Edward Marston - Blood on the line
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- Название:Blood on the line
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‘I hope that you catch him soon, Inspector,’ said the clerk.
‘We’ll do our best,’ promised Colbeck.
‘Until he’s under lock and key, nobody will feel safe when they travel on the railway.’
‘I never feel safe on a train,’ said Leeming under his breath.
Hiring a cab, the detectives were driven to the tunnel where the murder victims had been tossed onto the line. They climbed a fence and walked across the track. A railway policeman emerged from the tunnel and ordered them to leave at once. His manner became more respectful when he heard that he was talking to detectives from Scotland Yard. His job was to guard that end of the tunnel to prevent those of ghoulish disposition from seeking out the exact point at which the policemen had been mangled by an oncoming train. The other end of the tunnel was also under supervision.
Lighting a lamp, the man used it to guide his way into the gloom of the tunnel. Colbeck and Leeming walked in single file behind him, their footsteps echoing in the void. When they heard a distant train approaching, they swiftly flattened themselves against the dank wall. The noise got closer and closer, then there was an explosion of sound as the locomotive plunged into the tunnel. The train was only feet away when it shot past, deafening them momentarily and creating a gust of wind that scooped up the dust from the ground. Colbeck and the policeman took it in their stride but Leeming was scared.
‘That was too close for comfort,’ he complained.
‘You’d never make a railwayman, Victor,’ said Colbeck.
‘It’s dangerous being in here.’
‘Yes, it is.’ Colbeck brushed dust from his sleeves. ‘My coat will get filthy if that happens again.’
Their guide led them eventually to the spot where the corpses had been found. He held up the lantern so that they could see that there was still blood on the line. The bodies had been sliced apart by a speeding train. Bob Hungerford, alive when hurled out of the compartment, had died under the wheels of a locomotive. Anxious to get away from the place, Leeming kept glancing up and down the tunnel, wondering from which direction a train would come next. Colbeck, meanwhile, crouched beside the track and ran a hand across it. He did not envy Sergeant Riggs the task of breaking the bad news to the two wives. Reporting a death of any kind to family members was a dismal undertaking and Colbeck had done it many times. Having to pass on details of a horrific murder made it far more disturbing for all concerned. The visit to the tunnel served to reinforce his vow to catch the killers.
‘Right,’ said Colbeck, standing up. ‘There’s nothing more we can do here. We have to get to Birmingham.’
‘Why?’ asked Leeming.
‘I want to look at the compartment in which the crime took place.’
‘What can that tell us, Inspector?’
‘I don’t know until we get there.’
They retraced their steps and were grateful that no other trains powered their way through the tunnel. When they got back to their cab, Colbeck asked the driver to take them to the nearest railway station. At Bescot Junction, they caught a local train to Birmingham and got out at New Street. On their last visit to the city, they had arrested a silversmith and his female accomplice, both of whom had later been hanged for their part in a gruesome murder. The place also held happier memories for Colbeck. It was in the wake of the arrest in the Jewellery Quarter that he had proposed to Madeleine and sealed their betrothal by buying her an engagement ring.
There was no occasion to venture into the city this time. What they wanted was the carriage that had been detached from the train driven by Caleb Andrews a day earlier and shunted into a siding. It was guarded by a railway policeman who had less respect for London detectives than the man who’d taken them into the tunnel. Surly and uncooperative, he had to be put firmly in his place by Colbeck. Still glaring at them mutinously, he pointed out the relevant compartment. Colbeck climbed up into it with ease then offered a hand to pull Leeming in after him.
‘There we are, Victor,’ he said, pointing to a bloodstained coat. ‘There’s evidence here, after all. This must have been discarded by Oxley before he fled.’ He picked the coat up by the collar and looked at the name inside it. ‘This was made by a reputable tailor and you can see its quality. Oxley makes a point of dressing well.’
Leeming looked at the garment. ‘That coat gives me a good idea of his size. He’s about my height but somewhat slimmer.’
‘He couldn’t be seen wearing this when he left the train. That means his accomplice probably brought another one for him to wear. She’s obviously a thoughtful lady.’
‘She’s thoughtful and she’s murderous,’ said Leeming as he studied the bloodstains on the seat.
Putting the coat down, Colbeck sat on the other side of the compartment. ‘She must have been here when they set off,’ he ventured. ‘Oxley and the two policemen were opposite. Even if she had no experience of firing a gun, she could hardly have missed from such close range. But I suspect that most of this blood was shed by Constable Hungerford. My guess is that she hit him with the butt of the pistol. He must have been knocked out before they could heave him off the train.’
‘We’re dealing with a very desperate woman, sir.’
‘Yet one who must have looked unthreatening at the time. She caught the policeman completely off guard. Had their suspicions been aroused by her appearance, they might still be alive now.’
Colbeck went through an elaborate mime, shooting someone opposite then getting up and pretending to take part in a struggle with an invisible assailant. He then opened the door and dragged a body across to it. Satisfied that he had reconstructed the crime with some accuracy, he shut the door again.
‘What do we do now, Inspector?’ asked Leeming.
‘We go our separate ways, Victor.’
‘Oh?’
‘You can return to London to report to the superintendent. Rehearse what you’re going to say beforehand. That way, he won’t unsettle you so much.’
Leeming rolled his eyes. ‘Mr Tallis was born to unsettle me.’
‘Console yourself with the thought that you can see your wife and family again this evening. I know how much you hate to spend a night away from Estelle and the children.’
‘I miss them, Inspector. Wait until you get married. You’ll begin to understand then.’
Colbeck smiled. ‘I already do, I assure you.’
‘Where will you be?’
‘I’ll be searching for Oxley’s accomplice.’
‘But you have no idea where to start.’
‘Yes, I do,’ said Colbeck. ‘You heard what Constable Marner told us. She’s a Manchester girl.’
‘It’s a big city, sir. You could spend a lifetime hunting for her there. And that’s assuming that she’s actually in Manchester.’
‘It doesn’t matter if she is or if she isn’t, Victor.’
Leeming was baffled. ‘I don’t follow.’
‘If she’s working with Jerry Oxley, the chances are that she’s no novice. He’d always choose someone with experience.’
‘So?’
‘She’ll have a criminal record,’ said Colbeck. ‘The police up there will know of her even if they’ve never managed to arrest the woman. I want to put a name to her face, then we can start looking for her in earnest. She’s the person who’ll lead us to Oxley,’ he added, holding up the coat once more. ‘Find her and we’ll find the man who used to wear this.’
Jeremy Oxley had learnt to travel light. When he’d committed a crime, he immediately moved away from the area and went to ground for a while before selecting his next target. In the course of his travels, he would either stay in hotels under an assumed name or in the homes of criminal associates. Since he was an expert at his trade, he always had plenty of money to buy whatever he needed and to indulge the latest women in his life. Irene had lasted much longer than any of her predecessors. She had never stayed at hotels of such quality before but quickly adapted to her good fortune. Oxley was impressed by the fact that she was the least acquisitive of his mistresses. While others had demanded jewellery and other gifts, Irene was content simply to be with him and to take part in his exploits. The thrill of acting as his accessory was enough for her.
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