CHAPTER EIGHT
Facing the superintendent on his own when he had little progress to report was something that Victor Leeming chose to evade, preferring to have Robert Colbeck at his side during the ordeal. Instead of going straight to Scotland Yard that evening, therefore, he lurked in the Lamb and Flag, the public house nearby, and enjoyed a pint of beer while standing at the window. He had almost finished his drink when he saw Colbeck arrive by cab. Downing the last mouthful in one gulp, he put the tankard aside and rushed out. Colbeck saw him coming and waited at the door.
‘Good evening, Victor,’ he said, understanding very well where the sergeant had been. ‘I’m glad that we have a chance to compare notes before we see Mr Tallis. Did you have any luck?’
‘None at all,’ replied Leeming. ‘Except that I managed to dodge the urchins in Seven Dials who thought it would be a joke to knock off my top hat.’
‘Let’s go inside.’
In the privacy of Colbeck’s office, they exchanged details of how each had spent the day. Leeming was envious. Colbeck appeared to have gathered useful evidence whereas the sergeant’s efforts had been more or less futile. Apart from being hounded by ragamuffins in the rookeries, he had had to endure an indecent proposal from the daunting Josie Murlow.
‘I went to all four of Chiffney’s favourite taverns,’ he said, morosely, ‘but there was no sign of him.’
‘Was he well-known to the landlords?’
‘Oh, yes – they all had Dick Chiffney stories to tell. Most were about fights he’d started or times when he drank himself into oblivion and had to be carried home. He and Josie Murlow have a reputation.’
‘She sounds like a potent lady,’ said Colbeck.
‘Overwhelming is the word I’d use, sir.’
Having discussed their respective reports, they went down the corridor to the superintendent’s office. From the other side of the door, they heard the raised voice of Edward Tallis as he berated one of his officers for failure to solve a crime. A minute later, the man came out, shooting a baleful glance at Colbeck and Leeming as he did so. Tallis, apparently, was even more hot-tempered than usual. After tapping on the door, Colbeck led the way in.
‘Is this a convenient time to speak, sir?’ he enquired, politely.
‘I expected you hours ago,’ growled Tallis.
‘Victor and I were unavoidably delayed.’
‘Well, I hope you have more to show for your efforts than Sergeant Nelson. I’ve just threatened him with demotion if he doesn’t improve markedly.’ He pointed to the chairs and they sat down. ‘I hope I don’t have to issue the same threat to you.’ Leeming squirmed but Colbeck responded with a confident smile. ‘Let’s hear from you first, Inspector.’
Colbeck was succinct. He talked about his visit to Brighton, recounting his conversations with Giles Thornhill, Ezra Follis and some of the survivors at the hospital. He omitted any reference to the Royal Pavilion. Without divulging the name of Caleb Andrews, he said that he had information from Fireman Heddle that two people had been seen watching trains go by near the spot where the crash later occurred. Colbeck felt that the use of the telescope was significant.
‘If they were simply looking at trains,’ he argued, ‘they did not need it at all. The telescope was used to check up and down the line to make sure that there would be no witnesses if anyone levered part of the rail away. They chose that specific place with care. There are no farmhouses or cottages nearby.’
Throughout the report, Tallis made no comment. He sat there in silence, smouldering quietly like a cigar in an ashtray. When Colbeck had finished, the superintendent blazed into life.
‘Why did you waste time talking to the Rector of St Dunstan’s?’ he said, acidly. ‘The fellow is no help to us at all.’
‘I believe that he was, sir,’ argued Colbeck. ‘Mr Follis is an excellent judge of character. More to the point, he survived the train crash and was able to describe exactly how the collision felt.’
‘That has no relevance to the pursuit of the malefactor.’
‘Malefactors,’ corrected Leeming. ‘There were two of them, sir.’
‘Be quiet, man!’
‘According to Fireman Heddle…’
‘Don’t you recognise an order when you hear one?’ demanded Tallis, interrupting him. ‘The sight of two men looking at trains on the Brighton line is not, in my view, conclusive evidence that they are anything to do with the disaster. For all we know, they may even have been railway employees, surveying the line.’
‘With respect, sir,’ said Colbeck, ‘John Heddle has seen enough surveyors in his time to be able to identify one. He thought their presence was odd. Driver Pike felt the same because he told his wife that someone had been watching the trains.’
‘Come to the crux of your evidence, Inspector. Are you still firmly of the belief that the accident was caused to kill a particular individual on board?’
‘I am, superintendent.’
‘Then the choice would seem to be between Horace Bardwell and Giles Thornhill. Which one would you select?’
‘Mr Bardwell.’
‘Yet it’s Mr Thornhill who has been receiving death threats.’
‘They could relate to his political activities,’ said Colbeck. ‘He’s supported many unpopular causes in Parliament and is leading the fight for a Sunday Trading Bill. It would mean the closure of all shops and public houses on the Sabbath.’
‘That would be cruel!’ protested Leeming.
‘It’s eminently sensible and long overdue,’ said Tallis.
‘But if people work hard for six days a week, sir, surely they’re entitled to the pleasure of a drink on Sunday.’
‘Strong drink leads to drunkenness and that, in turn, leads to crime. It would greatly relieve the pressure on our police if there was one day when they did not have to deal with violent affrays in public houses or people in the streets being drunk and disorderly. But there’s an even stronger reason why the Sunday Trading Bill should be passed,’ continued Tallis, sounding a reverential note. ‘It shows respect for the Lord’s Day and for people’s spiritual needs.’
‘I still think it will cause a great deal trouble if it’s ever put forward,’ said Leeming. ‘It might even lead to a riot.’
‘The point is,’ observed Colbeck, rescuing the sergeant from Tallis’s stony glare, ‘that the Bill is highly controversial. It will stir up a lot of opposition, as other legislation sponsored by Mr Thornhill has done. I fancy that he’s being menaced by a political enemy. Mr Bardwell, on the other hand, embodies the LB&SCR in several ways. That’s a salient point in my opinion. As far as I know, Mr Thornhill has no connection with the railway company.’
‘Then you are not as well-informed as you should be,’ said Tallis, savouring the opportunity to embarrass Colbeck for once. ‘While you and the sergeant went gallivanting off today, I did not sit idly here. I took it upon myself to call on the London office of the LB&SCR and I made an interesting discovery.’
‘What was that, sir?’ asked Colbeck.
‘Searching through the list of their major shareholders, I came across the name of Giles Thornhill. He has a large financial stake in the company. You should have found that out, Inspector.’
‘I agree, sir, and I’m grateful that you did so on my behalf.’
‘It tips the balance of probability in favour of Mr Thornhill. If, that is,’ added Tallis with beetle-browed scepticism, ‘your theory about the crime is correct.’
‘Do you have an alternative theory, Superintendent?’
‘No, but Captain Ridgeon certainly does. He called here today.’
‘I daresay that he wanted to complain about me,’ said Colbeck.
‘You upset him, Inspector, and I fear that I upset him even more by supporting you to the hilt.’ He leant forward across his desk. ‘I hope you won’t make me regret that support.’