‘Thank you General, for a truly inspiring speech. And now a word to the contestants. Those of you who have not yet collected your race numbers, please go to the table on my left, where these will be issued.’ He indicated a table that had been set up nearby piled with numbered sheets of paper, and manned by a club member. ‘The first event will commence in a few minutes and will be a parade of the most novel and interesting new machines, ridden by members of the Bayswater Bicycle Club and representatives of the manufacturers. ‘I now hand you over to my good friend Mr Phineas Vance.’ A gentleman in conventional clothes joined Toop on the platform and was given the speaking trumpet. Slightly built and aged about thirty, with short light brown whiskers, there was an air of melancholy about Phineas Vance as he surveyed the field. A fresh sadness creased his face, the knowledge perhaps that however hard he looked, his brother Morton would not be there, and never could be.
The race entrants had formed a queue to obtain their numbers. Frances realised that since the uniforms made it hard to distinguish one man from another when riding at speed, it made sound sense for each rider to have a card attached to the back of his coat if the placings of a race were in dispute. She saw Mr Grove in line being given the number six.
A parade of machines had emerged from the visitors’ enclosure and was being pedalled up to the course. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ said Vance in a clear but gentle voice, ‘may I draw your attention now to the splendid spectacle before you. You will be seeing the finest in bicycles and tricycles, some of which are novel new designs that will make the experience of travelling more comfortable than ever before. Our leading manufacturers of machines, parts, and everything the bicycling gentleman or tricyling lady might require, have brought their newest creations and are eager to show them to you.’
Frances decided to watch, partly out of natural curiosity, partly in the vain hope that someone might have invented a bicycle a lady could ride, but mainly because she thought it would offer some clue as to the direction in which inventors were thinking, and suggest what it was Sir Hugo might have devised that a foreign power would covet enough to steal.
‘First,’ said Phineas Vance, as the parade began with what looked like a conventional high-wheeler, ‘we have Mr James Jepson, demonstrating the Coventry Roadster, with the new Salisbury improved noiseless hub lamp. Suitable for use in all weathers; this lamp cannot be detached by the vibration of the machine. Those of you who have lost your lamps in the dark will know the value of this device.’
Jepson was granted polite applause, and Miss Hicks waved a pink and yellow handkerchief as he passed by, which he acknowledged with the slightest of nods. He was followed by another man on a bicycle.
‘And now we have Mr Rook riding a Number One Viaduct, fitted with the very latest in saddles,’ continued Vance. ‘This invention is so secret that no one but Mr Rook is allowed to ride it, but I am given to understand that with a little more development it will be available to us all. All I am permitted to say is that it has been constructed by a special patented process on the pneumatic principle, affording a most pleasant and comfortable ride.’ Mr Rook paraded past with a blissful smile.
The next device was like nothing Frances had ever seen before, a tricycle ridden by George Farrow, but in a standing position. ‘This next machine ridden by Mr Farrow is the Rucker tricycle. As you know, in the standard tricycle the rider is seated and moves the treadles by the extension of the legs. In the Rucker model, however, there is no seat; the rider stands above the treadles and the motion is more similar to walking, thus producing greater power with less fatigue. The manufacturers claim that this is an improvement not just for an age, but for all time. This is the tricycle of the future, and you have seen it here today!’ Miss Hicks greeted young Farrow with a wave, but unlike Jepson he took care not to notice her.
Frances might have thought that that was the strangest invention she would see that day, but still stranger was to follow.
‘And now, Mr Ross-Fielder riding the patented American Star bicycle. No, ladies and gentleman, he is not riding it the wrong way about, this machine really does have a front wheel smaller than the back. It is operated by treadles not pedals, and is guaranteed to prevent the danger of tipping forward, the fear of which prevents nervous gentlemen attempting to ride. This arrangement also enables the same machine to be ridden by gentlemen of different sizes. I have been told that an enterprising American is already experimenting with fitting out this model so it may be powered by steam. Is this the bicycle of the future? Time will tell.’ Ross-Fielder, not looking entirely happy with his mount, nevertheless rode it well and so determined was his concentration that one might have excused him for not noticing Miss Hicks.
