Edward Marston - Inspector Colbeck's Casebook

‘That’s an unfair comparison.’

‘I fancy that I’d make a better job of it than he did of being a detective.’

‘But you’d have the sense not even to try. Father, on the other hand, couldn’t be held back. He was determined that it would be his case. He’s always been rather impulsive. This is only the latest example.’

‘In principle, I admire what he did but I deplore the way he went about it.’

‘He’ll be terribly upset. I’d better go and see him tomorrow.’

‘That’s an excellent idea, Madeleine,’ said Colbeck. ‘Apart from anything else, it will keep him away from Euston. I don’t want him going there and stepping on Victor Leeming’s toes.’

‘What will the sergeant be doing there?’

‘He’ll be on the lookout for an old harpist and a cunning pickpocket.’

Victor Leeming was very unhappy about being sent to Euston on what he perceived as a rather demeaning errand. As a detective, he dealt with dangerous criminals and helped to solve major crimes. In his eyes, looking for a pickpocket was in the nature of a demotion. The harpist arrived and selected a spot near the ticket office. Dog and cap lay beside him. As the old man began his recital, Leeming rolled his eyes and turned to the uniformed policeman next to him.

‘I hate street musicians,’ he said, bitterly. ‘When I set off for work this morning, there was a hurdy-gurdy man outside my front door. I turned the corner and almost walked into a barrel organ. Farther down the street, someone was playing a violin — it sounded as if he was trying to strangle a cat. But the worst of all was these two lads in kilts,’ he went on with a groan. ‘They were playing bagpipes and going from house to house in search of Scotsmen. The noise was deafening. People gave them money just to get rid of them.’

‘I quite like the harpist,’ said the policeman, defensively.

‘Then you shouldn’t be listening. You’re on duty.’

‘I could say the same of you, sir.’

‘Point towards the waiting room,’ suggested Leeming. ‘If anyone is watching me, I don’t want them to think I’m a policeman. Let them believe I just asked you for directions.’

The policeman obeyed. Leeming pretended to thank him before walking over to the waiting room. Once inside, he stood by the window so that he could see the ever-changing crowd around the harpist. Nothing remotely suspicious occurred. After a barren half an hour, he stamped his foot in irritation and went outside again, making for the bookstall where he bought a newspaper. While opening it up as if reading it, he kept one eye firmly fixed on the people enjoying the music.

By early afternoon, Leeming was becoming increasingly annoyed. He was even tempted to abandon his vigil and return to more important duties at Scotland Yard. Then something of interest finally took place. A man came out of the ticket office in obvious distress. He scuttled across to the policeman to whom Leeming had spoken earlier. From the way that he patted one side of his chest and pointed towards the harpist, the sergeant deduced that the man’s wallet had been stolen and that the crime had only come to light when he went to buy a ticket. The policeman nodded soulfully as he heard the tale of woe but he didn’t walk towards the harpist to investigate. Having been warned why Leeming was there, he kept well away from the harpist for fear of frightening the pickpocket and accomplice — if such a person existed — away from the station altogether. But at least it was clear that a deft hand was at work. Leeming cheered up. His presence might be justified, after all.

Drifting towards the harpist, he stood a few yards away from the crowd around him, blocking out the music so that he could concentrate solely on watching them. The long wait eventually yielded a reward but it was an unexpected one. Having been certain that he was looking for a man, he was astonished when his chief suspect was a buxom woman of middle years with an expensive dressmaker. She looked altogether too grand to bother with an itinerant musician yet she produced a purse and took out a handful of coins to drop into his cap. The dog yawned in gratitude. What she did next alerted Leeming at once. She bumped into someone, apologised profusely to him then pushed her way gently through the crowd and headed for the exit. Leeming was after her immediately. Though she had a good start on him, he soon overhauled her.

‘Good day to you, madam,’ he said. ‘I wonder if I may have a word.’

‘I’m in rather a hurry,’ she said, sizing him up at a glance and deciding that he was not fit company. ‘You’ll have to excuse me.’

Leeming stood in her path. ‘I’m afraid that I can’t do that.’

‘If you don’t get out of my way, I’ll summon a policeman.’

‘I am a policeman,’ he told her, ‘and I’m here to arrest pickpockets. I’ve every reason to believe that you stole a man’s wallet earlier on and have just deprived another victim of his money. You’ll have to accompany me to the police station.’

‘I’ll be delighted to do so,’ she said, angrily, ‘because I wish to complain about the sheer impertinence of one of their officers. When he was alive — you may be interested to know — my late husband was an archdeacon. We led lives of absolute piety. Arthur would have been outraged to hear of the monstrous accusation that I was a criminal.’

She glared angrily at Leeming but he stood his ground resolutely.

‘I saw what I saw, madam,’ he said.

‘Then take me to the police station and search me,’ she said, defiantly. ‘You’ll find nothing incriminating.’

‘I don’t expect to — someone as intelligent as you would never risk being caught with any of the stolen items on you. An accomplice was at hand so that you could slip him wallets and purses as and when you lifted them from their owners. As soon as he sees me hauling you off,’ explained Leeming, ‘he’ll follow in order to rescue you. When he spots someone breaking away from the crowd, the policeman I alerted earlier will intercept him.’

The woman drew herself up to her full height. ‘This is absolute lunacy.’

‘Come this way, madam,’ he said, taking her arm.

She shook him off. ‘Unhand me, sir! Don’t you dare touch me!’

‘If you don’t do as I say, I’ll be forced to handcuff you.’

‘I’m a respectable woman and — on my word of honour — I’ve done nothing wrong. Surely, that’s all you need to hear, man.’

‘That excuse may have worked on the archdeacon — if that’s what your late husband really was — but it will not do for me. Every person I’ve ever arrested has pleaded innocence.’

‘If you don’t believe me , ask my sister.’

‘Yes,’ said a voice behind him, ‘I’ll vouch for Maud.’

Leeming turned to see a much smaller woman of similar age. Her benign appearance belied her character because she suddenly pushed him hard in the chest with both hands. As he staggered backwards, the other woman stuck out a leg and tripped him up. Both of them then lifted up their skirts and showed a surprising turn of speed. Before Leeming could drag himself up, they’d got to the exit and headed for the cab rank. He sprinted after them and gained ground at once. But he was too late to stop them reaching a cab and climbing into it. Before it could be driven away, however, a sprightly old man jumped into the road and grabbed the horse’s bridle to prevent it moving.

As Leeming came running up, Caleb Andrews cackled in triumph.

‘I was watching you all the time, Sergeant,’ he explained, ‘in case you needed help. Maddy tried to stop me coming here but I was determined to get that wallet of mine back.’

Maud and Lilian Grieves were indeed sisters and they lived in a fine house in a street just off Park Lane. Now that they’d been caught, they showed neither fear nor remorse. They insisted on taking the two men to their home and handing back the stolen property they’d accumulated. When they entered the premises, Leeming and Andrews were taken to a room that was filled with the spoils of the two pickpockets. Laid out on tables like museum exhibits were dozens and dozens of wallets, purses, handbags and other assorted items. Andrews spotted his wallet and dived forward to reclaim it.