‘That was Inspector Colbeck’s doing,’ argued Leeming.

Tallis bristled. ‘It was a joint effort,’ he insisted.

‘The superintendent is correct, Victor,’ said Colbeck, stepping in to rescue the sergeant from the ire of his superior. ‘Whatever we’ve achieved must be ascribed to the efficiency of this whole department. Cooperation is everything. No individual deserves to be singled out.’

Tallis was only partially mollified. It was a source of great irritation to him that he did not get the credit to which he felt he was entitled. Newspaper reports of their triumphs invariably picked out Inspector Robert Colbeck as their unrivalled hero. It was the Railway Detective who claimed all the attention. Tallis could only smoulder impotently in his shadow.

The three men were in the superintendent’s office, blissfully free from cigar smoke for once. Seated behind his desk, Tallis, a former soldier, was seething with outrage at the latest news. He wanted instant retribution. The detectives sat side by side in front of him. Leeming, always uneasy in the presence of the superintendent, wanted to leave at once. Colbeck pressed for more information.

‘Did the telegraph give the name of the escaped prisoner?’ he asked, politely.

‘No,’ snapped Tallis.

‘What about the letter from the LNWR?’

‘I think there was a mention in that — though, shamefully, the two murder victims were not named. The villain takes precedence over them, it seems.’ He put down the telegraph and looked at the letter. ‘Yes, here we are. The killer’s name is Oxley.’

Colbeck was stunned. ‘Would that be Jeremy Oxley, by any chance?’

‘No Christian name is given, Inspector.’