‘The last item in this exciting parade is the new family sociable, a special adaptation of the Premier machine, driven by Mr Goring and Miss Farrow. It seats two persons in the front, but at the rear is a bench suitable for luggage. A perfect arrangement for friends who wish to take a holiday, or even dare I say it, married persons on a day’s outing who might like to seat smaller persons behind them.’ There was a titter from the audience at this suggestion. ‘Despite the size of the machine, it is very light and easily directed, and a pleasant ride may be achieved without fatigue.’
Mr Goring and Miss Farrow made a handsome couple. The lady was very young indeed, a dainty creature arrayed in pale blue silk, carrying a tiny parasol, her hair an arrangement of golden curls so perfect that they might have been carved from marble and gilded, nestling in a frilled bonnet fastened by a pearl pin. She was clearly more interested in the impression she was creating than making any great effort to drive the sociable. Her tiny feet barely touched the pedals, not that it made much difference, given Mr Goring’s powerful limbs. Miss Hicks gave a fitful flutter of her handkerchief as they passed by, but it was clear that she knew that her rival had conquered that particular field.
After a circuit of the course, the machines headed back to the visitors’ enclosure.
‘And now, ladies and gentleman,’ announced Vance, ‘the first competition of the day will commence in ten minutes. A prize will be awarded for the best turned-out machine of any kind.’
Mr Vance left the dais and was joined by two ladies, one of an age to be his mother, the younger tall and proud, with long auburn hair and fierce blue eyes. She took his arm and held it tightly, and he pressed her hand. As the sociable carrying Mr Goring and Miss Farrow moved away she glared at it, with an expression of purest hatred.
At last, Cedric was back, and joined Frances at the perimeter of the course. To her relief he appeared to be the bearer of good news. ‘Sir Hugo is safely delivered,’ he said. ‘Jepson looked him over and thought he would recover, but in view of his age he will need rest and care. Jepson agreed with your diagnosis, by the way. Morphine. He is anxious to avoid any suggestion of attempted felo de se in such a respected gentleman. It is no secret that Sir Hugo used an embrocation for his back, but he may have obtained morphine by some means or other, and men without medical knowledge have been known to overdose themselves by mistake. Jepson absolutely denies providing Sir Hugo with morphine, and I am obliged to believe him. He will stay with his patient for the time being, and his wife will help with a little tender nursing. He suggested that because of the risk of Sir Hugo over-taxing his strength, he should not be permitted to leave until this evening, when he can return home, and Mrs Pirrie and Waterfield will be available to look after him, and I agreed.’
‘That is a considerable relief. All that has happened in your absence is the opening speech made by General Farrow and the parade of new machines. Mr Vance described them. The ladies with him, are they his mother and sister?’
‘They are. The girl is a fascinating creature, but one never quite knows what she might do next.’ He glanced about. ‘Is our new friend here?’
‘Yes. He is number six.’
‘And you’re quite sure you can trust him?’
‘Remember, it was he who saved me from the
Face-slasher. Why should I not trust him?’
‘Ah, yes, the dashing gentleman in the mask, he with the enticingly scented soap you asked me so earnestly to identify. I thought I recognised it. He certainly knows how to creep about in disguise. Well, one word of advice, you must take very great care not to fall in love with him. Or is my warning already too late?’
‘We did have an interesting conversation,’ said Frances, quickly deflecting both Cedric’s thoughts and her own from that difficult subject. She explained the theory about Sir Hugo’s invention and why he had been stopped both from perfecting it and discussing it with General Farrow.
‘I can’t say I was impressed by what I saw of those side wheels,’ said Cedric, ‘but you are right, he might have found the secret of improving them and making them a valuable commodity. There’s many a manufacturer who could profit from such a thing. Let me get my race number and then we can think further. You’re sure you won’t go home?’
