The Excursion Train

He knew exactly where he would find Adam Hawkshaw at that time of the evening. A brisk walk soon got him to the high street and he turned into the Fountain Inn, one of the most popular hostelries in the town. The place was quite full but nobody was talking to Hawkshaw, seated alone at a table and staring into his tankard with a quiet smile on his face. Walking jauntily into the bar, Newman clapped Hawkshaw on the shoulder by way of greeting. He then bought some beer for both of them and took the two glasses across to the table.

'I was hoping to catch you, Adam,' he said, sitting down.

'Just in time. I'll have to leave soon.'

'Where are you going?'

'That would be telling.'

Adam Hawkshaw grinned wolfishly then finished the dregs of his own drink before picking up the other tankard. He seemed in good spirits. Raising the tankard to Newman in gratitude, he took a long sip.

'How's business?' asked Newman.

'Bad,' said the other, 'though it did pick up this afternoon. Best day we've had all week. What about you, Gregory?'

'Boiler-making is a good trade. I was never apprenticed to it but those years in the forge stood me in good stead. The foreman is amazed how quickly I've picked things up.'

'Do you miss the forge?'

'I miss chatting to the customers,' said Newman, 'and I loved working with horses but the forge had to go. It was unfair on Meg to make so much noise underneath her bedroom. The new house is much quieter and she can sleep downstairs.'

'How is she?'

'As well as can be expected.' Newman leant over the table. 'But I haven't told you the news yet,' he said with a glint. 'One advantage of working by the railway station is that word travels fast. Our foreman heard it from the guard on a train to Margate. He's dead, Adam.'

'Who is?'

'The prison chaplain.'

'Never!'

'Murdered on a train last night,' said Newman, 'and I'm not going to pretend I wasn't pleased to hear it. Narcissus Jones made your father suffer in that prison.'

'Yes.'

'And someone called him to account.'

Adam Hawkshaw seemed unsure how to react to the tidings. His face was impassive but his eyes were gleaming. He took a long drink of beer from his tankard then wiped his mouth with a sleeve.

'That's great news, Gregory,' he said. 'Thank you.'

'I thought you'd be delighted.'

'Well, I don't feel sorry for that Welsh bastard, I know that.'

'Win ought to be told. It might cheer her up.' Newman sat back. 'I spoke to her early this morning. She said that you wouldn't talk to Inspector Colbeck.'

'Nor to any other policeman,' said Hawkshaw, sourly.

'But he might help us.' The other snorted. 'He might, Adam. We've all tried to find the man who did kill Joe Dykes but we've got nowhere so far. And we have jobs to do, people to support. This detective has the time to conduct a proper search.'

'Keep him away from me.'

'If we can convince him that your father was innocent, we'll get him on our side – don't you see?'

'He thinks we killed that hangman.'

'That doesn't mean we don't use him, Adam.'

'Forget it.'

'Win agrees,' said Newman. 'If we cooperate with this Inspector, he may do us all a favour and help to clear your father's name. You want the man who really killed Joe Dykes to be caught, don't you?'

Hawkshaw gave him a strange look then took another long sip from his tankard. Wiping his mouth again, he got to his feet.

'Thanks for the beer, Gregory.'

'Where are you going?'

'I've got to see somebody.'

Without even a farewell, Adam Hawkshaw walked out of the bar.

Robert Colbeck was sporting a red silk waistcoat when he joined his superior for dinner and Edward Tallis glared at it with unconcealed distaste. Victor Leeming's apparel was far more conservative but he was criticised by the Superintendent for being too untidy. It did not make for a pleasant meal. Tallis waited until they had ordered from the menu before he pitched into the two detectives.

'What the deuce is going on?' he demanded. 'I send you off to solve one railway murder and a second one is committed.'

'We can hardly be blamed for that, sir,' said Colbeck.

'But it happened right under your noses.'

'Paddock Wood is some distance from here and the chaplain was killed somewhere beyond it. We have a rough idea of the location.'

'How?'

'Because we walked beside the line,' said Leeming, able to get a word in at last. 'The Inspector's theory was right.'

'It wasn't a theory, Victor,' said Colbeck, quickly, 'because we know that the Superintendent frowns upon such things. It was more of an educated supposition.'

'Don't try to bamboozle me,' warned Tallis.

'It would never cross my mind, sir.'

Leeming took over. 'Inspector Colbeck believed that the killer committed his crime soon after the train left Paddock Wood, then jumped off it before it reached the first station at Yalding.'

'A preposterous notion!' said Tallis.

'We proved it.'

'Yes,' said Colbeck. 'A shallow embankment runs alongside the line outside Yalding. We found a place where there were distinct footprints, as if someone had landed heavily and skidded down the grass. My supposition was correct.'

'I dispute that,' said Tallis. 'Those marks could have been caused by someone else – children, playing near the line, for instance.'

'A child would not leave a murder weapon behind, sir.'

'What?'

'We found it in some bushes close to the footprints.'

'A piece of wire,' said Leeming, 'covered in blood.'

'Then why didn't you bring it back with you?' asked Tallis. 'That's the kind of evidence we desperately need.'

'It's upstairs in my room, Superintendent,' Colbeck reassured him. 'The stationmaster at Yalding was kind enough to give me a bag in which to carry it. So at least we know where and precisely how the prison chaplain met his death.'

'What we really need is a suspect.'

'Two of them, sir.'

Tallis was sceptical. 'Not this phantom woman again, surely?'

'She was no phantom, sir,' said Leeming. 'There were two clear sets of footprints beside the railway line. The Inspector guessed it the moment we heard the news. The woman was there to distract the victim.'

'Both of them will hang when they're caught.'

'Yes,' said Colbeck, 'for the two murders.'

'You're certain we're dealing with the same killer here?'

'Without a shadow of doubt, sir.'

'Convince me,' said Tallis, thrusting out his chin.

Colbeck had rehearsed his report in advance. It was clear and concise, containing a description of what the Inspector had found at the scene of the crime and the supporting evidence that had been gathered. Leeming felt impelled to add his own coda.

'We even called at St Peter's Church in Paddock Wood,' he said. 'They still had the board that advertised the talk by the Reverend Jones. A large congregation turned up with lots of strangers among them.'

'Including, I should imagine, the killer,' said Tallis.

'He and this woman must have followed the chaplain to the station and seized their opportunity.'

'Yes,' said Colbeck. 'They realised that there wouldn't be many people on that train so there was a good chance that their victim would get into an empty carriage. The rest we know.'

'It means that I now have two railway companies demanding action from me,' complained Tallis. 'If anything, the management of the South Eastern Railway is even more strident. They say that disasters come in threes. Which is the next railway company to harry me?'