‘Well, that’s not what I did, Robert,’ she said, laughing.
‘What happened while I was away?’
‘We just talked. When the housekeeper came back from the market, she made us some tea and served scones. Then Mr Follis tried to probe me about our friendship.’
‘I thought he might.’
‘He was fascinated to hear how we met,’ she recalled, ‘and amused to discover that Father is an engine driver. The rector has an almost childish love of trains.’
‘I don’t condemn anyone for that,’ said Colbeck, grinning.
‘After tea, he asked me if I’d like to see the church. He was showing me around when he suddenly asked me to read something.’
‘Were you given freedom of choice?’
‘No, Robert,’ she replied. ‘He chose the passage for me. If it had been left to me, I’d have refused politely but I felt obliged to him. He’d been so friendly and courteous.’
‘Considering that you’d never been allowed to read in church before, you did extremely well.’
‘I was very nervous.’
‘It didn’t show, Madeleine.’
‘The odd thing was that Mr Follis knew exactly what he wanted me to read. It was almost as if he had made up his mind about it before we even went into the church.’ She gave a shrug. ‘Why do you think he picked that passage?’
Colbeck smiled. ‘I have a theory about that.’
Leeming was in a quandary. There was enough evidence to suggest that Dick Chiffney might have been involved in causing the train crash and it was important to question him. Since the man could well be inside the house, Leeming’s first instinct was to knock on the door and apprehend him. He was not afraid of any resistance from Chiffney. Leeming was strong, fit and fearless, very accustomed to overpowering criminals. What made him hesitate was the presence of Josie Murlow. If she became violent – and he was certain that she would – then the arrest would be more difficult. It would also entail restraining, if not actually punching, a woman and that troubled him.
He agonised for a long time over what he should do. In the event, the decision was made for him because the door of the hovel opened and the man came out. After wiping a hand across his mouth, he came back up the street. Lowering the paper, Leeming folded it up and stuffed it into his pocket. He then took a good look at the approaching figure. The fellow was certainly big and brawny enough to be Josie Murlow’s lover and he was around the same age as her. He had also been shown great affection on his arrival. It had to be Chiffney. He and his woman had been reconciled.
Careful not to forewarn the man, Leeming turned on his heel and lumbered off, moving slowly so that he would soon be overtaken. The moment that the man went past him, the sergeant pounced. He grabbed him by the shoulders, spun him round then held him by the lapels of his jacket.
‘What are you doing!’ protested the man.
‘Dick Chiffney?’
‘Let go of me!’
‘Are you Dick Chiffney?’ demanded Leeming.
‘No, I’m not,’ said the other, struggling to get away.
‘What’s your name?
‘That’s my business.’
‘I’m a member of the Metropolitan Police and I just saw you going into Josie Murlow’s house.’
‘No harm in that, is there?’
‘That depends on who you are.’
‘If you must know,’ said the man, exhaling beer fumes into Leeming’s face, ‘my name is Luke Watts and that’s the truth. You can ask anyone – ask Josie, if you like.’
Leeming released him. ‘Then you’re not Dick Chiffney?’
Watts was offended. ‘Do I look like him?’ he said. ‘Dick is the ugliest bugger in London. Don’t you dare take me for that cross-eyed son of a sow. It’s a bleeding insult, that’s what it is.’
‘I seem to have made a mistake, Mr Watts.’
‘Yes – a bad mistake.’
‘But if you’re not Chiffney,’ said Leeming with a glance at the hovel, ‘what were you doing in Josie Murlow’s house?’
The man smirked. ‘What do you think?’
Edward Tallis had never been hampered by indecision. When action was needed, he took it instantly. Hiring a cab outside Scotland Yard, he was driven to the offices of the LB&SCR. He was immediately shown into the room occupied by Harvey Ridgeon. The captain was nonplussed to see him storming through the door.
‘What brings you here, Superintendent?’ he asked.
‘This,’ replied Tallis, tossing a copy of the evening newspaper on to the desk. ‘It’s the early edition – have you read it?’
‘I can’t say that I have.’
‘It contains defamatory statements made by you about my officers. Worse than that, it brings a covert investigation into the full glare of publicity and thereby weakens its effectiveness.’
‘It was ineffective enough already.’
‘I demand an apology.’
‘You’ll get nothing at all if you try to hector me,’ said Ridgeon, coolly. ‘Why don’t you sit down and give me a chance to see what it is that I’m supposed to have done?’
Choking back another accusation, Tallis removed his top hat and sat down opposite the desk. Ridgeon, meanwhile, opened the newspaper and saw the headline that had upset the Superintendent. Police Chase Phantom Killer. Highly critical of Tallis and Colbeck, the article contended that the train crash was the result of an accident caused by the driver of the Brighton Express. Ridgeon was quoted a number of times.
‘You pour scorn on hard-working detectives,’ complained Tallis.
‘Not in the way that I’m quoted here,’ said Ridgeon. ‘I give you my word that I didn’t actually say some of these things.’
‘You spoke to the press, Captain Ridgeon, and that was fatal. They always twist what you tell them. If you’ll forgive my language,’ said Tallis, ‘a man in your position should know that a newspaper reporter is a man who swallows nails and shits screws. This unprincipled scribbler didn’t even have the courtesy to speak to me.’
‘That’s not true, Superintendent. According to him, he came to Scotland Yard as soon he heard about the crash and asked if the police were taking an interest in it. You told him that you were not.’
‘It was an honest answer.’
‘Yet you’d already dispatched Inspector Colbeck to the scene.’
‘I authorised him to go in the light of a request from the railway company. At that time,’ said Tallis, ‘there was no indication of any criminal activity in relation to the crash. Strictly speaking, therefore, I had not set an investigation in motion. When I did so, I hoped that it could operate without the so-called gentlemen of the press looking over our shoulders. Thanks to that libellous article,’ he went on, pointing to the newspaper, ‘the whole world now knows about it.’
‘Then they can judge for themselves whether or not a police investigation is appropriate.’
‘No, they can’t, Captain. People can only make a considered judgement if both sides of a case are presented to them. Only one is offered in that article – yours. You have no idea how much evidence Inspector Colbeck has gathered.’
‘I must correct you there, Superintendent.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The Inspector was good enough to reveal it to me.’
Tallis frowned. ‘When was this?’
‘Earlier today,’ said Ridgeon.
‘Colbeck made no mention of any visit to you. It was certainly not something I’d have endorsed. I felt that we’d said everything that needed to be said between us in my office.’
‘The Inspector took a less inflexible view of the situation than you, Superintendent. He had the sense to see that my work might complement his own. We had a long discussion.’