‘Cedric, you can’t take me home if you are to compete.’
‘My dear Frances,’ he exclaimed earnestly, ‘I will gladly miss all competitions to ensure your safety.’
‘Very well,’ she said soothingly, ‘let us agree on this. You can take me home once you have completed your afternoon race. But aren’t you due to enter the competition for the best turned-out machine? It will start in a few minutes, and you don’t have your number yet.’
Cedric agreed with some reluctance and went to get his number. In truth, although Frances was touched by Cedric’s obvious concern, and his prudent insistence that she should go home, she realised that she didn’t want to leave at all.
Mr Vance announced the parade, and proceeded to read out the names of the competitors, who wheeled their machines to the course with proud smiles. These were machines coated in the finest new enamels, every metal part polished to a mirror-like shine, the rotating spokes twinkling as they turned. The diminutive star of the display was Mr Toop, balancing atop his elegant little bicycle, which sported every addition that could possibly be attached to it whether it was needed or not. There was the new front wheel spoon brake, gleaming hub lamps, miniature front lamps, cyclometer, cowhide bag, and polished ebony handles. The rotund rider looked supremely pleased with himself as he pedalled sedately around the track. He had taken the requirement for embellishment to even greater extremes since he had included himself in the description, adding a fresh flower, a cream coloured rosebud, to his buttonhole and combing his hair flat in a slick of pomade.
Toop, Frances reflected, was the epitome of the little man of no great presence who sought to make himself larger though purchases. If taken too far the result could be more comical than impressive. Cedric, who was now sporting a number twenty-eight on his back, could not outshine Mr Toop in the matter of excess, but was easily his superior in the question of tasteful restraint, and Frances waved to him as he pedalled past.
The first real race of the day was between six ladies on tricycles, and while it could not be denied that they put a great deal of effort into it, it was clear to Frances that the machine could never rival the bicycle for ease and velocity. Not only was it heavier, but the position of the treadles in front of the rider could never allow her to put enough pressure on them as she might have done with the pedals of a bicycle. The new Rucker model would overcome that difficulty, but even so, the wearing of long heavy skirts remained a serious obstacle to attaining any great speed. The benefit of tricycles was that they combined healthful exercise with safety and mobility, but only as long as they were used for country excursions. Their size, which required a stable to keep them, as well as the cost, also meant that tricycle use was restricted to ladies of some means.
Frances was musing on this subject when she heard a familiar voice at her side. ‘Well, well, Miss Doughty, as I live and breathe! What brings you here?’
She turned around and to her astonishment and dismay saw the ruddy features of Inspector Sharrock of Paddington Green.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Frances took a deep breath before she replied. ‘A lady may take an excursion and amuse herself, may she not?’
‘Ah,’ he said, with a knowing grin. ‘I understand. Detective work. Well I only hope you’re not running about after murderers again. I can’t think how many times I have spoken to you about that, but you never listen.’
‘Inspector,’ she said quietly, ‘I wish only to observe the races as anyone might do. For that purpose, I am not Frances Doughty today, I am Rose Williamson, Mr Garton’s cousin.’
‘Of course you are,’ he said, with an exaggerated wink. ‘Just don’t get into any trouble.’
‘I have no intention of getting into any trouble.’
‘You never do, and then next moment you go out searching for it.’ He looked around him. ‘Do you know Sir Hugo Daffin? Old gent, monocle, usually makes all the announcements. Is he about?’
‘The club secretary Mr Toop has just told us that Sir Hugo is delayed in London on business, but is expected to return soon.’
‘Ah,’ said Sharrock. ‘I wonder what that was about?’ He narrowed his eyes and gave her a searching look. ‘Do you know?’
‘I’m afraid I don’t. Were you supposed to have a meeting with him?’
