The Excursion Train

Even from that distance, she found the service profoundly moving, conducted by Father Cleary in a high-pitched voice that reached every corner of the building without effort. The burial was even more affecting and, though she only watched it from behind one of the statues in the graveyard, Madeleine felt as if she were actually part of the event. Louise Guttridge tossed a handful of earth on to the coffin then turned away. The rest of the mourners took their leave of Father Cleary and dispersed.

To Madeleine's horror, the widow walked slowly in her direction. The interloper had been seen. Madeleine feared the worst, expecting to be castigated for daring to trespass on private grief, for attending the funeral of a man she had never known and could not possibly admire. Pursing her lips, she braced herself for deserved censure. Louise Guttridge stopped a few yards from her and beckoned with a finger.

'Come on out, please,' she said.

'Yes, Mrs Guttridge,' agreed Madeleine, emerging from her refuge.

'I thought it was you, Miss Andrews.'

'I didn't mean to upset you in any way.'

'I'm sure that you didn't. You came out of the goodness of your heart, didn't you?' She looked around. 'That's more than I can say for my son. Michael and his wife could not even bother to turn up today. You, a complete stranger, have more sympathy in you than our only child.'

'It was perhaps as well that he did stay away, Mrs Guttridge.'

'Yes, you may be right.'

'At a time like this, you don't want old wounds to be opened.'

'That's true, Miss Andrews.'

'Your son has his own life now.'

'Rebecca is welcome to him!'

Louise Guttridge's face glowed with anger for a second then she went off into a reverie. It lasted for minutes. All that Madeleine could do was to stand there and wait. She felt highly embarrassed. When she saw that Father Cleary was heading their way, Madeleine squirmed and wished that she had never dared to go to Hoxton that morning. She began to move slowly away.

'Perhaps I should go, Mrs Guttridge,' she said.

'No, no. Wait here.'

'I sense that I'm in the way.'

'Not at all,' said the other woman, taking her by the wrist. 'Stay here while I speak with Father Cleary. I need to talk to you alone afterwards.' She gave a semblance of a smile. 'And don't worry about me, Miss Andrews. Jacob has been laid to rest now and I'm at peace with myself. God has provided.'

Edward Tallis was feared for the strong discipline he enforced but he was also respected for his effectiveness. As soon as he reached London, he drafted a letter to the Home Office in response to Colbeck's request. Sent by hand, it prompted an instant response and he was able to dispatch the document to Ashford. It arrived by courier that afternoon as Robert Colbeck and Victor Leeming sat down to a late luncheon at the Saracen's Head. The Inspector took the long sheet of paper out of the envelope with a flourish.

'Here it is, Victor,' he said, unfolding it. 'The petition I wanted.'

'Well done, Mr Tallis!'

'I knew that he wouldn't let us down.'

'I never believed that the Home Secretary would bother to keep this sort of thing,' said Leeming. 'I imagined that he'd tear it into strips and use them to light his cigars.'

'You're being unfair to Mr Walpole. His duty is to consider every appeal made on behalf of a condemned man. In this case, he did not see any grounds for a reprieve.'

'They wanted more than a reprieve, sir.'

'Yes,' said Colbeck as he read the preamble at the top of the petition. 'It's an uncompromising demand for Nathan Hawkshaw's freedom, neatly written and well worded.'

'How many names in all?'

'Dozens. Fifty or sixty, at least.'

Leeming sighed. 'Will we have to speak to them all?'

'No, Victor. My guess is that the man we're after will be somewhere in the first column of names. Those are the ones they collected first, the ones they knew they could count on.'

'Who's at the top, sir – Hawkshaw's wife?'

'Yes,' replied Colbeck, 'followed by his son. At least, I take it to be Adam Hawkshaw's signature. It's very shaky. Then we have Gregory Newman, Timothy Lodge, horace Fillimore, Peter Stelling and so on. The one name we don't seem to have,' he said, running his eye down the parallel columns, 'is that of Emily Hawkshaw. Now, why wouldn't the girl sign a petition on behalf of her stepfather?'

'You'll have to ask her, Inspector.'

'I will, I promise you.'

'Are there any women on the list – apart from the wife, that is?'

'Quite a few, Victor. By the look of it, most of the names are beside those of their husbands but there are one or two on their own.'

'Perhaps she's one of them.'

'She?'

'The female accomplice you believe is implicated.'

'I think that there's a good chance of that. However,' said Colbeck, setting the petition aside, 'let's order our meal and exchange our news. I long to hear how you got on. Was your visit to Canterbury productive?'

'Far more productive than the journey there and back, sir.'

'Constable Butterkiss?'

'He keeps on treating me as if I'm a recruiting sergeant for the Metropolitan Police,' grumbled Leeming. 'I had to listen to his life story and it was not the most gripping adventure I've heard. Thank heavens I never became a tailor. I'd hate to be so servile.'

'He'll learn, I'm sure. He's raw and inexperienced but I sense that he has the makings of a good policeman. Bear with him, Victor. Apart from anything else, he can help us to identify the people on this list.'

The waiter took their order and went off to the kitchen. Leeming was able to describe his jarring encounter with Patrick Perivale. He quoted some of the barrister's remarks verbatim.

'He was exactly the sort of man you said he'd be, Inspector.'

'The egotistical type that never admit they can make a mistake. I've met too many of those in the courtroom,' said Colbeck. 'Winning is everything to them. It doesn't matter if a human life is at stake. All that concerns them is their standing as an advocate.'

'I could see how Mr Perivale had built his reputation.'

'Why – did he hector you?'

'He tried to,' said Leeming, 'but I put him in his place by telling him that you'd been a barrister in London.'

'No word of thanks for warning him, then?'

'He was insulted that we'd even dared to do so.'

'Outwardly, perhaps,' decided Colbeck, 'but it was all bravado. I can't believe that even he will ignore the fact that two murders have already been committed as a result of that trial.'

'I agree, sir. I reckon that he loaded that pistol of his as soon as I left. At one point,' said Leeming with a laugh, 'I thought he'd fire the thing at me. I got under his skin somehow.'

'You were right to do so, Victor, or you'd have learnt nothing.'

'What worried me was that detail about the missing coat.'

'Yes, that disturbs me as well.'

'Hawkshaw was unable to explain its disappearance.'

'I can see why the prosecution drew blood on that point,' said Colbeck, thoughtfully. 'It further undermined Hawkshaw's defence. Nothing you've told me about him has been very flattering or, for that matter, endearing, but Mr Perivale must be an able man or he'd not have been retained in the first place. Unlike us, he saw all the evidence and made a judgement accordingly. I'm beginning to wonder if my own assumptions have been wrong.'

'You think that Hawkshaw was guilty?'

'It's a possibility that we have to entertain, Victor.'

'Then why are so many people certain of his innocence?' asked Leeming, touching the petition. 'They must have good cause.'

'Yes,' said Colbeck, 'they must. But thank you for making the journey to Canterbury. It's thrown up some valuable information.'