Edward Marston - The Railway Detective

‘Tell me, Inspector McTurk,’ he said. ‘Do you happen to know how many bricks were used in the Kilsby Tunnel?’

‘Too bloody many!’ came the tart reply.

Leeming chose not to pursue the conversation.

Colbeck went into the tunnel to examine the full extent of the damage. He tried to work out where the gunpowder must have been when it exploded. McTurk came to stand at his shoulder.

‘By the end of the day,’ he said, ‘it will be as good as new.’

‘What about the two men who were attacked?’ asked Colbeck. ‘Are they as good as new, Inspector?’

‘They’re still a bit shaken but they’ll be back at work soon.’

‘Were they able to give a description of their assailants?’

‘No,’ said McTurk. ‘They were grabbed from behind, knocked unconscious and tied up. They didn’t even hear the explosion go off. There’s no point in talking to them.’

‘Perhaps not.’ He felt inside a hole where the brickwork had been blasted away. ‘What was the intention behind it all?’

McTurk was contemptuous. ‘I’m surprised that a man of your experience has to ask that, Inspector Colbeck,’ he said. ‘The intention is plain. They tried to close the tunnel in order to disrupt the railway.’

‘I think that there is more to it than that.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘These people do nothing at random, believe me. The explosion would have gone off at a specific time and for a specific purpose. When was the next up train due to enter the tunnel at the other end?’

‘Not long before the explosion. Fortunately, it was late.’

‘There’s your answer, Inspector McTurk.’

‘Is it?’

‘The tunnel was supposed to collapse just before the train reached it. The driver would have been going too fast to stop. The locomotive would have ploughed into the rubble and the whole train would have been derailed. That was their intention,’ declared Colbeck. ‘To block the tunnel, destroy a train and kill passengers in the process.’

‘But there were no passengers on board the train.’

‘Then what was it carrying?’

‘Goods.’

‘Any particular kinds of goods?’

‘Why do you ask?’

‘Because it may be significant.’

‘I don’t see how,’ said McTurk, irritably. ‘My information is that the wagons were simply carrying huge pieces of glass from the Chance Brothers’ Factory.’

‘Of course!’ cried Colbeck. ‘That explains it.’

McTurk looked blank. ‘Does it?’

‘I’m as mystified as Inspector McTurk,’ confessed Leeming as he joined them. ‘How can some sheets of glass provide the explanation?’

‘Think of where they would be going, Victor,’ advised Colbeck.

‘To the customer who bought them, I suppose.’

‘What’s so remarkable about that?’ said McTurk.

‘The customer in question happens to be Joseph Paxton,’ replied Colbeck, ‘the man who designed the Crystal Palace. And who had the contract for supplying all that glass? Chance Brothers.’

McTurk lifted his hat to scratch his head. ‘I’m still lost.’

‘So am I,’ said Leeming.

‘Then you have obviously not been reading all the advertisements for the Great Exhibition. What is it,’ said Colbeck, ‘but a celebration of British industry? One of the main elements in that is the primacy of our railway system. A number of locomotives will be on display — but only if the structure is finished, and that depends on the supply of the glass panels that were commissioned from Chance Brothers.’

Leeming blinked. ‘They were trying to stop the Great Exhibition?’

‘At the very least, they were doing their best to hamper the completion of the Crystal Palace,’ argued Colbeck. ‘The explosion was contrived by someone who not only wanted to put the tunnel out of action, he also hoped to delay an exhibition in which the steam locomotive will have pride of place.’

‘All I see is wanton damage,’ said McTurk, looking around.

‘Look for the deeper meaning, Inspector.’

‘I’ve tried. But I’m damned if I can spot it.’

‘What happened to the train carrying the glass?’ said Leeming.

‘I told you, Sergeant. It was late. The driver was a mile or so short of the tunnel when the explosion went off. Must have sounded like an earthquake to him.’

‘The noise would have echoed along the whole tunnel.’

‘And well beyond,’ said McTurk. ‘When the driver heard it, he slowed the train immediately. The signalmen at the other end of the tunnel were, in any case, flagging him down.’

‘So the sheets of glass were undamaged?’

‘They were taken on to London as soon as the line was cleared.’

‘Thank you, Inspector McTurk,’ said Colbeck, shaking his hand. ‘You have been a great help. Forgive us if we rush off. We need to catch the next train back to Euston.’

‘Do we?’ asked Leeming. ‘But we have not seen everything yet.’

‘We’ve seen all that we need to, Victor. The man we are after has just given himself away. I know what he will do next.’

Leaving a bewildered Inspector McTurk in his wake, Colbeck led his companion back towards Crick Station. There was a spring in the Inspector’s step. For the first time since the investigation had begun, he felt that he might have the advantage.

It was Gideon Little who told them about the incident. His ostensible reason for calling at the house was to see how Caleb Andrews was faring and to pass on details of the attack on the Kilsby Tunnel. A train on which Little had been the fireman that morning had been as far as Northampton and back. He had picked up all the news. In telling it to Andrews, he was also able to get close to Madeleine once more. She was as alarmed as her father by what she heard.

‘Was anyone hurt, Gideon?’

‘Only the railway policemen on duty,’ said Little, enjoying her proximity. ‘They were ambushed and knocked on the head.’

Andrews was rueful. ‘I know how that feels!’

‘Why would anyone damage the tunnel?’ asked Madeleine.

‘I wish I knew,’ said Little. ‘It’s very worrying. If a train had been coming through at that time, there would have been a terrible crash.’

‘Thank heaven that never happened!’

‘Railways still have lots of enemies,’ said Andrews. ‘I’m old enough to remember a time when landowners would do anything to stop us if we tried to go across their property. Boulders on the line, track pulled up, warning fires lit — I saw it all. And it was not just landowners.’

‘No,’ added Little, mournfully. ‘People who ran stage coaches feared that railways might put them out of business. So did canal owners. Then there are those who say we destroy the countryside.’

‘We are not destroying it, Gideon. Railways make it possible for people to see our beautiful countryside. The many who are stuck in ugly towns all week can take an excursion train on a Sunday and share in the pleasures that the few enjoy. We offer a public service,’ Andrews went on with conviction. ‘We open up this great country of ours.’

They were in the main bedroom and the driver was resting against some pillows. His arm was still in a sling and his broken leg held fast in a splint. An occasional wince showed that he was still in pain. Pressed for details, Little told him everything that he could about the explosion but his eyes kept straying to Madeleine, hoping to see a sign of affection that never materialised. When it was time for him to go, she showed the visitor to the door but did not linger.

‘Goodbye, Madeleine,’ said Little.

‘Thank you for coming to see Father.’

‘It was you that I came to see.’

She forced a smile. ‘Goodbye.’