Blood on the Line by Edward Marston Page B

of those two policemen from Wolverhampton.’
    ‘It was an appalling crime. I feel for their families.’
    ‘It could happen to any us.’
    ‘I dispute that,’ said Peebles, beaming at him. ‘It could certainly never happen to you or Inspector Colbeck. You have an uncanny insight into people’s characters. It’s the basis of your success. Had that woman in Wolverhampton stepped into a compartment in which you were guarding a prisoner, you and the inspector would have known at once that she was there to aid him.’
    Leeming put out his chest. ‘I like to think that we would.’
    ‘Instinct and experience will always protect you.’
    ‘They’ve done so this far, Constable.’
    ‘I’ve convinced Catherine of it. That’s why she was able to accept my decision to join the police.’ Peebles heaved a sigh. ‘I’m counting the days until we get married.’
    ‘I wish you both joy,’ said Leeming.
    He spoke with sincerity. The glimpse into Peebles’private life had moderated Leeming’s criticism of him. He could not bring himself to like the Scotsman but he was more tolerant of him now. Moreover, the fact that Peebles was about to get married somehow put them on an even footing. Leeming no longer felt old enough to be his father.
    They were strolling side by side along a narrow thoroughfare that twisted and turned with serpentine unpredictability. Leeming kept a wary eye on everything and everybody they encountered, anticipating danger whenever they came to a dark alley or saw a gang of youths loitering on a corner. Peebles, meanwhile, was distracted by thoughts of his beloved, imagining how impressed Catherine would be when he told her about his sojourn in Manchester with Inspector Colbeck. Animated by inner excitement, he was completely off guard. When the attack came, therefore, Peebles was unprepared for it.
    Ironically, the incident occurred under a railway bridge. Four men who’d been lounging against the wall sprang to life and hurtled out of the shadows to confront them. Their leader had a cudgel and, to show his readiness to use it, knocked off Leeming’s top hat.
    ‘Hand over your money!’ he demanded. ‘Otherwise—’
    He got no further. Leeming’s well-aimed kick hit him in the crotch and made him double up in pain. With one of their attackers disabled, Leeming turned to a second, a burly man with a mane of red hair merging with a tufted red beard. The sergeant landed two heavy punches before the man fought back. Peebles had to deal with the other two men. One tried to grab him from behind so thatthe other could pummel away at him but the constable quickly frustrated their plan. As the attacker behind him took hold of his arms, Peebles stamped hard on the man’s toe and jerked one elbow back into his stomach. He then smashed his fist into the face of the man in front of him and made blood cascade from his nose. Following up with a series of punches to the body, he sent him reeling then turned to grapple with the man behind him.
    Leeming had already robbed his assailant of any wish to continue the fight, catching him with a relay of blows that sent him crashing back against a brick wall. When the man with the cudgel saw what was happening, he barked an order and the four of them slunk off to lick their wounds and to reflect on their folly in choosing the wrong targets. Picking up his hat, Leeming dusted it off.
    ‘I enjoyed that,’ he said with a grin. ‘It was good exercise.’
    ‘I just didn’t see them coming,’ admitted Peebles.
    ‘No matter – you acquitted yourself well. You were obviously taught how to fight in the army.’
    ‘I’ll be more careful from now on.’
    ‘I sensed there might be trouble when I saw them lurking there. Since we were outnumbered, they thought we were easy meat.’
    Peebles adjusted his coat. ‘You reacted so promptly, Sergeant.’
    ‘Forewarned is forearmed,’ said Leeming. ‘It’s something that the superintendent keeps drumming into our heads.’