‘I thought we were going to Manchester.’
‘That can wait until tomorrow. Given what we did today, I think we’re entitled to celebrate.’
‘Yes, we are!’
‘Are you ready to be my wife for another night?’
Irene laughed. ‘I’m ready tonight and every night.’
They got up from their table and headed for the door. As they came out of the pub, they were elated. With Irene on his arm, Oxley strode purposefully along, distributing smiles to everyone he passed and making the most of his freedom. He then pulled Irene gently into an alleyway so that he could confide something to her.
‘Remember this, my love,’ he told her. ‘You didn’t shoot a human being on that train this morning.’
‘But I did, Jerry,’ she said, earnestly. ‘You saw me.’
‘All you killed was a policeman.’
‘So?’
Oxley beamed. ‘They don’t count.’
CHAPTER THREE
As soon as they arrived in the town, they hired a cab to take them to Garrick Street, home of the Wolverhampton Borough Police Force. Roland Riggs, the duty sergeant, was a big, beetle-browed man with an instinctive dislike of anyone who tried to take over an investigation he felt should be carried out by his own men. Colbeck and Leeming were given a frosty welcome. Accustomed to such treatment, they asserted their authority and drew all the relevant information out of Riggs. They learnt the names of the two murdered policemen and heard how the both of them had been hit by a train coming in the opposite direction. What Riggs could not explain was how two of his best officers had been unable to stop the prisoner from escaping.
‘Jeremy Oxley didn’t look like a dangerous man,’ he argued.
‘I knew it was him,’ said Colbeck.
‘The inspector has had a brush with Oxley before,’ explained Leeming. ‘That’s why he was so eager to take on the case.’