Murder on the Brighton Express (19 page)

Colbeck took the sergeant into his office so that they could talk without interruption. He gave Leeming an abbreviated account of his conversation with Tallis then turned his attention to the day ahead.

‘We’ll have to catch the Brighton Express,’ he said.

‘I’m not looking forward to that, sir,’ confessed Leeming. ‘I’ll keep thinking about what happened last Friday.’

‘The line has been repaired and the debris removed.’

‘You can’t remove my memories so easily.’

‘No,’ said Colbeck, sadly. ‘The disaster will be printed indelibly on the minds of many people. Those passengers set out on what should have been a routine journey and ended up in a catastrophe.’

‘Thanks to Dick Chiffney.’

‘We have to prove that. What’s the situation with Josie Murlow?’

‘She’s vanished, sir,’ said Leeming. ‘I had a man watching her house but she never returned to it. She and Chiffney have obviously gone into hiding elsewhere.’

‘Have you circulated a description of her?’

‘Yes, Inspector – every policeman in the area is looking for her. Josie Murlow is a difficult person to mistake, as you saw for yourself. If she does break cover, someone will spot her.’

‘Chiffney is the person we really want,’ said Colbeck, ‘and we lack precise details about his appearance. All we know is
that he’s very unprepossessing and has a bad squint.’

‘I know something else about him, sir,’ recalled Leeming, rubbing the back of his head. ‘Chiffney hits hard.’

‘We must strike back even harder.’

‘He won’t be able to sneak up on me next time. It’s the thing about this investigation that really fires me up – the chance to meet up again with Dick Chiffney.’

‘That chance may come sooner than you expect, Victor.’

‘I hope so.’

‘Who knows?’ said Colbeck. ‘By the end of the day, you might well have had the satisfaction of snapping the handcuffs on the elusive Mr Chiffney.’

A night in his arms had reconciled Josie Murlow to the fact that Chiffney had been ordered to kill someone. It was not the first time he had been hired by anonymous gentlemen. She knew that he had been paid to assault people in the past and had accepted that without a qualm. Chiffney liked fighting. He might as well make some money with his fists. Murder, however, was another matter and she had been frightened when she first realised what he had been engaged to do. Now that she had grown used to the idea, however, it did not seem quite so unnerving. Indeed, it gave her a perverse thrill.

What still troubled her was her own position. Knowing of his intentions without reporting them to the police meant that she was condoning Chiffney’s actions. In law, therefore, she would be seen as an accessory. Josie shuddered to think what would happen if they were ever caught but she consoled herself with the belief that it was almost impossible. Chiffney had convinced her that there was little risk attached to the enterprise. He simply had to strike decisively then withdraw
from the scene. Payment would then follow.

Lying in bed, Josie wallowed in the comfortable certainty that they would not be caught. All that she had to do was to trust her man. He had, after all, bought her the necklace out of his first earnings and other gifts would soon come. Abandoning her house did not worry her. She had long ago grown weary of its lack of space and its endless deficiencies. Everything she valued had been taken from the place in a series of midnight visits. As well as bringing all of her clothing and her trinkets, Chiffney had even collected her favourite sticks of furniture. Henceforth, they would share a far better lodging.

As she gazed up at him, Chiffney was reaching for his jacket before slipping it on. On impulse, Josie heaved herself out of bed.

‘Let me come with you, Dick,’ she said.

‘You stay here, my darling.’

‘But I’m your woman. I want to be at your side.’

‘The police could be out looking for you.’

‘They won’t be looking for me in Brighton,’ she argued. ‘If you hail a cab outside the house, nobody will see me going to the station. Now we’ve got money,’ she went on, getting carried away, ‘we can travel first class. I’ve never done that before.’

‘This is something I have to do on my own, Josie,’ he said.

‘I know that, Dick, and I won’t get in your way. When the time comes, you simply leave me and go about your business. Afterwards, I could be a help to you.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘I’m like a disguise,’ she explained, grinning away. ‘A man and a woman together look respectable. Nobody would
give us a second glance. When you’re on your own – even in that new suit you bought – people will notice that face of yours and those big, rough hands. You don’t look quite so respectable then, Dick.’

He was tempted. ‘That’s a good point, Josie.’

‘Can I come with you, then?’

