. He got involved in a brawl and was arrested for disturbing the peace. Men like that always get into trouble when they’ve had a few drinks.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’m bound to point out that the same thing happened to Brendan Mulryne after he’d left the police force.’

‘He might not be the only policeman that we lost.’

‘I don’t think that Shannon was ever in uniform, sir.’

‘What about the man who employed him?’

‘We know nothing whatsoever about the fellow.’

‘Yes, we do,’ said Colbeck. ‘We know that he’s able to talk to someone in a police cell, which means that he’s either a lawyer, a policeman or someone who used to be involved in law enforcement. I’d hazard a guess that he has friends in the police force, or he’d not have been given such easy access to a prisoner. Also, of course, we do have his Christian name.’

‘Luke.’

‘You can find out the rest when you get there.’

‘Where?’

‘To the station where Pierce Shannon was detained.’

Leeming was taken aback. ‘You want
me
to do that, sir?’

‘You enjoy a long walk, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you’re chafing at the bit while you’re sitting here.’

‘I am, Inspector – that’s the plain truth.’

‘Then you can return to light duties immediately.’ His grin was conspiratorial. ‘Provided that you don’t mention the fact to Mr Tallis, that is. He might not understand. He has a
preference for making all operational decisions himself.’

‘I won’t breathe a single word to him.’

‘Not even serendipity?’

‘I’m saving that one for my wife.’

‘Does that mean you’re willing to help us, Victor?’

Leeming struggled to his feet. ‘I’m on my way, sir.’

 

They noticed the difference at once. It was as if a threatening black cloud that had been hanging over the site had suddenly dispersed to let bright sunshine through. In fact, it was raining that morning but nothing could dampen their spirits or that of the navvies. Hectic activity was continuing apace. They were now certain to complete the stipulated amount of work on the railway by the end of the month. The sudden and dramatic improvement made Aubrey Filton blossom into an unaccustomed smile.

‘This is how it should be, Mr Brassey,’ he said. ‘Now that we’ve got rid of the rotten apples from the barrel, we can surge ahead.’

‘Word spread quickly. When they heard about the arrests, the men were as relieved as we were. And you can’t blame them,’ said Brassey, reasonably. ‘If work had ground to a halt here, I’d have been in danger of losing the contract. Thousands of them would have been thrown out of work. Their livelihoods have been saved.’

‘And your reputation has been vindicated.’

‘I care more about them than about me, Aubrey.’

‘You treat them like members of a huge family.’

‘That’s exactly what they are.’

They were at the window, gazing out at sodden navvies who laboured away as if impervious to rain. There was a new
spirit about the way everyone was working. It was almost as if the many wanted to atone for the dire shortcomings of the few by demonstrating their commitment to the project. Eamonn Slattery had noticed it. The priest was standing between the two men.

‘Look at them,’ he said with pride. ‘There’s not a navvy alive who can match an Irishman when it comes to hard physical work. The Potato Famine nearly crippled our beloved country but it was a blessing to someone like you, Mr Brassey.’

‘I agree, Father Slattery,’ conceded the other. ‘A lot of the men here emigrated from Ireland. I was glad to take them on. What’s the feeling among them now?’

‘Oh, they reacted with a mixture of thanks and outrage.’

‘Inspector Colbeck deserves most of the thanks.’

‘So I hear,’ said Slattery with a cackle. ‘And there was me, thinking that dandy was working for the Minister of Public Works. He took me in completely but, then, so did Brendan Mulryne.’

‘He’s the real hero here,’ opined Filton.

‘The others will miss him. He made himself very popular. Well, there’s one good thing to come out of all this.’

‘And what’s that, Father?’

‘I can count on a decent congregation on Sunday,’ explained the priest with a grin. ‘It’s strange how adversity turns a man’s mind to religion. They know how close they came to losing their jobs. A lot of them will get down on their knees to send up a prayer of thanks. I’ll make the most of it and preach a sermon that will sing in their ears for a week. By next Sunday,’ he added, philosophically, ‘most of them won’t come anywhere near the service.’