‘No, only I am here at his request. He asked for an officer to come and give a talk about bicycle safety. We had some leaflets made, but I shouldn’t think they’ll do much good.’ He nodded to where young Constable Mayberry, who regularly assisted him in his work, was handing out papers. ‘To be honest with you, I don’t think the words “safety” and “bicycle” have much business being together. Dangerous machines. The sooner they are given up and those who feel they have to ride about on wheels turn to tricycles, the better. I still wouldn’t have them on the city streets, though. Horses will never stand for them. But even on country roads these dare-all young men need to be reminded how to behave. A bicycle is a carriage in law, and is subject to the same rules of the road. You don’t see carriages driving on the pavement and neither is that any place for a bicycle.’
‘I’m sure the members of the Bayswater and other clubs will be very pleased to have that made clear to them,’ said Frances. ‘Perhaps you might also remind carriage drivers and carriers not to make unprovoked assaults on bicyclists, since that seems to be a common sport nowadays.’
Sharrock’s expression showed that he accepted her point. ‘If they do then I promise you they will be met with the full force of the law. Can’t have the streets of the metropolis turned into a Roman circus now, can we?’
Frances hoped that the intrusion of the police would not affect her mission, but now she thought about it, it could be a good thing, since their presence on the field might deter Mr Grove’s attackers from making another attempt.
Mr Toop had noticed the new arrivals, and after making sure that his prized machine was carefully put away, he hurried up to the Inspector. Frances decided to remain nearby, affecting a keen interest in the preparations for the boys’ race, but staying within earshot.
‘Inspector,’ said Toop, breathlessly, ‘I do hope the police are here to tell us that the escaped convict has been recaptured. We have all been very alarmed, especially since it seems he must have entered the coach house at Springfield Lodge where our machines are stored without being noticed and actually,’ Toop paused and made little gasping noises before he could go on, ‘actually caused damage to a bicycle by cutting the spokes. I am only thankful it was no worse.’
Sharrock did not appear to find an outrage committed upon a bicycle quite as serious as did Toop. ‘I am sorry to say that as far as I have been informed the convict Coote is still at large. If you have reported the damage to the Acton police I am sure they can be relied upon to look into it. But in my experience these convicts only want one thing – to get as far away as they can as quickly as they can, so I doubt that you need to be concerned. No, I am here at the request of Sir Hugo Daffin to give a talk on bicycles and the law, and how to ride safely.�
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‘Oh!’ said Toop. ‘I’m afraid he hadn’t mentioned that to me; of course, he has been so very busy of late. But it is a splendid idea, and I am sure we can all benefit from it. Do you ride, Inspector?’
‘I do not,’ said Sharrock, firmly. The words ‘and never will’ remained unspoken, but still hung in the air.
Toop was undeterred. ‘I understand that many police forces in the country districts have taken to the wheel with great advantage.’
‘Well, I can see the usefulness there,’ said Sharrock reluctantly, ‘although they still need to be careful around horses.’
‘Of course, of course. When do you wish to make your speech?’
Sharrock looked at his watch. ‘Whenever it will do most good.’
‘Splendid! Just before the afternoon races, I think. There will be a good crowd then. I’ll advise the committee. And I will see to it that you and your constable are given luncheon at the club’s expense.’ Toop hurried away.
Sharrock looked a little brighter at the prospect of luncheon, and Frances took the opportunity to question him. ‘Inspector, it does seem strange to me that the convict was able to make his escape and disappear so easily. Would he not make a distinctive figure in his uniform? Or does he have friends in the area who can hide him and help him get away?’
‘Yes, and no,’ said Sharrock. ‘I am not looking into that business, it’s a matter for the Hammersmith police, but if I was to hazard a guess I would say that the ease of the escape suggests that the man had inside help.’
‘Inside? In the prison? You mean one of the guards?’
‘Oh yes, it has been known. You only need one wrong’un who’d turn a blind eye and leave an old suit of clothes and some food lying about.’
‘For money, I suppose.’
‘Well, it would have to be. They don’t get paid enough. Like the police.’
‘But Coote had no money.’
‘No, but he might have had criminal associates. They might have owed him a favour so he would do them one in return. It’s a funny world.’
Murder at the Bayswater Bicycle Club Page 15