Edward Marston - The excursion train

'I see.'

'As for the handful I mentioned, you've already met one of them.'

'Adam Hawkshaw?'

'Yes. The others wouldn't want their names to be known.'

'Is that a polite way of saying that you won't divulge them?'

'I can see why you became a detective,' said Newman with amusement. He became brusque. 'If you want us on your side, you've got to help us in return. Angel is the man we want. Find him, Inspector.'

'There are other suspects at the top of my list first.'

'An innocent man was hanged. Doesn't that matter to you?'

'It matters a great deal, Mr Newman. Innocent or guilty, his death has already provoked two murders. What other crimes are there to come?' He changed his tack. 'How well do you know Emily Hawkshaw?'

'As well as anyone, I suppose,' said Newman, hunching his shoulders. 'My wife and I were not blessed with children – Meg was struck down when she was still a young woman. Nathan let us share his family. Both of the children used to come and watch me at the forge, especially Emily. She was there every day at one time.'

'Why has she drawn away from her mother?'

'What makes you ask that?'

'I spoke to Mrs Hawkshaw earlier,' explained Colbeck. 'She was upset at the way that she and her daughter seem to have lost touch. She traced it back to the assault made by Joseph Dykes.'

'That put the fear of death into Emily.'

'Then you'd expect her to turn to her mother. Yet she didn't.'

'I know.'

'Have you any idea why that might be?'

'No, Inspector,' said Newman, sadly. 'I don't. As a matter of fact, I had a word with the girl yesterday and asked her why she spurned her mother at a time when they needed to mourn together. At first, Emily wouldn't say anything at all. When I pushed her, she told me that she wanted to be left alone because she felt ashamed at Nathan's death.'

'Ashamed?'

'She feels responsible for it somehow.'

'That's absurd.'

'She's only a young girl, after all. In her eyes, none of this would have happened if she hadn't been attacked in that lane. She ran home in tears to Nathan and he swore that he'd make Joe Dykes pay. Can you see it from Emily's point of view, Inspector?'

'Yes – she gave her stepfather a motive.'

'It helped to put him on that scaffold.'

'Was Emily at the fair that day?'

'Yes, she went with Adam.'

'Did they stay together?'

Newman chuckled. 'I can see that you don't know much about country fairs,' he said. 'It's a big event for us. We don't just go there to buy and sell. There are games, dances, races, competitions and they even put on a little play this year. Emily and Adam would have split up and enjoyed the fair in their own way.'

'Did either of them witness the argument with Dykes?'

'I can't honestly say.'

'You were the one who stopped Hawkshaw from going into the Red Lion after Dykes. You persuaded him to go home, didn't you?'

'That's right, Inspector.'

'Then why didn't either of the children go as well?'

'I've no idea. I was back in my cousin's forge by then.'

'I find it surprising that Emily, in particular, didn't go with him.'

'He was in no real state for company, Inspector. He stalked off.'

'But I'm told he was very protective towards his stepdaughter.'

'He was, believe me.' He caught sight of someone out of the corner of his eye. 'Ah,' said Newman, grimacing, 'the foreman has come out to see why I'm not earning my pay. I'll have to go, Inspector.'

'Of course. Thank you for your help.'

'If you want to talk to me again, come to my house in Turton Street. Number 10. You'll find me sitting with my wife most evenings,' he said, walking away. 'I don't go far from Meg.'

'I'll bear that in mind,' said Colbeck.

There were several moments when Madeleine Andrews regretted the impulse that had taken her to Hoxton again, but she felt obscurely that her visit might be of some help to Robert Colbeck and that made her stay. Never having been in a Roman Catholic church before, she felt like an intruder and, since she was wearing black, the charge of impostor could be levelled at her as well. The morning newspaper had printed the bare details of Jacob Guttridge's funeral. Madeleine was one of a pitifully small congregation. The widow and the other mourners occupied the front row of seats while she remained at the rear of the church.

Even from that distance, she found the service profoundly moving, conducted by Father Cleary in a high-pitched voice that reached every corner of the building without effort. The burial was even more affecting and, though she only watched it from behind one of the statues in the graveyard, Madeleine felt as if she were actually part of the event. Louise Guttridge tossed a handful of earth on to the coffin then turned away. The rest of the mourners took their leave of Father Cleary and dispersed.

To Madeleine's horror, the widow walked slowly in her direction. The interloper had been seen. Madeleine feared the worst, expecting to be castigated for daring to trespass on private grief, for attending the funeral of a man she had never known and could not possibly admire. Pursing her lips, she braced herself for deserved censure. Louise Guttridge stopped a few yards from her and beckoned with a finger.

'Come on out, please,' she said.

'Yes, Mrs Guttridge,' agreed Madeleine, emerging from her refuge.

'I thought it was you, Miss Andrews.'

'I didn't mean to upset you in any way.'

'I'm sure that you didn't. You came out of the goodness of your heart, didn't you?' She looked around. 'That's more than I can say for my son. Michael and his wife could not even bother to turn up today. You, a complete stranger, have more sympathy in you than our only child.'

'It was perhaps as well that he did stay away, Mrs Guttridge.'

'Yes, you may be right.'

'At a time like this, you don't want old wounds to be opened.'

'That's true, Miss Andrews.'

'Your son has his own life now.'

'Rebecca is welcome to him!'

Louise Guttridge's face glowed with anger for a second then she went off into a reverie. It lasted for minutes. All that Madeleine could do was to stand there and wait. She felt highly embarrassed. When she saw that Father Cleary was heading their way, Madeleine squirmed and wished that she had never dared to go to Hoxton that morning. She began to move slowly away.

'Perhaps I should go, Mrs Guttridge,' she said.

'No, no. Wait here.'

'I sense that I'm in the way.'

'Not at all,' said the other woman, taking her by the wrist. 'Stay here while I speak with Father Cleary. I need to talk to you alone afterwards.' She gave a semblance of a smile. 'And don't worry about me, Miss Andrews. Jacob has been laid to rest now and I'm at peace with myself. God has provided.'

Edward Tallis was feared for the strong discipline he enforced but he was also respected for his effectiveness. As soon as he reached London, he drafted a letter to the Home Office in response to Colbeck's request. Sent by hand, it prompted an instant response and he was able to dispatch the document to Ashford. It arrived by courier that afternoon as Robert Colbeck and Victor Leeming sat down to a late luncheon at the Saracen's Head. The Inspector took the long sheet of paper out of the envelope with a flourish.

'Here it is, Victor,' he said, unfolding it. 'The petition I wanted.'

'Well done, Mr Tallis!'

'I knew that he wouldn't let us down.'

'I never believed that the Home Secretary would bother to keep this sort of thing,' said Leeming. 'I imagined that he'd tear it into strips and use them to light his cigars.'

'You're being unfair to Mr Walpole. His duty is to consider every appeal made on behalf of a condemned man. In this case, he did not see any grounds for a reprieve.'