Edward Marston - Railway to the Grave

Touched by her plight and by the ravaged beauty of her face, Colbeck weighed up the evidence he had already gathered.

‘I think that I can guarantee it,’ he said.

It had been a full day for Madeleine Andrews. After sending her father off to work, she’d cleared away the breakfast things and checked what was in the larder before making her shopping list. She then let in the woman who came to clean the house and dressed to go out, taking a large basket with her as she walked towards the market. Buying the week’s rations never seemed like a chore to Madeleine because she always met friends with whom she could chat and she invariably called in on her aunt. Afternoon was given over to her work and she spent a long time at her easel, bringing another vivid railway scene painstakingly to life on the canvas. Only when the light began to fade a little did she abandon her art, turning instead to the latest novel borrowed from Robert Colbeck.

Mrs Gaskell’s Cranford diverted her for an hour or so with its charming portrayal of events in a quiet Cheshire village, describing, as it did, a leisurely existence that had great appeal to her. It certainly bore no relation to the more hectic metropolitan world in which she lived. Madeleine was still engrossed in the book when she heard familiar footsteps on the pavement outside. Caleb Andrews had returned from Euston after his usual stop at a public house frequented by fellow railwaymen. He was in an affable mood when she let him in, taking off his cap and coat before slipping into the kitchen to wash off some of the day’s grime.

‘Supper will be ready soon,’ she told him.

‘It can wait until you’ve read the article.’

‘What article is that?’

‘The one about Inspector Colbeck, of course,’ he said, popping his head around the door. ‘Well, it’s not exactly about him but he’s mentioned in it.’

‘Where?’ she asked, seizing the rolled-up newspaper from the pocket of his coat. ‘What page is it on?’

‘Where else would it be but the front one?’

She saw the headline. ‘Is it this one about suicide in Yorkshire?’

His head vanished. ‘That’s it, Maddy.’

She recoiled with dismay when she read the article because it went into unabashed detail about the injuries sustained by Colonel Tarleton. While she was pleased to see a word of praise for Colbeck’s record of solving crimes relating to railways, she was sorry that he was involved with such a grisly event. It was a long article and she read it through twice. Face and hands now scrubbed, Andrews came out of the kitchen.

‘It’s something we all fear, Maddy,’ he said. ‘We’re all afraid that some fool will step out in front of us one day when we’re driving along at top speed. It could happen to any of us.’

‘The colonel was no fool, Father. He was an educated man and, according to this, he had a distinguished military career. It seems that he took his life because his wife was missing, presumed dead.’

Andrews nodded. ‘He has my sympathy. I know what losing a wife can do to you.’ He put a grateful arm around her. ‘This fellow didn’t have a daughter like you to help him through it.’

‘He has a daughter and a son. They must be horrified.’

‘Don’t forget the driver. He’s probably suffering badly as well.’

‘What made the colonel choose that way to die?’

‘Madness – it’s the only explanation. Why didn’t he shoot himself if he couldn’t carry on? Or why didn’t he drown himself in a river? That’s what I thought of doing.’

‘Father!’ she scolded.

‘It was only on the day of the funeral, Maddy,’ he said, holding up an apologetic palm. ‘It was when I realised that I’d never see your mother again that I had a moment of weakness. Luckily,’ he went on, brightening, ‘I had you to make me see sense and I’ve found a new life – for a while, anyway.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, it’s not going to last, is it? Sooner or later, you’re going to marry Inspector Colbeck and live in his house.’

‘You’ll be very welcome to visit us any time you wish,’ she said, putting the newspaper aside. ‘Robert has told you that himself.’

‘Newly married couples like their privacy.’

She gave a dry laugh. ‘I’m not sure that we’ll have much of a private life. Robert works long and irregular hours. He’s ever likely to charge off to a different part of the country at a moment’s notice.’

‘I don’t mind that – as long as he has the sense to travel on one of our trains.’

‘Don’t be silly!’

He gave her an affectionate squeeze. ‘Are you pining?’

‘I always miss him.’

‘And I daresay that he misses you. He’d better. I want my daughter missed good and proper. I don’t want a son-in-law who forgets you the moment you’re out of his sight.’

‘He’d never do that, Father.’

‘Good,’ he said. ‘No matter what I was doing, your mother was never far from my mind when she was alive. You and her were what kept me going through hard winters and long shifts. As for the inspector, he should be on his way back to London soon. The inquest is tomorrow. Once that’s over, he can catch the next train.’

‘You didn’t read the article properly, Father.’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘Then you should have realised that Robert would never leave a place where there was unfinished business. A woman is missing and feared dead. He’ll want to find her and arrest someone for the murder. It could keep him in Yorkshire for some time.’

Andrews frowned. ‘I don’t like the sound of that.’

‘It’s something we have to accept.’

‘I don’t mean him staying there,’ he explained. ‘It’s the danger he might be in. Now that he’s going to be one of the family, I’ve started to worry about him. Investigating a suicide is harmless enough but he’s also looking for a missing person.’

‘Robert has a way of finding people he’s after.’

‘Someone may decide to stop him doing that.’

‘I don’t understand,’ she said.

‘I’m talking about the killer, Maddy.’

She swallowed hard. ‘Oh, I see.’

‘He’s not going to give himself up without a fight,’ said Andrews. ‘When a man has already committed one murder, he won’t be slow to commit another. Can you hear what I’m saying to you? If he finds that missing woman, Inspector Colbeck could put himself in jeopardy.’

He was there. Colbeck sensed it. Somewhere in the crowded room was the man who’d taken the life of Miriam Tarleton. He scanned the faces of those who’d come to give testimony, those who sat on the jury and those who’d packed the coroner’s court out of sadness or curiosity. There was no sign of an obvious killer and no hint of a troubled conscience. Whoever had done the deed was unaffected by feelings of guilt. It made Colbeck even more determined to catch him.

Seated near the front with Leeming, he was able to see at close quarters the main participants in the inquest. The coroner controlled the proceedings, a tall, stooping man of advanced years who peered over the top of his pince-nez with mild alarm at the way even more people were trying to get in. Colbeck had a first sighting of the colonel’s children. Eve was a study in bereavement, mourning the death of her stepfather and still poleaxed by the disappearance of her mother. Adam had the courtesy to keep his head bowed but Colbeck thought he detected the ghost of a smile on his lips. Others were patently consumed by grief but it had not yet touched Adam Tarleton. He was detached from the whole event.

While he felt sorry for Eve Doel, Colbeck was more concerned about Edward Tallis. Since his visit the previous day to the solicitor, the superintendent had been preoccupied and uncommunicative. Saying nothing about what passed between him and Clifford Everett, he showed scant interest in what his colleagues had learnt from their respective conversations with Bertram and Agnes Reader. Tallis looked ill, visibly bracing himself for the ordeal of being called as a witness.