The spirit of resistance was slowly awakened in Abel Mundy. Willing to make some changes, he had been lulled into the belief that his play needed structural alterations. While he refused to believe that it had been a deliberate trick on the part of Tregarne, he was not so ready to exonerate the theatre manager. It was Lemuel Fleet who’d contrived the visit, knowing that suggestions from an eminent dramatist and composer might be more acceptable than if they came from a strident actress.
Mundy closed the last page, picked up the whole play then slammed it down on the table. He would refuse to allow something that was tantamount to butchery of his work. His wife, he was certain, would endorse his decision. Together they would stand firm against the deviousness of the manager and the demands of Hannah Granville. Within minutes of reaching his decision, he was able to confide it to his wife. Returning to the house, she entered the room with great solemnity.
‘Where have you been?’ he asked.
‘I went to church, Abel.’
‘Do not waste time praying for the success of my play. It is beyond help.’
‘I needed to talk to the vicar,’ she explained. ‘The load I’ve been carrying is too heavy to bear so I sought his advice.’
‘There is no load now, Marion. It is all over. We can kick the dust of London from our feet and return to gentler pastures in the provinces. They like me there.’
‘You don’t understand.’
‘What I understand,’ he said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, ‘is that I have a wonderful wife on whom I can depend in a crisis. Without you, I’d surely have crumbled by now. You have fought valiantly by my side.’
‘I fear that I fought too valiantly, Abel.’
‘In marrying you, I found myself a saint.’
‘The vicar did not think me very saintly,’ she said. ‘He said that my secret would fester away inside me if I didn’t tell the truth.’
‘But you have no secrets from me, Marion.’
‘Yes, I do.’
She looked him full in the face. Taking his hand from her shoulder, he stepped back a few paces. He opened his mouth in horror as he realised that the dear, devoted wife with her Christian virtues had struck back at the person who’d been plaguing him. It was Marion Mundy who’d hurled a stone through the window.
The second song composed by Tregarne was even better than the first. It left Hannah in a state of pure joy. Having sung it through several times, she took pity on Charlotte for spending so long at the piano and went back to her own house, singing both songs to herself alternately. Eager to tell Paul her good fortune, she was dismayed that he was not at home. In his place, waiting impatiently, was Lemuel Fleet.
‘What did you think of the song?’ he asked.
‘Which one?’ she replied. ‘They are both delightful.’
‘I’m so glad that you approve of them. I had a meeting with Mr Tregarne earlier on and he asked me to send you his kindest regards.’
‘That was very kind of him.’
‘He’s looking forward to seeing you in The Piccadilly Opera.’
‘How can he do that when it will never be performed?’
‘There’s been a change of mind on Mr Mundy’s part.’
‘What provoked that?’
‘I’ve no idea, Miss Granville, but he sent me this missive a short while ago.’
He handed over the letter and Hannah unfolded it. What she read was at first unbelievable. Mundy was acceding to every demand she’d made. Written in a shaky hand, the letter was polite and respectful. It made a point of praising Hannah’s talent and apologising to her for any aspersions cast upon it. There was no explanation of why the playwright had withdrawn all his objections. His surrender was complete.
‘This is wondrous,’ said Hannah, returning the letter.
‘It is, indeed,’ he said, chortling. ‘It’s truly miraculous.’
Having seen so little of her husband all day, Charlotte was delighted when he came home that evening. When he told her of his plans, her delight turned to dismay.
‘You and Paul are going to Scotland?’ she asked.
‘We’d go much farther for the chance to catch Rawdon Carr.’
‘But you’ve no guarantee that he’s actually heading there.’
‘We have enough evidence to convince us.’
‘What if you don’t find him?’
‘We’ll keep searching until we do, Charlotte.’
‘He’s an evil man and he deserves to be brought to justice,’ she said, ‘but you seem to be taking such a risk, Peter. If he is aboard that boat, he has already stolen a march on you.’
‘Sailing can be hazardous at the best of times,’ he told her, ‘and boats can easily be blown off course. Paul and I will travel overland and reach Edinburgh well ahead of them. As the two of them get off the boat, we will be waiting to arrest them for their part in the murder of Mr Bowerman and for a number of other crimes. Seeing the look of surprise on their faces,’ he went on, ‘will be ample reward for the effort it will have cost us.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
When he got to Bow Street early that morning, Micah Yeomans was still trying to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. A long night drinking at The Peacock had taken its toll. Alfred Hale was in slightly better shape. The summons had got him out of bed instantly. To the mutual disgust of the Runners, the chief magistrate was bright and alert. He seemed to be able to work for twenty-four hours a day without any sign of strain. When he explained why he’d summoned them, Kirkwood emphasised the need for speed and decisiveness.
‘Strike quickly and strike hard,’ he said.
‘What exactly is in Mr Carr’s letter, sir?’ asked Yeomans.
‘It’s a denunciation both of Captain Hamer – who never actually held that rank, apparently – and of Miss Somerville. In reality, he is her brother.’
Yeomans goggled. ‘That’s immoral. He can’t marry his own sister.’
