The Railway Viaduct

'What about the other two men?'

'Dowd and Murphy? Weak characters. Easily lead.'

'They'll get no mercy in court,' predicted Brassey. 'This railway has the backing of Louis Napoleon and his government. Anyone who tries to bring it to a halt will be hit with the full weight of the law.'

'The whole sad business is finally over,' said Slattery. 'I think that we ought to console ourselves with that thought.'

'But it isn't over yet.'

'No,' said Filton. 'The murder of Gaston Chabal has still to be solved. What happened here was entangled with that, Father Slattery.'

'How?'

'The only person who knows that is Inspector Colbeck.'

'Does he know the name of the killer?'

'He will do before long.'

'You sound very confident of that, Mr Filton.'

'He's an astonishing man.'

'It was an education to see him at work,' said Brassey. 'In his own way, Inspector Colbeck reminded me of Gaston. Both share the same passion for detail. They are utterly meticulous. That's why I know that he'll apprehend the killer in due course, Father Slattery.'

'More power to his elbow!'

'The inspector is tireless,' said Filton.

'Yes,' confirmed Brassey. 'His energy is remarkable. Even as we speak, the hunt is continuing with a vengeance.'

Robert Colbeck did not like him. The moment he set eyes on Gerald Kane, he felt an instant aversion. Kane was a short, neat, vain, conservatively dressed, fussy man in his forties, with long brown hair and a thick moustache. His deep-set eyes peered at the newcomer through wire-framed spectacles. His manner was officious and unwelcoming. Even after he had introduced himself, Colbeck was viewed with a mingled suspicion and distaste.

'Why are you bothering me, Inspector?' asked Kane, huffily. 'As far as I'm aware, we have broken no laws.'

'None at all, sir.'

'Then I'll ask you to be brief. I'm a busy man.'

'So am I.'

'In that case, we'll both profit from brevity.'

'This cannot be rushed, Mr Kane,' warned Colbeck.

'It will have to be, sir. I have a meeting.'

'Postpone it – for his sake.'

'Whom are you talking about?'

'Gaston Chabal.'

Gerald Kane raised his eyebrows in surprise, but the name did not encourage him to adopt a more friendly tone. He simply treated his visitor to a hostile stare across his desk. They were in his office, a place that was as cold, ordered and impeccably clean as the man himself. Everything on the leather top of the desk was in a tidy pile. All the pictures on the walls had been hung at identical heights. Kane was the secretary of the Society of Civil and Mechanical Engineers and he seemed to look upon his post as a major office of state. He sounded an almost imperious note.

'What about him, Inspector?' he said.

'I believe that you wrote to him, sir.'

'I don't see why that should concern you. Any correspondence in which I am engaged is highly confidential.'

'Not when one of the recipients of your letters is murdered.'

'I'm well aware of what happened to Chabal,' said Kane without the slightest gesture towards sympathy. 'It's caused me no little inconvenience.'

'He did not get himself killed in order to inconvenience you,' said Colbeck, sharply. 'Since you wrote to invite him to lecture here, you might show some interest in helping to solve the crime.'

'That is your job, Inspector. Leave me to do mine.'

'I will, sir – when I have finished.'

Kane looked at his watch. 'And when, pray, will that be?'

'When I tell you, sir.'

'You cannot keep me here against my will.'

'I quite agree,' said Colbeck, moving to the door. 'This is not the best place for an interview. Perhaps you'd be so good as to accompany me to Scotland Yard where we can talk at more leisure.'

'I'm not leaving this building,' protested Kane. 'I have work to do. You obviously don't realise who I am, Inspector.'

'You're a man who is wilfully concealing evidence from the police, sir, and that is a criminal offence. If you will not come with me voluntarily, I will have to arrest you.'

'But I have no evidence.'

'That's for me to decide.'

'This is disgraceful. I shall complain to the commissioner.'

Colbeck opened the door. 'I'll make sure that he visits you in your cell, sir,' he said, levelly. 'Shall we go?'

Gerald Kane got to his feet. After frothing impotently for a couple of minutes, he finally capitulated. Dropping back into his chair, he waved a hand in surrender.

'Close that door,' he suggested, 'and take a seat.'

'Thank you, sir,' said Colbeck, doing as he was told. 'I knew that you'd see the wisdom of cooperating with us. The situation is this. When I was in Mantes recently, I went through Chabal's effects and found a letter written by you. Since it invited him to give a second lecture, I take it that you organised his earlier visit.'

'I did. It's one of my many duties.'

'Where did the earlier lecture take place?'

'Right here, Inspector. We have a large room for such meetings. My colleagues are sitting in it at this very moment,' he went on with a meaningful glint, 'awaiting my arrival for an important discussion.'

'Engineers are patient men, sir. Forget them.'

'They will wonder where I am.'

'Then it will give them something to talk about,' said Colbeck, easily. 'Now, sir, can you tell me why you invited Chabal here?'

'He was a coming man.'

'Do we not have enough able engineers in England?'

'Of course,' replied Kane, 'but this fellow was quite exceptional. Thomas Brassey recommended him. That was how he came to my notice. Gaston Chabal had enormous promise.'

'His lecture was obviously well-received.'

'We had several requests for him to come back.'

'Could you tell me the date of his visit to you?'

'It was in spring, Inspector – April 10th, to be exact.'

'You have a good memory.'

'That's essential in my job.'

'Then I'll take advantage of it again, if I may,' said Colbeck. 'Can you recall how many people attended the lecture? Just give me an approximate number.'

'I represent civil and mechanical engineers,' declared the other, loftily. 'Accuracy is all to us. We do not deal in approximates but in exact measurements. When he first spoke here, Gaston Chabal had ninety-four people in the audience – excluding myself, naturally. As the secretary of the Society, I was here as a matter of course.'

'Were the others all exclusively engineers?'

'No, Inspector. The audience contained various parties.'

'Such as?'

'People with a vested interest in railways. We had directors of certain railway companies as well as potential investors in the Mantes to Caen project. Mr Brassey, alas, was not here but Chabal was a fine ambassador for him.'

'Ninety-four people.'

'Ninety-five, if you add me.'

'I would not dream of eliminating you, Mr Kane,' said Colbeck. 'With your permission, I'd like to plunder that famous memory of yours one last time. How many of those who attended do you recall?'

'I could give you every single name.'

Colbeck was impressed. 'You can remember all of them?'

'No, Inspector,' said Kane, opening a drawer to take something out. 'I kept a record. If I'd secured Chabal's services again, I intended to write to everyone on this list to advise them of his return.' He held out a sheet of paper. 'Would you care to see it?'

Colbeck decided he might grow to like Gerald Kane, after all.

Victor Leeming was so pleased to be taking part in the investigation again that he forgot the nagging twinge in his ribs as he walked along. It took him some time to reach his destination. He had been sent to the police station that was responsible for Limehouse and adjoining districts. Close to the river, it was a bustling community that was favoured by sailors and fishermen. Limehouse had taken its name centuries earlier from the lime kilns that stood there when plentiful supplies of chalk could be brought in from Kent. It was the docks that now gave the area its characteristic flavour and its central feature.