‘We did it!’ he shouted, spreading his arms. ‘Come here.’
‘Not until you’ve taken that coat off,’ she said, looking at it with distaste. ‘It’s covered in his blood. You can’t be seen wearing that.’ She opened the valise. ‘It’s just as well that I thought to bring you another one, isn’t it? I had a feeling that you might need to change.’
When Caleb Andrews brought the train to a halt under the vast iron and glass roof over New Street station in Birmingham, his only interest was in lighting his pipe. He puffed away contentedly, blithely unaware that two of his passengers had been murdered during the journey from Wolverhampton and that the killers had just melted unseen into the crowd.
CHAPTER TWO
Nothing upset Edward Tallis more than the murder of a policeman. As a superintendent at the Detective Department in Scotland Yard, he had devoted himself to law enforcement and felt personal grief whenever one of his officers was killed in the line of duty. Even though the latest victims had not been members of the Metropolitan Police Force, Tallis was consumed by a mingled sadness and fury. He waved the telegraph in the air.
‘I want this villain caught and caught quickly,’ he announced. ‘He has the blood of two policemen on his hands.’
‘We need more details,’ said Victor Leeming.
‘It’s up to you to find them, Sergeant.’
‘What exactly does the telegraph say?’
‘It says enough to get you off your backside and on the next train to Wolverhampton. Apart from anything else,’ said Tallis, ‘your help has been specifically requested by the London and North Western Railway. This has just arrived by messenger.’ He picked up a letter with his other hand. ‘They are mindful of the fact that we served them well in the past.’