The Excursion Train

'What's that?' he asked.

'I'll have it stopped immediately,' declared Ferriday, getting up angrily from his seat and going to the door. 'That's intolerable.'

'Someone has heard the news of his death already,' noted Colbeck as the governor flung open the door to leave. 'Perhaps the chaplain was not as universally popular as you believed.'

The loss of Emily Hawkshaw's appetite was almost as worrying to her mother as the long silence into which the girl had lapsed. She refused more meals than she ate and, of those that were actually consumed, the major portion was always left on the plate. Emily was in no mood to eat anything at all that morning.

'Come on, dear,' coaxed Winifred. 'Try some of this bread.'

'No, thank you.'

'It's lovely and fresh. Eat it with a piece of cheese.'

'I'm not hungry.'

'Some jam, then.'

'No.'

'You must eat something, Emily.'

'Leave me be, Mother.'

'Please – for my sake.' The girl shook her head. 'If you go on like this, you'll make yourself ill. I can't remember the last time you had a decent meal. In the past, you always had such a good appetite.'

They were in the room at the rear of the shop, facing each other across the kitchen table. Emily looked paler than ever, her shoulders hunched, her whole body drawn in. She had never been the most lively and outgoing girl but she had seemed very contented in the past. Now she was like a stranger. Winifred no longer knew her daughter. As a last resort, she tried to interest her in local news.

'Mr Lewis, the draper, is going to buy the shop next door to his premises,' she told her. 'He wants to expand his business. Mr Lewis is very ambitious. I don't think it will be long before he's looking for another place to take over as well.' She gave a sigh. 'It's nice to know that someone in Ashford is doing well because we're not. Things seem to get worse each day. Adam says that hardly anybody came into the shop this morning.' Her voice brightened. 'Oh, I saw Gregory earlier on, did I tell you? He was taking his wife for a drive before he went off to the railway works. I know that we have our sorrows,' she continued, 'but we should spare a thought for Gregory. His wife has been like that for years and she'll never get any better. Meg can't walk and she can't speak. She has to be fed and seen to in every way by someone else. Think what a burden that must place on Gregory yet somehow he always stays cheerful.' She bent over the table. 'Can you hear what I'm saying?' she asked. 'We have to go on, Emily. No matter how much we may grieve, we have to go on. I know that you loved your father and miss him dreadfully but so do we all.' Emily's lower lip began to tremble. 'What do you think he'd say if he were here now? He wouldn't want to see you like this, would he? You have to make an effort.'

'I'll go to my room,' said Emily, trying to get up.

'No,' said Winifred, extending a hand to take her by the arm. 'Stay here and talk to me. Tell me what you feel. I'm your mother – I want to help you through this but I need some help in return. Don't you understand that?'

Emily nodded sadly. Winifred detached her arm. There was a long, bruised silence then it seemed as if the girl was finally about to say something but she changed her mind at the last moment. After a glance at the food on the table, she turned towards the door. Temper fraying slightly, Winifred adopted a sterner tone.

'If you won't eat your meals,' she warned, 'then there's only one thing I can do. I'll have to call the doctor.'

'No!' cried Emily, suddenly afraid. 'No, no, don't do that!'

And she fled the room in a flood of tears.

It was early evening before the two detectives finally got back to Ashford, having made extensive inquiries in both Maidstone and Paddock Wood. Both of their notebooks were filled with details relating to the latest crime. On reaching the station, they were greeted by the three defining elements of the town – the grandeur of its church, the smell of its river and the cacophony of its railway works. A steady drizzle was falling and they had no umbrella. Colbeck was still grappling with the problems thrown up by the new investigation but Victor Leeming's mind was occupied by a more immediate concern. It was the prospect of dinner at the Saracen's Head that exercised his brain and stimulated his senses. The only refreshment they had been offered all day was at the prison and the environment was hardly conducive to any enjoyment of food. When they turned into the high street, he began to lick his lips.

As they approached the inn, they saw that George Butterkiss was standing outside, his uniform now buttoned up properly and his face aglow with the desire to impress. He stood to attention and touched his helmet with a forefinger. Thoroughly damp, he looked as if he had been there some time.

'Did you find any clues, Inspector?' he asked, agog for news.

'Enough for us to act upon,' replied Colbeck.

'You will call upon us in due course, won't you?'

'If necessary, Constable.'

'How was the chaplain killed?'

'Quickly.'

'We can't discuss the details,' said Leeming, irritated by someone who stood between him and his dinner. 'Inspector Colbeck was very careful what information he released to the press.'

'Yes, yes,' said Butterkiss. 'I understand.'

'We know where to find you, Constable,' said Colbeck, walking past him. 'Thank you for your help this morning.'

'We appreciated it,' added Leeming.

'Thank you!' said Butterkiss, beaming like a waiter who has received a huge tip. 'Thank you very much.'

'By the way,' advised Leeming, unable to resist a joke at his expense. 'That uniform is too big for you, Constable. You should see a good tailor.'

He followed Colbeck into the Saracen's Head and made for the stairs. Before they could climb them, however, they were intercepted. Mary, the plump servant, hurried out of the bar. She subjected Leeming's face to close scrutiny.

'Those bruises are still there, Sergeant.'

'Thank you for telling me,' he said.

'Is there nothing you can put on them?'

'We were caught in the rain,' explained Colbeck, 'and we need to get out of these wet clothes. You'll have to excuse us.'

'But I haven't told you my message yet, Inspector.'

'Oh?'

'The gentleman said that I was to catch you as soon as you came back from wherever it is you've been. He was very insistent.'

'What gentleman, Mary?'

'The one who's taken a room for the night.'

'Did he give you a name?'

'Oh, yes,' she said, helpfully.

Leeming was impatient. 'Well,' he said, as his stomach began to rumble, 'what was it, girl?'

'Superintendent Tallis.'

'What!'

'He's going to dine with you here this evening.'

Suddenly, Victor Leeming no longer looked forward to the meal with quite the same relish.

Gregory Newman finished his shift at the railway works and washed his hands in the sink before leaving. Many of the boilermen went straight to the nearest pub to slake their thirst but Newman went home to see to his wife. During working hours, Meg Newman was looked after by a kindly old neighbour, who popped in at intervals to check on her. Since the invalid spent most of her time asleep, she could be left for long periods. When he got back to the house, Newman found that the neighbour, a white-haired woman in her sixties, was just about to leave.

'How is she, Mrs Sheen?' he asked.

'She's been asleep since lunch,' replied the other, 'so I didn't disturb her.'

'Did she eat much?'

'The usual, Mr Newman. And she used the commode.'

'That's good. Thank you, Mrs Sheen.'

'I'll see you tomorrow morning.'

'I'll take Meg for another ride before I go to work.'

He went into the house and opened the door of the front room where his wife lay in bed. She stirred. Newman gave her a token kiss on the forehead to let her know that he was back then he went off to change out of his working clothes. When he returned, his wife woke up long enough to eat some bread and drink some tea but she soon dozed off again. Newman left her alone. As he ate his own meal in the kitchen, he remembered his promise to Winifred Hawkshaw. After washing the plates and cutlery, he looked in on his wife again, saw that she was deeply asleep and slipped out of the house. The drizzle had stopped.