The Excursion Train

'Where's Emily?' she asked.

'I've no idea.'

'She's not in her room – or anywhere else.'

'I didn't see her go out.'

'Have you been here all the time?'

'Yes,' he said. 'Except when I went to buy some tobacco.'

'Emily's run away,' decided her mother.

'That's silly – where could she go?'

'I don't know, Adam, but she's not here, is she? Emily hasn't been out of the house for weeks but, as soon as my back is turned, she's off. Lock up quickly,' she ordered. 'We've got to go after her.'

'She'll come back in her own good time,' he argued.

'Not when she's in that state. I've never known her have a fit like that. There's something very wrong with Emily. Now, hurry up,' she urged. 'We must find her!'

Surrounded by a graveyard in which leafy trees threw long shadows across the headstones, St Mary's Church had stood for four centuries. It was at once imposing and accessible, a fine piece of architecture that never forgot its main function of serving the parish. Emily Hawkshaw attended the church every Sunday with her family and they had always sat in the same pew halfway down the nave. This time, she ignored her usual seat and walked down the aisle to the altar rail before kneeling in front of it. Hands clasped together, she closed her eyes tight and prayed for forgiveness, her mind in turmoil, her body shaking and perspiration breaking out on her brow. She was in a positive fever of contrition.

Madeleine Andrews had travelled from London to Ashford in a second-class compartment but Colbeck was so happy to see her, and so grateful for the information she brought, that he insisted on buying her a first-class ticket for the return journey. He removed his hat to give her a kiss on the hand then waved her off, standing wistfully on the platform until the train had rounded a bend and disappeared from sight. Deeply moved by her visit, Colbeck felt that it had been more than a pleasant interlude. What she had learnt in hoxton might well serve to confirm his theory about how a man who courted anonymity had been traced to his home. Madeleine's attendance at a funeral had been opportune.

Deciding to call on Emily Hawkshaw again, Colbeck left the station and made for Church Street. He had already resolved to say nothing to his Sergeant about the unheralded visitor. Victor Leeming was too old-fashioned and conventional to believe that a woman could be directly involved in the investigative process. It was better to keep him – and, more importantly, Superintendent Tallis – ignorant of Madeleine's part in the case. The Metropolitan Police was an exclusively male preserve. Robert Colbeck was one of the very few men who even dallied with the notion of employing female assistants.

As he approached St Mary's Church, his mind was still playing with fond memories of taking tea with Madeleine at the Saracen's Head. A loud scream jerked him out of his reverie. Ahead of him, pointing upwards with horror, was a middle-aged woman. The handful of people walking past the church immediately stopped and followed the direction of her finger. Colbeck saw the slim figure at once. Holding one of the pinnacles on top of the tower was a young woman in a black dress, trying to haul herself on to the parapet. It was Emily Hawkshaw.

Recognising her at once, Colbeck broke into a run and dashed into the church, shedding his hat and frock coat as he did so and diving through the door to the tower. He went up the steps as fast as he could, going up past the huge iron bells and feeling a first rush of air as he neared the open door at the top. When he emerged into daylight, he saw that Emily was poised between life and death, clinging to the pinnacle while standing precariously on the parapet. Intent on flinging herself off, the girl seemed to be having second thoughts.

Colbeck inched slowly towards her so that he would be in her field of vision. In order not to alarm her, he kept his voice calm and low.

'Stay there, Emily,' he said, 'I'll help you down.'

'No!' she cried. 'Stay back.'

'I know that you must hate yourself even to think of doing this but you must remember those who love you. Do you really want to hurt your family and your friends?'

'I don't deserve to be loved.'

'Come down from there and tell me why,' he suggested, moving closer. 'Killing yourself will solve nothing.'

'Keep away from me – or I'll jump.'

'No, Emily. If you really meant to do it, you'd have gone by now. But you knew that there would be consequences, didn't you? Others would suffer terribly, especially your mother. Don't you think she's been through enough already?'

'I've been through it as well,' sobbed the girl.

'Then share your suffering with her. Help each other, Emily.'

'I can't.'

'You must,' he said, gently. 'It's the only way.'

'God will never forgive me.'

'You won't find forgiveness by jumping off here. To take your own life is anathema. To do it on consecrated ground makes it even worse. This is a church, Emily. You understand what that means, don't you?'

She began to tremble. 'I just can't go on.'

'Yes, you can. It won't always be like this. Time heals even the deepest wounds. You have a long life ahead of you. Why destroy it in a moment of despair? You're loved, Emily,' he said, taking a small step towards her. 'You're loved and needed.'

The girl fell silent as she considered what he had said and Colbeck took it as a good sign. But she was still balanced perilously on the edge of the parapet. One false move on his part and she might jump. From down below, he could hear sounds of a crowd gathering to watch. Emily Hawkshaw had an audience.

'You know that this is wrong,' he told her, moving slightly closer. 'You were christened in this church and brought up in a God-fearing household. You know that it mustn't end this way. It will leave a stain on the whole family.'

'I don't care about that.'

'What do you care about? Tell me. I'm here to listen.'

'You wouldn't understand,' she said, trembling even more.

'Then come down and talk to someone who would understand.' He ventured another step. 'Please, Emily. For everyone's sake – come down.'

The girl began to weep and cling more desperately to the pinnacle. It was as if she finally realised the implications of what she had intended to do. Suddenly, she lost her nerve and began to panic. Emily tried to turn back but her foot slipped and she lost her hold on the pinnacle. There was a gasp of horror from below as she teetered on the very brink of the parapet, then Colbeck darted forward to grab her and snatched her back to safety.

Emily Hawkshaw fainted in his arms.

After another tiring day in the boiler shop, Gregory Newman was eager to get home to Turton Street. As he came out of the railway works, however, he found Adam Hawkshaw waiting to speak to him.

'Good evening, Adam,' he said, cheerily.

'Can you come to the shop?' asked the other. 'Mother wants to talk to you as soon as possible.'

'Why – what's happened?'

'Emily tried to commit suicide.'

'Dear God!'

'She was going to throw herself off the church tower.'

'What on earth made her do that?'

'We don't know, Gregory.'

'Where is Emily now?'

'She's in bed. The doctor gave her something to make her sleep.'

'Did she change her mind at the last moment?'

'No,' said Hawkshaw with a tinge of resentment. 'That Inspector Colbeck went up the tower and brought her down again. We saw him catch her as she was about to fall. It's a miracle she's alive.'

'This is terrible news!' exclaimed Newman.

'Then you'll come?'

'Of course. Let me go home first to take care of my wife then I'll come straight away. How has Win taken it?'

'She's very upset.'

'Emily – of all people! You'd never have thought she'd do anything as desperate as this. Whatever could have provoked her?'

'She took fright when Inspector Colbeck wanted to question her.'