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.’
Madeleine closed the door after him then went back upstairs.
‘Is there anything I can get you, Father?’ she said.
‘A pair of crutches.’
‘The doctor told you to stay in bed.’
‘I’ll die of boredom if I’m trapped in here much longer.’
‘You’ve had plenty of visitors,’ Madeleine reminded him. ‘Frank Pike came yesterday, so did Rose. Today, it was Gideon’s turn.’
‘He’d be here every day if he had some encouragement.’
She inhaled deeply. ‘You know how I feel on that score.’
‘Give the lad a chance, Maddy. He dotes on you.’
‘Yes,’ she said, sadly, ‘but I do not dote on Gideon.’
‘Your mother didn’t exactly dote on me at first,’ he confided with a nostalgic sigh, ‘but she took me on and – God bless her – she learnt to love me in time. I think I made her happy.’
‘You did, Father. She always said that.’
‘I miss her terribly but I’m glad that she’s not here to see me like this. I feel so helpless.’ He peered up at her. ‘Gideon will be a driver one day, Maddy – just like me. You could do a lot worse.’
‘I know that.’
‘So why do you give the poor man a cold shoulder?’
‘I try to be polite to him.’
‘He wants more than politeness.’
‘Then he wants more than I am able to offer,’ she said.
His voice hardened. ‘Gideon is not good enough for you, is that it?’
‘No, Father.’
‘You think that you are above marrying a railwayman.’
‘That’s not true at all.’
‘I brought you up to respect the railway,’ he said with a glint in his eye. ‘It served me well enough all these years, Maddy. Your mother was proud of what I did for a living.’
‘So am I.’
‘Then why are you giving yourself these airs and graces?’
‘Father,’ she said, trying to remain calm, ‘the situation is simple. I do not – and never could – love Gideon Little.’
‘You’ve set your sights higher, have you?’
‘Of course not.’
‘I’m not blind, Maddy,’ he told her. ‘Something has happened to you over the past few days and we both know what it is. Run with your own kind, girl,’ he urged. ‘That’s where your future lies. Why look at a man who will always be out of your reach?’
‘Please!’ she said. ‘I don’t wish to discuss this any more.’
‘I only want to stop you from getting hurt, Maddy.’
‘You need rest. I’ll leave you alone.’
‘Stick to Gideon. He’s one of our own. Be honest with yourself,’ he said. ‘No man in a silk top hat is going to look at you.’
Madeleine could take no more. Her feelings had been hurt and her mind was racing. Holding back tears, she opened the door and went out.
Superintendent Tallis did not even bother to knock. He burst into Colbeck’s office in time to find the Inspector poring intently over a copy of the Illustrated London News. Colbeck looked up with a dutiful smile.
‘Good afternoon, sir,’ he said.
‘Where have you been, Inspector?’
‘To the Kilsby Tunnel and back.’
‘I know that,’ said Tallis, leaning over the desk at him. ‘Why did you not report to me the moment that you got back?’