Murder At Deviation Junction Read Online Free PDF

occurring on railway premises",'
Crystal was saying, as I spied another man advancing through the snow at the
platform end. He carried some object I couldn't make out.
        I
watched him for a while and then bent over the body, pulling the flap of the
man's topcoat and making a search of his pockets. They were all quite empty.
The last of the snow gangers was level with us now and, looking up, I saw that
he held two objects. The first was a length of rope.
        'Cut
it down from the roof beam just above him,' he said. 'Bloke hanged himself,' he
ran on, and he was looking at all of us as he spoke, making a kind of appeal.
        The
second object he held was a camera case of similar design to the one slung
about the neck of Stephen Bowman. No - although weathered, it was the very spit.
        'Found
this half-frozen into the stream,' he said. 'Just on the edge, like. It was
only a little way below the cabin -'
        The
man was shaking with cold. Everybody was eyeing him, and he didn't like it.
        'I
was making to step on it . . . use it as a stepping stone for crossing the
brook . . . Then I thought it might be his -'
        He
pointed at the bones.
        'What
is this?' said Crystal, looking from the dead man's camera case to the one hung
about Stephen Bowman's neck. 'A flaming camera club?'
        Taking
the case from the man, I turned about to look at Bowman, and the silver flask
was in his gloved hand. I opened the carrying case and took out the camera,
which was a black cube in fair condition, given where it had been. There were
round switches more or less at the corners, so that it looked as though it was
meant to move on wheels - a miniature wagon. Attached to the back of the thing
were rusted clips that ought to have held another part of it. I moved a catch
and a rubber pyramid rose up. You looked through that to take a picture.
        I had
my eyes on Bowman as I held the camera.
        His
words came slowly through the snow.
        'The
changing box is missing - the box that holds the slides.'
        'That
holds the . . . exposures?' I said.
        The
colour was all gone from Bowman's face.
        Crystal
stood stock still, his moustache collecting snowflakes at a great rate. Most of
the snow gang had had enough, and were moving away towards the station house. It
was that or become like the man in the blanket. This was not bad weather but
something more - this stuff falling from the sky was out to bury us. I looked
back at Bowman, and he was all wrong, could not hold my eye. I made a lurch
towards the station buildings. I then heard a sound which was not snow falling,
but a coloured spray flying from the mouth of Bowman. His hand wiped at his
mouth as though he'd just eaten rather than done the opposite, and looking down
at the pinkish stuff now lying on the whitened platform, I realised how
beautiful the snow had been until that moment.
        
    ----

Chapter Four
        
        Nine
hours after the discovery, I looked out of the window of the station building,
and the night air was suddenly clear, like a stopped clock. The train was long gone.
The engine had detached from it, and taken a run at the drift that lay around
the bend. It had just gone bang at the snow and had cut through it directly.
The train had then carried on towards Whitby, taking the wife and Harry with
it. They were in for a weary drag, but Lydia had made Harry a pillow with her
wrap, and they would be in time to connect with the last York train. Duty
required me to stay at Stone Farm, and Lydia had quite understood:
        'No
sense in shirking with your interview coming up.'
        She
was pushing the pace all right.
        I'd
then waded through the snow on the bank with two of the blokes from the snow
gang, and they'd showed me the cabin where the main discovery had been made. It
had been used as a shelter by the platelayers when the direction of the line
had been slightly altered years