The Excursion Train Read Online Free PDF Page A

Colbeck.
    ‘I tried to but he didn’t have very much to say for himself.’
    ‘What was your impression of the man?’
    ‘Well, now, let me see.’
    Felix Pritchard was a tall, rangy young man with a coat that had been torn in the course of the afternoon and a hat that was badly scuffed. A bank clerk by profession, he had pleaded illness so that he could go to the fight but he was now having second thoughts about the wisdom of doing so. Apart from having backed the wrong man and lost money that he could not afford, he had drunk far too much beer and was feeling sick. As a witness, he was less than ideal. Colbeck was patient with him. Pritchard was all that he had.
    ‘Start with his voice,’ suggested the Inspector. ‘Did it tell you where he came from?’
    ‘Oh, yes, he was a true Cockney, just like me, sir.’
    ‘Did he say what he did for a living?’
    ‘That never came up in conversation,’ said Pritchard, wishing that his stomach were not so rebellious. ‘All we talked about was the fight.’
    ‘And what did Mr Bransby have to say?’
    ‘That, barring accidents, the Bargeman was bound to win.’
    ‘Did he bet money on the result?’
    ‘Of course. We all had.’
    ‘Had he ever seen Bill Hignett fight before?’
    ‘Yes,’ said the other. ‘He was a real disciple of the sport. Told me that he’d been all over the country to see fights. It was his hobby.’
    ‘What else did he say?’
    ‘Very little beyond the fact that he did a bit of milling in his youth. I think he was handy with his fists at one time but he didn’t brag about it. He was one of those quiet types, who keep themselves to themselves.’
    ‘Tell me about the people in the carriage.’
    ‘We were jammed in there like sardines.’
    ‘How many of them did you know?’
    ‘Only one,’ replied Pritchard. ‘My brother. That’s him, sitting in the corner,’ he went on, pointing into the carriage at a youth whose face and coat were spattered with blood. ‘Cecil chanced his arm against one of those Bradford cullies and came off worst.’
    ‘Did he speak to Jacob Bransby at any point?’
    ‘No, sir. He was sat on the other side of me. Couldn’t take his eyes off the woman who was opposite him.’
    ‘A woman?’ echoed Colbeck with interest, looking around. ‘I’ve not seen any women getting back into the second-class carriages.’
    ‘She must be making her way back home by other means.’
    ‘What sort of woman was she, Mr Pritchard?’
    ‘ That sort, sir,’ returned the bank clerk.
    ‘Age?’
    ‘Anything from thirty upward,’ said Pritchard. ‘Too old for my brother, I know that, and too pricey in any case.’
    ‘Why do you say that?’
    ‘She wasn’t a common trull you might see walking the streets, sir. I mean, she was almost respectable. Except that a respectable woman wouldn’t be going on an excursion train to a fight, would she? She could only have been there for one thing.’
    ‘Did you see her at the contest?’
    ‘In that crowd?’ Pritchard gave a derisive laugh. ‘Not a chance! Besides, I didn’t look. I was too busy cheering on the Bargeman.’
    ‘Apart from Jacob Bransby, your brother and this woman, can you recall anyone else who was in that carriage with you?’
    ‘Not really, sir. They were all strangers to me. To be honest, I’ve had so much to drink that I wouldn’t recognise any of them if they stood in front of me.’ He gave a sudden belch. ‘Pardon me, Inspector.’
    ‘What happened when the train reached Twyford?’
    ‘We all got out.’
    ‘Did you see Mr Bransby leave his seat?’
    ‘I didn’t notice,’ admitted Pritchard. ‘There was a mad dash for the door because we were so keen to get out.’
    ‘Did the woman leave before you?’
    ‘Oh, no. She had to take her chances with the rest of us. Cecil and me pushed past her in the rush. That was the last wesaw of her.’
    ‘So she could have held back deliberately?’
    ‘Who knows, Inspector? If she did, it wasn’t because she’d