‘He won’t like it. He told me to come on my own. If he realises you know more than you ought to, the gentleman might call the whole thing off. No,’ he concluded, ‘it’s too risky.’

‘There’s no need for him to see me.’

‘I’m sorry, my love. You’ll have to stay here.’

‘I won’t be cooped up again,’ she said, gazing around with a flash of anger. ‘Look at the place – there’s hardly room to move since you brought all my things here.’

‘You can go downstairs and sit in the kitchen.’

‘I want to be with you, Dick.’

He sniffed. ‘I can’t take that chance.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because you’d be a distraction,’ he said. ‘Instead of keeping my mind on what I had to do, I’d be worrying about you. It’s no good, Josie. I have to go alone.’

‘All right,’ she suggested, bargaining with him, ‘why don’t we both travel to Brighton separately and only meet up afterwards?’ he shook his head. ‘What’s wrong with that?’

Chiffney was blunt. ‘It’s not going to happen.’

‘But I
want
it to happen, Dick,’ she said, stamping a foot. ‘We’re in this together. I won’t be left out all the time.’

‘Stop it!’ he shouted, temper fraying.

‘Don’t you yell at me, you noisy bugger!’

‘Shut your gob and listen. There’s one very good reason
why I don’t want you anywhere near Brighton today. I have to be alone. I’ve got a job to do, Josie. I failed yesterday and the gentleman was very annoyed with me. If I let him down again, he may find someone else and I could end up without a single penny. Is that what you want?’

‘No,’ she said.

‘Then that’s the end of it.’

Josie sulked in silence. She watched him as he reached under the bed for the rifle then wrapped it in a piece of sacking. He also stuck the pistol in his belt and stuffed ammunition for both weapons in his pockets. Getting back down on his knees, he groped under the bed once more. This time, he brought out a large telescope and hid that in the sacking with the rifle. In spite of the bubbling anger she felt towards him, Josie was curious.

‘Who gave you that?’

‘He did,’ said Chiffney. ‘I need to spy out the lie of the land.’

As the train set off from London Bridge station, Victor Leeming braced himself for an uncomfortable journey. Its only virtue was that it would be a relatively short one. The previous investigation had entailed a long train journey to Crewe and back. An even earlier one had forced him to travel to France, undergoing the sustained terror of crossing the Channel by boat before committing himself to the rattling uncertainty of the French railways. All things considered, the Brighton Express was the lesser of many evils. At least he was in the hands of his fellow-countrymen.

‘Don’t look so anxious,’ said Colbeck, seated opposite him in an otherwise empty carriage. ‘There’s no danger. Lightning
doesn’t strike twice in one place.’

‘Then the accident could happen at another spot on the line.’

‘There’ll
be
no accident, Victor.’

‘Then why do I feel so unsafe?’

‘You simply haven’t adjusted to rail travel as yet.’

‘I never will, Inspector,’ said Leeming, watching the fields scud past. ‘I can never understand why you like trains so much.’

‘They’re passports to the future. Railways are redefining the way that we live and I find that very exciting. The concept of steam power is so wonderfully simple yet so incredibly effective.’

‘You should have been an engine driver, sir.’

‘No,’ said Colbeck, wistfully. ‘I know my limitations. I’d love to work on the footplate but I lack the skill needed. I make my own small contribution to the smooth running of the railway system by trying to keep it free of criminals. However, let’s not harp on about a subject that tends to unsettle you,’ he went on. ‘How are preparations for your wife’s birthday?’

‘They’re not going very well, sir.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘Mr Tallis will expect me on duty next Sunday unless we can bring this investigation to a close. And, no matter how much I fret about it, I still can’t decide what to buy Estelle.’

‘Do you have any ideas at all?’

‘I thought about artificial flowers in a glass case.’

‘Women always love flowers, Victor – though I think your wife might prefer real ones on her birthday. You could get them at the market.’

‘They wouldn’t last, sir, that’s the trouble. Anyway, that’s
only one present and I have to buy
two
– one from me and one from the children. I’ve been racking my brain for days.’ He became tentative. ‘I wonder if I might ask you something personal.’

‘Ask whatever you wish.’

‘What did you buy for Miss Andrews when it was her birthday?’

‘If you must know,’ said Colbeck, laughing, ‘I bought her a new easel and some artist’s materials. Not very feminine, I know, but that was what Madeleine wanted me to get her. Mind you, there were a few other gifts as well by way of a surprise.’

