The Railway Viaduct

'I'm sorry that it's so cramped in here,' Heyford began.

'We've seen worse,' said Leeming, looking around.

'Much worse,' agreed Colbeck.

'Ashford in Kent, for instance. Six thousand people and only two constables to look after them from a tiny police house.'

'Some towns still refuse to take policing seriously enough. They take the Utopian view that crime will somehow solve itself without the intercession of detective work.' He appraised Heyford shrewdly. 'I'm sure that Liverpool displays more common sense.'

'It has to, Inspector,' said Heyford, sententiously, 'though we are woefully short of men to police a population of well over three hundred thousand. This is a thriving port. When the ships dock here, we've foreigners of all kind roaming our streets. If my men did not keep close watch over them, we'd have riot and destruction.'

'I'm sure that you do an excellent job.'

'That's how I earned my promotion.' He looked from one to the other. 'May I ask how you got here so soon?'

'That was the inspector's doing,' said Leeming, indicating his companion. 'He knows everything about train timetables. I prefer to travel by coach but Inspector Colbeck insisted that we came by rail.'

'How else could we have seen the Sankey Viaduct?' asked Colbeck. 'A coach would hardly have taken us across it. And think of the time we saved, Victor. Travel between Manchester and Liverpool by coach and it will take you up to four and a half hours. The train got us here in far less than half that time.' He turned to Heyford. 'I've always been fascinated by the railway system. That's why I know how to get from London to Liverpool at the fastest possible speed.'

'Inspector Colbeck!' said Heyford as realisation dawned. 'I thought I'd heard that name before.'

'He's the Railway Detective,' explained Leeming.

The information did not endear them to Heyford. If anything, it only soured him even more. Newspaper accounts of Colbeck's exploits had reached Liverpool in the past and they were invariably full of praise. Sidney Heyford felt that he deserved the same kind of public veneration. He took a deep breath.

'We are quite able to handle this case ourselves,' he asserted.

'That may be so,' said Colbeck, briskly, 'but your authority has been overridden. The London and North-West Railway Company has asked specifically that the Detective Department of the Metropolitan Police Force intercede. Last year, Sergeant Leeming and I were fortunate enough to solve an earlier crime for the same company so we were requested by name.'

Leeming nodded. 'They were very grateful.'

'So, instead of haggling over who should be in charge, I suggest that you give us all the information that you have so far gathered. We shall, of course, be glad of your assistance, Inspector Heyford, but we have not come all this way to have our credentials questioned.'

Colbeck had spoken with such firm politeness that Heyford was slightly stunned. He retreated into a muted surliness. Snatching up the papers from his desk, he told them about the progress of the investigation, reciting the details as if he had learned them by heart.

'At 10.15 a.m.,' he said, flatly, 'a train passed over the Sankey Viaduct on its way to Liverpool. The body of a man was thrown over the parapet and landed in the canal. When some people on a barge hauled it out of the water – their names were Enoch and Samuel Triggs, a father and son – it was found that the victim had been killed before he was flung from the train. He had been stabbed in the back though there was no sign of any weapon.'

'What state was the body in?' asked Colbeck.

'A bad one, Inspector. When he hit the water, the man's head collided with a piece of driftwood. It smashed his face in. His own mother wouldn't recognise him now.'

'Was there anything on his body to identify him?'

'Nothing. His wallet and watch were missing. So was his jacket.'

'Where is the body now?'

'In the mortuary.'

'I'd like to examine it.'

'It will tell you nothing beyond the fact that he was a young man and a very healthy one, by the look of it.'

'Nevertheless, I want to see the body this evening.'

'Very well.'

'If you don't mind, sir,' said Leeming, squeamishly, 'it's a treat that I'll forego. I hate morgues. They unsettle my stomach.'

Colbeck smiled. 'Then I'll spare you the ordeal, Victor.' He looked at Heyford again. 'There were two men on the barge, you say?'

'Actually,' replied the other, 'there were three, the third being Micah Triggs. He owns the barge but is very old. His son and grandson do most of the work.'

'But he was another witness.'

'Yes, Inspector. He confirmed what the others told me. When they had pulled the man out of the canal, they moored the barge. Samuel Triggs clambered all the way up to the station and caught the next train here to report the crime.' He puffed out his chest. 'He knew that Liverpool had a better police force than Manchester.'

Leeming was puzzled. 'Why didn't the train from which the body was thrown stop at the viaduct? We did. Inspector Colbeck wanted to take a look at the scene of the crime.'

'This morning's train was an express that does not stop at all the intermediate stations.'

'The killer would have chosen it for that reason,' said Colbeck.

'Once he had jettisoned his victim, he wanted to get away from there as swiftly as possible.' He pondered. 'So far, it would appear, we have three witnesses, all of whom were in a similar position. Was anyone else there at the time?'

'According to Enoch Triggs, there were two ladies and a boy on the bank but they fled in fear. We have no idea who they were. Oh, yes,' he went on, studying one of the statements, 'and there seems to have been a man there as well but he, too, vanished. The truth is that Enoch Triggs and his son were too busy trying to rescue the body from the water to notice much else.'

'That takes care of those at the scene of the crime. I presume that you have details of where this barge can be reached?'

'Yes, Inspector.'

'Good. What about the other witnesses?'

'There were none,' asserted Heyford.

'A train full of passengers and nobody sees a man being tossed over the side of a viaduct? That's not an everyday event. It's something that people would remember.'

'I'd remember it,' agreed Leeming.

'Well?' said Colbeck. 'Did you make any effort to contact the passengers on that train, Inspector Heyford?'

'How could I?' asked the other, defensively. 'By the time we were made aware of the crime, the passengers had all dispersed throughout the city.'

'Many of them may have intended to return to Manchester. It may well be that some people live there and work here. Did it never occur to you to have someone at the railway station this afternoon to question anyone leaving Liverpool who might have travelled on that train this morning?'

'No, sir.'

'Then we'll need to meet the same train tomorrow. With luck, we should find at least a few people who make the journey daily.'

'Wait,' said Heyford, leafing through the papers. 'There was something else. Oddly enough, it was the old man who told me this.'

'Micah Triggs?'

'He thought the man was thrown from the last carriage.'

'So?'

'That might explain why nobody saw it happen.'

'What about the guard?' said Leeming. 'His van would be behind the last carriage. Why did he see nothing?'

'Because he could have been looking the other way,' said Colbeck, thinking it through, 'or been distracted by something else. It would only have taken seconds to dispose of that body and the last carriage would be the ideal place.' His eyes flicked back to Heyford. 'I take it that you've spoken to the guard, Inspector.'

'No,' said the other. 'When I got to the station, that train had long since left for Manchester with the guard aboard.'