Edward Marston - Blood on the line

‘Money is no problem,’ said Oxley, easily.

‘Then that makes the choice much easier. New York is a city of neighbourhoods. Some are safe, others are dangerous and others again are nothing but urban jungles with gangs roaming through them. For instance, you don’t want to go anywhere near Five Points. That’s completely lawless. Like London, I guess, there are places where crime just thrives.’

‘It’s the same in Manchester,’ said Irene, thinking of her father’s lodging. ‘There are some districts where a woman would never dare venture out alone.’

‘That’s shameful,’ opined Libby.

‘It’s the fault of our police,’ said Oxley, righteously. ‘There simply aren’t enough of them to keep major centres of population under control. We have far too many places where there’s no respect at all for law and order.’

‘That’s the basis of a civilised society,’ asserted Finn.

‘I couldn’t agree with you more, Herschel.’

‘Work hard, live within the law and attend church regularly. Those are the three guiding stars in my life.’

‘You always told me I was your guiding star,’ teased Libby.

Finn patted her hand. ‘You are, honey.’

‘Now find these good folks a hotel where they can stay.’

‘Yes,’ said Oxley, taking out a pad and pencil. ‘I can’t tell you how grateful Irene and I are to make such dear friends. You’ve turned this voyage into a joy. Now where would you advise us to stay?’

‘Before I tell you that,’ said Finn, responding to a nudge from his wife, ‘there’s something I must ask you. It will settle a wager I have with Libby. I hope the question won’t embarrass you.’

‘Not at all,’ said Irene.

‘Ask whatever you wish,’ added Oxley.

Finn leant forward. ‘Are you newly married?’

Oxley held Irene’s hand and she pretended to look coy. They exchanged an affectionate glance then nodded in unison.

‘There you are, Libby,’ said Finn, triumphantly. ‘I was right.’

‘I concede defeat, Herschel.’ Libby turned to the others. ‘My husband is never wrong about people. The moment he saw you, he said that you were on honeymoon. I do hope we’re not monopolising your time but we find you such delightful company.’

‘The feeling is mutual,’ said Oxley with his most charming smile. ‘We can’t tell you how much we look forward to seeing you every day.’

Herschel and Libby Finn chortled. They were hooked.

The voyage was not without its setbacks. Two days away from her destination, the Jura was caught in a violent storm that lashed her with rain, battered her with gale-force winds and turned the sea into an apparently endless switchback ride. The noise was ear-splitting. Leeming felt that Mother Nature was trying to deafen him before drowning him in the depths of the ocean. He could not believe that the vessel would ever survive such a tempest. Nor could he understand why Colbeck showed no anxiety as the ship rose high, plunged low and twisted at all manner of different angles. The ferocious rain was like a continuous firing squad aiming at the porthole in their state room. Any moment, Leeming expected it to shatter the glass and allow the sea to engulf them.

‘Why did you make me come on this voyage?’ he yelled.

‘I thought that you were enjoying it, Victor.’

‘How can anyone enjoy a storm like this?’

‘It will blow itself out before too long. Would you like a game of chess to take your mind off it?’

‘The pieces would never stay on the board.’

‘That’s nothing new,’ said Colbeck with a wicked grin. ‘Your pieces never stay long on the board when you play me. They seem to have made a suicide pact.’

As the ship listed again, Leeming clung to his chair. ‘I think that’s what we made when we agreed to sail to America. It was an act of suicide.’

‘It was a necessary response to the given situation. Wherever Oxley and Adnam go, we’ll set off in pursuit. They’re sailing on the Arethusa, remember. When they’re caught in a storm like this, they will fare even worse.’

‘Nothing could possibly be worse, sir.’

‘Yes, it could,’ said Colbeck. ‘The superintendent could be with us.’ Leeming’s laugh was a forlorn croak. ‘The Jura will not let us down, Victor. Try to ignore the discomfort.’

‘That’s like telling a drowning man to ignore the water.’

‘I find that very amusing.’

‘I find it terrifying!’ howled Leeming.

The rain eventually eased off and the wind relented. It took longer for the sea to stop slapping the vessel like a giant hand but there was noticeably less turbulence. From that point on, the voyage was blessed with good weather. Passengers were able to bask on deck again and put their fears behind them. Leeming felt as if he’d been reborn. He marked the occasion by beating Colbeck at chess for the first time. Unaware that he’d been given a certain amount of help by his opponent, he boasted about it for hours.

When they finally reached it, New York harbour was positively buzzing with activity. Crowds thronged the piers, wooden and iron vessels were safely moored and cranes were helping to unload luggage and freight. The pilot boat came out to guide the Jura to its berth. Ropes were tossed ashore and made secure. The gangplank was lowered and the passengers began to disembark. Once they’d been through customs, Colbeck and Leeming reclaimed their luggage and found a cab to take them to police headquarters. Captain Matt Riley was fascinated to learn the purpose of their visit.

‘ Both of them are killers?’ he said in surprise.

‘Both of them are killers of policemen,’ stressed Colbeck.

‘We don’t have too many female killers here, Inspector. Oh, we have our share of domestic violence, of course, and, from time to time, a wife might hit a husband a bit too hard during a fight, but that’s not what I’d call cold-blooded murder. Tell me about Miss Irene Adnam.’

Matt Riley was a mountain of a man who seemed on the point of bursting out of his uniform. His craggy face bore the marks of several brawls and his thinning hair revealed some ugly scars on his head. When he grinned, it was possible to count the number of teeth on the fingers of one hand. His first impression of Colbeck had not been a flattering one. There was the whiff of a peacock about him that Riley instinctively disliked. Five minutes of conversation with him, however, had removed all his reservations about Colbeck. The inspector was patently an efficient and dedicated man with an intelligence not often found among policemen of any nation.

They were in Riley’s office which smelt in equal parts of pipe tobacco, damp, and stale beer. It was tolerably tidy and had a series of posters pinned to the walls. Riley sat at his roll-top desk and listened to Colbeck’s account of the career of Irene Adnam. He was struck by the amount of information they’d gathered about her in such a short time. Though he was sickened by the litany of their crimes, Riley could not suppress a grin when told of the name under which they were sailing.

‘So,’ he said, exposing his surviving teeth, ‘Inspector Colbeck has come to arrest Mr and Mrs Colbeck. It’s a real family affair.’

‘The joke was their undoing,’ Colbeck pointed out. ‘Had they called themselves something else, I might never have picked them out of the passenger list on the Arethusa.’

‘I suppose it’s a kind of compliment to you, Inspector.’

‘Well, they’ll get no compliments in return,’ said Leeming, sharply. ‘They’ll travel back to England under their real names.’

‘What about you, Sergeant?’

‘I’ll go with them,’ said Leeming.

Riley grinned again. ‘Does that mean I can’t poach you to join the New York Police Department?’ he asked. ‘I can always pick out a tough man when I see one. You’d be an asset to us.’