‘Such as?’

‘The item that really pleased her was a new bonnet.’

‘Now that’s just what Estelle needs,’ said Leeming in delight.

‘There you are – one of the birthday presents is decided.’

‘If I let the children give her the bonnet, I could give her a new shawl. It won’t be long before autumn is here and she’ll need one. Thank you, Inspector. You’ve taken a load off my mind.’

‘If you want more suggestions,’ said Colbeck as a memory surfaced, ‘you might get them from the Reverend Follis.’

Leeming was baffled. ‘What does
he
know about buying gifts for a wife, sir? You told me that Mr Follis was a bachelor.’

‘He is, Victor, but I have a strong feeling that he’s a man of vision where women are concerned.’

While he waited, Ezra Follis looked at the books on the shelf. He had given them to Amy Walcott in a particular
order so that her reading was carefully controlled. Most were anthologies of poetry and he knew how diligently she had studied them. Amy was an apt pupil. She was happy to let him make all the decisions about her education. He selected a volume and leafed through the pages, an action that was much easier to perform now that both hands had been freed from their bandages. His eye settled on a particular page. After making a note of it, he closed the book again.

He was in Amy’s house but he moved around it with easy familiarity. Leaving the drawing room, he went along the corridor and ascended the stairs to the first landing. Follis walked across to the main bedroom and tapped gently on the door.

‘May I come in yet, Amy?’ he asked.

‘I’m not ready,’ she said from the other side of the door.

‘I’ve been waiting some time.’

‘I know that, Mr Follis.

‘The servants will be back before too long.’ There was a lengthy pause. ‘Perhaps you’ve changed your mind,’ he said, tolerantly. ‘That’s your privilege. I didn’t mean to trouble you, Amy. I’ll let myself out and we’ll forget all about this, shall we?’

‘No, no,’ she said in desperation. ‘I
want
you to come in.’

‘Are you happy about that?’

‘I’m very happy.’

‘You have to be certain about this.’

‘I am, Mr Follis. I’m ready for you now.’

Turning the knob, he opened the door and stepped into the room. Amy Walcott was standing nervously in the middle of the carpet. Her feet were bare and she was wearing a long dressing gown. Pathetically eager to please, she managed a
fraught smile.

‘There’s no need to be frightened,’ he said, moving away so that they were yards apart. ‘No harm will come to you, Amy. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world – you know that.’

‘Yes, Mr Follis, I do.’

‘I’ll sit here.’ He lowered himself on to the ottoman near the window then made a gesture. ‘If you feel embarrassed, you can keep the dressing gown on.’

‘I don’t want to let you down.’

‘There’s no way that you could do that. The very fact that we’re alone here together is a joy to me, Amy. You mustn’t feel constrained to do anything that you don’t want to do.’ He smiled encouragingly. ‘You look beautiful enough, as it is.’

‘Nobody ever thought I was beautiful before.’

‘That’s because they don’t see you through my eyes. I know the full truth about you. You’re a good woman, Amy Walcott, beautiful on the inside and lovely on the outside.’

The compliment made her blush. ‘Thank you, Mr Follis.’

‘Will you read something to me?’

‘In a moment,’ she said, finding some confidence at last. ‘I want to please you first. I’ve never done this before so you must excuse me if I don’t do it properly.’ She screwed up her courage. ‘I’m going to take it off for you now.’

Undoing the belt, she opened her dressing gown and let it fall to the floor. She stood there sheepishly in a white nightdress with bows at the neck and sleeves. After feasting his eyes on her, Follis gave her a warm smile of appreciation. Her confidence began to rise.

‘What have you chosen for me this time?’ she said.

‘Keats,’ he replied, holding out the book. ‘Page sixty-six. It’s a beautiful poem for a very beautiful woman to read to
me.’

Amy Walcott was suffused with a radiant glow. He loved her.

Josie Murlow was jaded. It was scarcely an hour since Chiffney had gone and she was already chafing with boredom. There was nothing to do and nobody with whom she could talk. Walter, the old man who owned the house, was willing to give them temporary shelter but they were confined to the bedroom and the kitchen. The remainder of the property was reserved for his family. Had she been allowed to go into the garden, Josie might have been less restless. As it was, she was pacing up and down like a tiger in a cage, picking her way through the relics of her old life that had been rescued from her hovel.