The Nightingale Shore Murder Read Free Page A

traffic in volume, was considerable, and comprised the conveyance of troops to and from the Army camps on the system or to join the Armies abroad. A large number of horses, guns and stores were also conveyed. A substantial part of this business was dealt with by the ordinary passenger train services, but 27,366 special passenger trains were employed in addition. This makes an aggregate number of 80,742 special passenger and goods trains used for the purpose of the war, and if the running had been constant there would have been a train for every half hour from the day war broke out until the day the armistice was signed.’
    By the time the railways were handed back to the companies after the war, they had been working for many years at a rate, and in a role, which had never been anticipated. The railway companies complained that they were not adequately compensated for the impact of this war work on their rolling stock, and the lack of maintenance during this time. While they caught up with the backlog, a shortage of stock led to the withdrawal of restaurant cars, and the re-introduction of older forms of carriage, such as those with non-corridor compartments, especially on the suburban routes.
    Non-corridor compartments meant that passengers could not change compartments once the journey had started, except at station stops. Florence’s compartment had no corridor, and so no escape route. Her train was not the luxurious Brighton Belle, with its Pullman carriages and electric lighting. It was an ordinary gas-lit compartment, with a single door on each side leading only to the platform or the track. Perhaps if there had been a corridor on the train, Florence might have moved from her original compartment – or been able to escape from it when she needed to. Perhaps the person who attacked her would have been afraid to do so if he thought he could be discovered at any minute by passengers from a neighbouring carriage. For although the compartment had been empty when Florence and Mabel first joined the train at Victoria, just before the train left they were joined by another passenger.
    Mabel had stepped into the carriage with Florence to pass the time until the train was due to leave. They had arrived just after three o’clock in the afternoon, and the scheduled departure time was twenty past three. So after finding the compartment, Mabel put Florence’s suitcase under the seat, leaving her with a large dispatch box, her umbrella and a black silk handbag. Florence, still wearing her fur coat and hat, took the corner seat on the ‘off-side’ – furthest from the platform – facing the engine. She and Mabel talked until a few minutes before twenty past three. That was when a man opened the train door and joined them in the compartment, closing the door behind him. He looked about 28 years old, and was five feet seven or eight inches tall, clean shaven and of slight build. He wore a brown suit of a light cloth, and, unusually on a cold January afternoon, he had no overcoat. He also appeared to have no luggage. Mabel said goodbye to Florence, opened the door and returned to the platform. This would be her last conversation with her friend of more than 25 years. Mabel waited on the platform, looking in at the window, which was open, until the train moved away.
    The train leaving Victoria was a long one, made up of 10 carriages behind the steam locomotive. Although usually crowded, especially in mid-week and at weekends, on this Monday afternoon in January the train was not busy. The journey was non-stop to Lewes in East Sussex, though the train slowed to 30 miles per hour to pass through Gatwick and Three Bridges, to the north and east of Crawley. The route continued through the Balcombe Forest and over the Ouse Valley viaduct, through Hayward’s Heath, Burgess Hill and on down to Lewes. After Lewes, the next stop was Polegate Junction, where the train divided; four carriages would go on to