He searched the pockets of the coat, waistcoat and trousers but found nothing apart from a handkerchief and an enamelled snuffbox.
‘His family needs to be informed as soon as possible,’ he said, considerately. ‘Sergeant Leeming has taken our cab. Could I prevail upon you to get me to the police station somehow?’
‘One of my servants will drive you there in the trap.’
‘Thank you.’ Colbeck glanced down at the patient. ‘I hope to find him still alive when we get back here.’
Doctor Scanlan shrugged. ‘That’s in God’s hands, Inspector.’
Alaric and Liza Bignall were both at home when Leeming arrived. The cobbler’s shop where Bignall worked was closed for renovation so he’d brought some of the boots and shoes in need of repair back to the house. He was hammering away in the garden shed when the visitor called. Liza called him into the house and introduced him to the sergeant. Bignall was impressed.
‘You’ve come all the way from Scotland Yard because someone jumped out of a train?’ he said in amazement.
‘There may be more to it than that, sir,’ said Leeming. ‘What I need you and your wife to do is to tell me what exactly happened and where you were at the time. I’ve brought this so that you can give me a precise location.’
Producing an Ordnance Survey map from his pocket, he opened it out and set it on the table. Husband and wife pored over it. After a while, Bignall jabbed his finger at a spot on the map but Liza felt that it was slightly further to the left. When they’d reached a compromise, Leeming marked the place with a pencil that he then used to make notes. Bignall recalled the events of the morning and his wife either confirmed or amended the details.
‘You are to be congratulated,’ said Leeming when the joint recitation ended. ‘You did the right thing in a difficult situation. Let me come back to something you said, sir,’ he went on, referring to his notebook. ‘According to you, the man dived from the train? Is that correct?’
‘Yes, it is,’ replied Bignall.
‘Are you certain that he didn’t jump?’
‘I am, Sergeant. My wife will confirm it.’
‘The man dived out headfirst,’ she said. ‘We both saw him.’
Leeming’s interest in the case quickened. Ready to dismiss what occurred as an act of folly on the part of Rufus Moyle, he was now forced to confront the possibility that a crime had taken place. Someone in pursuit of a hat would surely jump from a train and land on his feet before tumbling down the embankment. A man who dived might well have been pushed from behind.
‘I hope that we’ve been helpful,’ said Bignall.
‘You’ve been very helpful indeed, sir,’ said Leeming. ‘This case is not as trivial as I first thought. I’m grateful to both of you.’
As soon as he saw the return ticket in the injured man’s wallet, Colbeck felt certain that Moyle had somehow been ejected from the train. Other passengers might have seen him careering down the embankment but they couldn’t be sure from which compartment he’d been shoved out and the person responsible would hardly admit what he had done. The accident had been reported at Sheffield station and a telegraph was sent to the headquarters of the railway company. They, in turn, fearing foul play, had contacted Scotland Yard. Colbeck knew that the anonymous attacker could be hundreds of miles away. The case might never be solved.
Dropped off at the police station, he thanked the driver of the trap and went into the building. His assumptions were immediately challenged.
‘We know who was in the same compartment with him, Inspector,’ said the duty sergeant, Will Fox, ‘because he was kind enough to come here and report the accident.’
Colbeck was surprised. ‘Did he claim it was an accident?’
‘Oh, yes. There were only two of them in the compartment, apparently, and they were strangers to each other. A few miles outside Sheffield, one of them peeped out of the open window and his hat blew off. On impulse,’ said Fox, ‘he opened the door and went after it. He was well dressed, I’m told, and he obviously cherished the top hat.’
‘Then why didn’t he take more care of it? I always remove my hat before I look out of a window on a train. It saves me a lot of money and inconvenience. Mr Moyle must have known there was a risk of losing the hat.’
‘We all do odd things in some situations, sir.’
‘What was the name of the gentleman who came forward?’
‘He left his business card,’ replied Fox, picking it up from the desk and handing it to Colbeck. ‘He’s a Mr Humphrey Welling, a company director.’
‘He’s rather more than that,’ observed Colbeck when he saw the card. ‘He’s a director of the Midland Railway. Did he have business in the town?’
‘So I would imagine.’
‘Where is he now?’
‘He was planning to return home to York this afternoon.’
‘Then that’s where we’ll seek him out,’ said Colbeck. ‘We have to go to there to break the sad news to Mr Moyle’s family. We can call on Mr Welling afterwards.’ He glanced at the card. ‘What manner of man was he?’
‘Oh, he was as proper a gentleman as you could wish to meet,’ answered Fox. ‘His hair was white and he was on the stout side. I had the feeling that Mr Welling looked older than he really was. He was well educated and well spoken. He used a walking stick and seemed to be in some pain when he moved. I just wish that all our witnesses could give such clear statements.’
‘May I see exactly what he said, please?’
Fox opened the desk and took out some sheets of paper before passing them over. Colbeck read the statement with interest. Before the inspector had finished it, Leeming came into the police station. After introducing himself to the duty sergeant, he waited until Colbeck had finished.
‘Have you learnt anything new, sir?’ he asked.
‘I have indeed — what about you?’
‘Mr and Mrs Bignall were well worth the visit.’
‘I suspect that what they told you may be contradicted by what I’ve just read,’ said Colbeck, returning the statement to Fox. ‘It seems as if all roads lead to York. Let’s be on our way, shall we?’
On the train journey north, the first thing that the detectives did was to look for the spot where Moyle had lost his hat. Using the Ordnance Survey map to locate the area, they gazed through the window and noticed how steep the embankment was. The stream below was still gurgling merrily on. As he recounted what the Bignalls had told him, Leeming referred to his notebook. He described them as reliable witnesses and accepted their word without question. When he heard what the police statement had contained, however, the sergeant hoped that it was an accurate one.
‘If what Mr Welling says is true,’ he pointed out, ‘we can declare that it was a tragic accident and go back home to London.’
‘Not so fast, Victor — we need to dig under the surface first.’
‘What do you expect to find?’
‘I have no idea. That’s what makes this case so intriguing.’
‘Mr Moyle’s family is going to have the most dreadful shock.’
‘We can’t even be sure if we’re telling them the truth,’ said Colbeck, sadly. ‘When they hear that he’s been badly injured, he may, in fact, already be dead.’
‘And all because of a top hat,’ sighed Leeming.
‘Never underestimate the importance people attach to certain possessions. Since you never go to the theatre, you’ll be unfamiliar with Shakespeare’s Othello.’
‘Is that the play with the three witches, sir?’
‘No, Victor, it features a man who’s driven to murder his wife because she appears to have given away the handkerchief he pressed upon her as a gift. What if the top hat was a gift from Mrs Moyle?’ continued Colbeck, thoughtfully. ‘That would lend substance to the theory that he felt impelled to go after it.’ He smiled at Leeming. ‘What’s your opinion of Sheffield?’