Edward Marston - Ticket to Oblivion

‘It’s for you,’ she said.

Her friend drew back. ‘It’s not from him , is it?’ she said, fearfully. ‘If it is, I don’t even want to touch it. Open it for me, Dolly.’

‘It has your name on it.’

‘Just find out who sent it.’

Dolly opened the letter and saw Colbeck’s name at the bottom. When she read what he’d written in his neat hand, she let out a whoop of surprise.

‘What is it?’ asked the artist.

‘Inspector Colbeck has sent news that he felt Lucinda should hear.’ She handed the letter to her friend. ‘Take it, please. It will cheer you.’

When she read the letter, Lucinda shuttled between joy and disbelief, thrilled that the man she hated had been killed yet uncertain that such a miracle could really have occurred. George Vaughan was baffled. He looked to Dolly for enlightenment.

‘Lucinda’s prayers are answered,’ she told him. ‘Mr Tunnadine is dead.’

Euston station was filled with its customary pandemonium when the detectives arrived there. Victor Leeming had been bracing himself against the possibility of being away from home for days but he realised how selfish his concern was. The inspector was in the same position, leaving a wife behind him for an unspecified period. Colbeck would suffer the same pangs of separation.

‘It’s time I called you to mind, sir,’ said Leeming.

Colbeck grinned. ‘I flattered myself that I was always in your thoughts, Victor.’

‘You’ll feel sad to leave your wife behind you while we go to Crewe.’

‘No, I won’t.’

‘You’ll miss her, surely?’

‘Not this time,’ said Colbeck. ‘Madeleine is coming with us.’

Leeming was taken aback. It was true. Madeleine had been waiting for them by the bookstall. When she saw them coming, she walked over to them to receive a kiss from her husband and a look of astonishment from Leeming. Colbeck bought the tickets, then led them to the appropriate platform. The train was already waiting for them so they found an empty compartment and climbed in. Having escaped the hullabaloo outside, Colbeck was able to justify the step he’d taken.

‘The two ladies have been through a hideous experience,’ he said. ‘They’ve not only been abducted and used as pawns by these men. They witnessed the murder of someone they knew well. Such an event would unnerve anyone.’

‘It would terrify me,’ confessed Madeleine. ‘You’ll remember how upset I was in similar circumstances.’

‘If and when we rescue them, they’ll be distraught.’

‘They’ll be distraught and distracted, Robert.’

‘With the best will in the world, Victor, you and I may not be the ideal comforters.’

‘I see what you mean, sir,’ said Leeming. ‘They need another woman.’

‘Fortunately, Madeleine was at hand.’

‘I think you might have phrased that differently,’ she complained. ‘I’m not simply there like an umbrella that can be reached out of the stand on a rainy day. I’m grateful for the chance to help but I’ll not be taken for granted.’

Colbeck was penitent. ‘I take back what I said without hesitation.’

‘I think you should.’

‘You can offer a priceless service to us, Madeleine, far greater than any umbrella could manage. There’s no doubting the fact that Imogen Burnhope and her maid will be relieved to see Victor and me, but I fancy that they’ll be even more pleased to set eyes on you.’

Rhoda Wills wedged the chair against the door, then they shoved the bed against it to add more resistance. She opened the window, looked down, then signalled to Imogen.

‘There’s nobody about. You go first.’

‘It’s too dangerous, Rhoda.’

‘It’s far more dangerous to stay here. You saw what they did to Mr Tunnadine. Do you want to end up like that?’ Imogen crossed to the window and looked out with trepidation. ‘Yes, it may look difficult but think of the number of times you’ve ridden a horse and taken it over a fence. That needs a lot of courage. Show the same bravery now,’ urged Rhoda. ‘Lower yourself onto the roof below, work your way along it, then climb down the drainpipe to the ground.’

‘I can’t do it,’ said Imogen, pulling back. ‘It’s impossible in this dress.’

‘Lift it up and tuck it in. That’s what I’ll do.’

‘What if we fall?’

‘We won’t fall if we take care. Please hurry. They’ll be here any moment.’

Imogen was in two minds. Part of her wanted to follow her maid’s bold plan of escape. Their room was on the first floor. The roof of an extension was only feet below. It would be relatively easy to climb onto it. Getting down to the ground from there would be more problematical. Rhoda was so eager to get away that she was even prepared to jump from the roof. Imogen’s desire for escape was balanced by her fear of injury and retribution. Even if she got to the ground without tearing her dress or breaking an ankle, she couldn’t expect to outrun the two men. They would catch the fugitives and punish them accordingly. Rhoda’s scheme consisted of leaving the hotel and hiding nearby but they had no idea where they were or what cover was available.

‘We must go now,’ insisted Rhoda, trying to instil some confidence in her. ‘What they have in mind for us may be far worse than what we’ve already suffered. They think they’ve broken our spirits, but they haven’t.’

‘No,’ said Imogen, reviving. ‘They haven’t.’

‘I’ll help you out of the window.’

‘You go first, Rhoda. I’ll follow you.’

Clambering onto the roof with a dress to hamper her was not easy but Rhoda did it eventually. She turned to help Imogen, advising her not to look down and guiding her with both hands. They were now both on the roof of the extension, edging their way to the corner so that they could descend by means of a thick drainpipe. When they got to the second stage of their flight, they heard an ominous sound. Someone was trying to get into their room. Their fortifications were holding firm but the door was being rattled with ferocity. Suddenly, the noise stopped.

Terrified of being caught, Rhoda changed her plan. She lay face down on the roof and lowered herself slowly backwards until she was hanging from the guttering. She then let go and dropped heavily to the ground, jarring both legs as she did so but causing no real injury. She begged Imogen to do the same thing and the latter copied her maid, soiling her dress as she worked her way down the roof then dangling from the guttering. Rhoda reached up to steady her.

‘Leave go now,’ she said.

Imogen obeyed and dropped to the ground, falling over but so pleased to have got free that she almost shouted with joy. Rhoda helped her up and they hugged each other excitedly.

‘We did it,’ said Imogen. ‘We did it, Rhoda.’

When they tried to run off, however, Whiteside was blocking their way.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he asked, menacingly.

The return to Crewe brought memories rushing back for all three of them. Years before, it had been the scene of an incident that set the detectives off on one of their most challenging assignments. When a trunk was being unloaded from the roof of a railway carriage, it fell and landed on a large hat box, breaking the strap so that the lid flipped open. Out of the hatbox rolled a human head. It had taken Colbeck and Leeming a long time to match a dead body to it and to identify a killer. In the later stages of the investigation, Madeleine had more than proved her worth. The severed head at Crewe station had taken them all the way to that year’s Derby at Epsom. The present case, they felt certain, would involve a different itinerary.

While he went off to the police station, Colbeck left Madeleine in the waiting room with Leeming. Sergeant Dean was very helpful, especially when he realised to whom he was talking. He’d been a humble constable when Colbeck was in the town investigating the earlier murder and had been very impressed by the thoroughness of the Railway Detective. To be able to assist him now was in the nature of an honour. Dean told his visitor everything he’d already heard from Alban Kee with a few minor discrepancies. Colbeck was curious.