‘Were you surprised to find out who was trying to disrupt
the railway?’ asked Brassey.

‘I’d always suspected that Shannon might have something to do with it. He was the type. Kilfoyle disappointed me. I thought that Liam would have more sense.’

‘What about the other two men?’

‘Dowd and Murphy? Weak characters. Easily lead.’

‘They’ll get no mercy in court,’ predicted Brassey. ‘This railway has the backing of Louis Napoleon and his government. Anyone who tries to bring it to a halt will be hit with the full weight of the law.’

‘The whole sad business is finally over,’ said Slattery. ‘I think that we ought to console ourselves with that thought.’

‘But it isn’t over yet.’

‘No,’ said Filton. ‘The murder of Gaston Chabal has still to be solved. What happened here was entangled with that, Father Slattery.’

‘How?’

‘The only person who knows that is Inspector Colbeck.’

‘Does he know the name of the killer?’

‘He will do before long.’

‘You sound very confident of that, Mr Filton.’

‘He’s an astonishing man.’

‘It was an education to see him at work,’ said Brassey. ‘In his own way, Inspector Colbeck reminded me of Gaston. Both share the same passion for detail. They are utterly meticulous. That’s why I know that he’ll apprehend the killer in due course, Father Slattery.’

‘More power to his elbow!’

‘The inspector is tireless,’ said Filton.

‘Yes,’ confirmed Brassey. ‘His energy is remarkable. Even as we speak, the hunt is continuing with a vengeance.’

 

Robert Colbeck did not like him. The moment he set eyes on Gerald Kane, he felt an instant aversion. Kane was a short, neat, vain, conservatively dressed, fussy man in his forties, with long brown hair and a thick moustache. His deep-set eyes peered at the newcomer through wire-framed spectacles. His manner was officious and unwelcoming. Even after he had introduced himself, Colbeck was viewed with a mingled suspicion and distaste.

‘Why are you bothering me, Inspector?’ asked Kane, huffily. ‘As far as I’m aware, we have broken no laws.’

‘None at all, sir.’

‘Then I’ll ask you to be brief. I’m a busy man.’

‘So am I.’

‘In that case, we’ll both profit from brevity.’

‘This cannot be rushed, Mr Kane,’ warned Colbeck.

‘It will have to be, sir. I have a meeting.’

‘Postpone it – for his sake.’

‘Whom are you talking about?’

‘Gaston Chabal.’

Gerald Kane raised his eyebrows in surprise, but the name did not encourage him to adopt a more friendly tone. He simply treated his visitor to a hostile stare across his desk. They were in his office, a place that was as cold, ordered and impeccably clean as the man himself. Everything on the leather top of the desk was in a tidy pile. All the pictures on the walls had been hung at identical heights. Kane was the secretary of the Society of Civil and Mechanical Engineers and he seemed to look upon his post as a major office of state. He sounded an almost imperious note.

‘What about him, Inspector?’ he said.

‘I believe that you wrote to him, sir.’

‘I don’t see why that should concern you. Any correspondence in which I am engaged is highly confidential.’

‘Not when one of the recipients of your letters is murdered.’

‘I’m well aware of what happened to Chabal,’ said Kane without the slightest gesture towards sympathy. ‘It’s caused me no little inconvenience.’

‘He did not get himself killed in order to inconvenience you,’ said Colbeck, sharply. ‘Since you wrote to invite him to lecture here, you might show some interest in helping to solve the crime.’

‘That is your job, Inspector. Leave me to do mine.’

‘I will, sir – when I have finished.’

Kane looked at his watch. ‘And when, pray, will that be?’

‘When I tell you, sir.’

‘You cannot keep me here against my will.’

‘I quite agree,’ said Colbeck, moving to the door. ‘This is not the best place for an interview. Perhaps you’d be so good as to accompany me to Scotland Yard where we can talk at more leisure.’

BOOK: The Railway Viaduct
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