‘He had no intention of doing so. He simply pretended to be her suitor in order to provoke someone into challenging him into a duel that he knew he could win.’ He held the letter out to Yeomans. ‘Read it for yourself. It’s important for you to know the full details of their villainy before you arrest them.’
Standing side by side, the Runners read the letter simultaneously. It drew gasps of amazement from both of them. They were embarrassed to recall how easily Laetitia had allayed their suspicions on the previous day with a series of plausible explanations. When they’d left her house, they’d actually apologised. Yet, they now learned, their earlier assessment of her had been quite accurate. She and Hamer were heartless criminals. When the letter was handed back to him, Kirkwood was contrite.
‘I need to offer you both an apology,’ he began. ‘When you interrupted that duel and prevented Mr Bowerman from being shot dead, you had your suspicions of Hamer. In the wake of Bowerman’s murder, you arrested him.’
‘He would not have come here of his own accord, sir,’ said Yeomans.
‘And you released him,’ recalled Hale.
‘You released him and you reprimanded us.’
‘That’s why I’m tendering an apology to both of you,’ said Kirkwood, almost choking on the words. ‘You were right and I was wrong. You smelt corruption and I did not. If everything in this letter is true, Hamer and Miss Somerville are monsters. They may not have killed Bowerman but that was their intention when they trapped him into challenging Hamer to a duel.’
‘Why is Mr Carr telling us all this?’ asked Hale.
‘You’ve read what he said. He wants to salve his conscience.’
‘But he collaborated with them, sir.’
‘We’ll deal with him in due course,’ said Kirkwood. ‘What we have here is a damning indictment of two individuals with perverse ambitions and a ruthlessness to achieve them. I writhe in disgust at the notion of Miss Somerville inheriting the bulk of Mr Bowerman’s property and wealth. It’s unseemly.’
‘And it’s criminal,’ said Yeomans.<
br />
‘Arrest them both at once.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And be on your guard. Hamer is likely to put up a fight.’
‘We’ll go armed, sir, and show no mercy.’
‘To be on the safe side,’ said Hale, ‘we’ll take plenty of men. Mr Yeomans and I have been rebuffed by the two of them time and again. The tables are now turned in our favour.’
‘We know the shocking truth about them now,’ said Yeomans.
‘And we have a huge advantage, Micah.’
‘Do we?’
‘Of course,’ said Hale, airily. ‘We can take them completely by surprise.’
Laetitia was aghast when she read the letter from Rawdon Carr. Her maid took it up to the boudoir where she was reclining on the bed. The moment she saw the opening paragraph, she leapt to her feet. She couldn’t believe that she and her brother had been so comprehensively taken in by a man they thought was a true friend. Laetitia was shocked to learn that she was being punished for her rejection of Carr’s suit. More astounding, however, was the news that Carr was speaking on behalf of himself and of Edith Loveridge, a woman supposedly dead. Looking back, she saw how cleverly Carr had persuaded them that Edith, reeling from the blow of being spurned by Hamer, had gone abroad and contracted a fatal disease. All the time, in fact, she was Rawdon Carr’s partner and an accessory to the murder of Mark Bowerman.
It was several minutes before her head cleared enough for her to make a decision. Running to the door, she opened it wide and called for her manservant. He dashed upstairs as fast as he could.
‘Go to Captain Hamer’s house and bring him here at once.’
‘Yes, Miss Somerville.’
‘If he’s not yet awake, rouse him out of his bed.’
‘What shall I say?’
‘Tell him that it’s a matter of life and death.’
Expecting far more resistance from Hamer, the Runners went to his house first and deployed their men around it, impressing upon them that the former soldier would try to fight his way out. Yeomans and Hale approached the house warily. It held some uncomfortable memories for them but they now had a chance to expunge them. The chief magistrate’s apology had given both of them a fillip. Their pride had been restored. Whichever way it developed, they felt capable of handling the situation.
Yeomans gave his friend the honour of ringing the bell then let his hand slip to the pistol concealed under his cloak. The door was soon opened by a servant.
‘We’ve come to see your master,’ said Yeomans, pushing past her.
‘But the captain is not here, sir,’ she said.
‘Don’t lie to me, girl. Where is he?’
‘He left the house not ten or fifteen minutes ago.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
He signalled to some of his men and four of them came running. They searched the house with noisy thoroughness from top to bottom but they found no trace of Hamer. Yeomans rounded on Hale.
‘What happened to the advantage of surprise?’
The sudden departure of the two brothers had thrown Charlotte and Hannah together. So excited was the actress to pass on the good tidings that she called on her friend before breakfast. Charlotte was thrilled to hear that rehearsals of the play would resume and that it had been changed largely in accordance with Hannah’s wishes.
‘Did your arguments finally prevail?’ asked Charlotte.
‘Something happened to change his mind.’
‘He was so adamant at first.’
‘I think he recognised that I have the stronger will.’
‘Does that mean he’ll attend rehearsals?’
‘No,’ replied Hannah, ‘that was the other concession. Mr Mundy promised to stay away until the latter stages so that he wouldn’t be tempted to interfere.’
‘What did Mr Fleet have to say?’
‘Had he been able to do so, I fancy that he’d have turned somersaults. He told me that he’d met with Mr Tregarne yesterday.’
Charlotte smiled. ‘I had a feeling that he might be involved.’
‘It’s marvellous news,’ said Hannah, ‘and it will help to console me during Paul’s absence. I slept in a very cold bed last night.’
‘So did I, Hannah.’
‘He told me that it was all in a good cause.’
‘Peter used the same phrase to me. I still think that they’re putting themselves to a great deal of effort on the basis of a hopeful supposition.’
‘Paul’s suppositions are usually proved right.’
‘Scotland is so ridiculously far away.’
‘If I was in Mr Carr’s shoes, that’s exactly the sort of place I’d choose. He’s betrayed his friends. They’ll want his blood. He needs to put hundreds of miles between himself and them.’
‘I’m worried about the dangers they might meet on their way there.’
‘Peter and Paul love danger,’ said Hannah. ‘When I first discovered that, I demanded that Paul should find a gentler way of life.’
‘That’s like ordering the sun not to shine.’
‘I soon learnt that.’ She glanced towards the dining room. ‘Have you had breakfast yet?’
‘No,’ said Charlotte, ‘and I’m famished. Do please join me. Afterwards, I suppose, you’ll want me to accompany you on the piano at my house.’
Hannah laughed. ‘How did you guess?’
Placed side by side on the table, the letters looked identical. Hamer pointed out the crucial difference. At the bottom of his missive the letter ‘e’ was written so faintly as to be almost invisible.
‘Edith is showing off,’ he said, ruefully. ‘Rawdon wrote your letter and she copied it for my benefit. She has an extraordinary gift.’
‘It’s more like a supernatural power, Stephen. How many other women can come back from the grave and exact their revenge on someone? It’s your fault, really. You didn’t handle Edith properly.’
‘I had no complaints at the time.’
‘You dallied shamelessly with her when what she expected was marriage.’
‘Rawdon had the same fantasies about you, Laetitia.’
‘They were foolishly unrealistic. That’s why I had to shun him.’
Stephen studied his letter. ‘Can those investments of ours really be bogus?’
‘We won’t get a penny.’
‘What about Bowerman’s property?’
‘That, too, is beginning to recede before my eyes,’ she said. ‘Paul Skillen knows about the terms of the will. He talked of contesting it.’
‘Then he’ll fail. It was made in good faith by a man who loved you.’
‘I thought that Rawdon Carr loved me once.’
Their anger was intensified by the searing pain they both felt at being cheated. Large amounts of money on which they’d depended no longer existed. The person they’d willingly allowed to control events had proved to be treacherous and, worse, was in league with a woman who’d turned forgery into an art. Their whole world suddenly began to rock.
‘What are we going to do, Stephen?’
‘My first task is to go after Rawdon and kill him,’ he said. ‘He’s not only duped us, he’s mocking us for our stupidity. Edith is probably sniggering beside him at this very moment.’
‘You don’t know where they’ve gone.’
‘I’ll find out somehow, Laetitia. They’re bound to have left a trail.’
‘Are we in danger?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘What if Rawdon decides to betray us to the authorities?’
‘Even he wouldn’t stoop to that level.’
There was a tap on the door and a servant entered nervously.
‘Excuse me for interrupting,’ she said, ‘but people are surrounding the house.’
‘Who are they?’ cried Laetitia.
Hamer ran to the window and peered out. He saw Yeomans and Hale with a dozen or more men in support. They were closing in on the house.
‘It’s the Runners!’ he yel
led.
Having slept fitfully all night, Abel Mundy and his wife lay side by side in silence. Neither of them dared to speak or had the urge to move. Though they were within inches of each other, they seemed far apart. When a window was shattered within feet of Hannah Granville, he’d been moved to sympathise with her. It never crossed his mind as even a remote possibility that the person who threw the stone was his wife. Now that the truth had finally come into the open, Mundy had weathered the immediate shock and sought for an explanation of why she acted as she did.
It was his fault. His bitter feud with a capricious actress had brought him such patent misery that Marion, a woman of great kindness and forbearance, had been driven to administer punishment on his behalf. He couldn’t blame her because it was he who was really culpable. Instead of bringing his worries home, he should have kept them to himself. In sharing his anguish with his wife, he’d painted Hannah Granville in the garish colours of a destructive madwoman.
When Marion eventually found her voice, it was only a meek whisper.
‘Do you think that I should confess?’
‘You’ve already done that before God.’
‘The vicar said that I should tell the truth to Miss Granville.’
‘That would be humiliating to you and upsetting to her. The incident is over and is already fading into the past. Now that the play is back in rehearsal, she has got what she wanted. I hated having to cede victory but it was unavoidable. Because of what you told me,’ he went on, ‘I had to make amends.’
‘But it’s your play, Abel. You shouldn’t have to surrender it.’
‘Part of me has done so willingly, my dear. To tell you the truth, some of the demands she made were very reasonable. It was her hostile manner that made me so defensive. Mr Tregarne endorsed her views. Between them,’ he said, philosophically, ‘they added to the strength of my play. I should be grateful for that.’
A Date with the Executioner Page 28