A Date with the Executioner
Page 30
‘Take us to the Grand Hotel!’
‘Oh, we’ll take you much further than that,’ said Paul, removing his hat and grinning at them through the open door. ‘Welcome to Edinburgh, Mr Carr! I’ve been waiting for you.’
Carr was horror-struck. ‘How the devil did you get here?’
‘My brother came with me,’ said Peter, opening the other door and doffing his hat. He smiled courteously at Edith. ‘I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Loveridge,’ he went on. ‘I bring you greetings from Mr Impey, though he knew you as Mrs Mallory, of course. He’ll be thrilled to attend your trial in London.’
‘What’s going on, Rawdon?’ she cried. ‘Who are these men?’
But Carr was unable to muster an answer. The plan he’d so carefully drawn up had just vanished before his eyes. He offered a token resistance by trying to push Paul aside and get out of the vehicle but he was easily punched back into his seat. All that Carr would get was a fleeting glimpse of his birthplace before he was taken back to London to meet his death.
Fired by the promise of an exciting new play and the opportunity of hearing songs written by Benjamin Tregarne, people came in droves to watch the first performance. All seats had been sold and the auditorium was buzzing with anticipatory pleasure. Peter and Charlotte had the privilege of sitting with the composer and with Lemuel Fleet in the manager’s box. Paul preferred to be in the pit so that he could be close to Hannah. Abel Mundy and his wife stayed at the rear, nursing their misgivings. When a fanfare sounded, the hubbub died down slightly and The Piccadilly Opera made its first appearance before an audience.
It was a sensation. The plot had been tightened, the characters defined more sharply and the humour scattered more freely throughout the play. Tregarne’s ariettas were inspiring, each one greeted by an ovation. Costumes and scenery were superb, flooding the stage with colour and drawing gasps of wonder. The real surprise was Hannah Granville. Those who’d marvelled at her in tragic roles now realised that she had comedic talent of the highest order and a voice of operatic power. Following her lead, the cast surpassed themselves. A new play had been transformed from its earlier version into a brilliant piece of theatre. When it met thunderous acclaim at the end, nobody clapped louder than the playwright himself. Applause signalled acceptance. In the course of the evening, against all his earlier predictions, he’d become famous.
Back at Paul’s house, celebrations went on long into the night. He, Hannah, Peter and Charlotte toasted the success of the evening. It had obliterated all the problems that had bedevilled the play at the start. Everyone involved had been beneficiaries of an unqualified triumph.
‘Before long,’ said Paul, introducing a sombre note, ‘another performance will take place and it’s one that can never be repeated. There’ll be no love story and no songs when Rawdon Carr and Edith Loveridge step onto the scaffold.’
‘There will, however, be a baying mob,’ said Peter.
Hannah grimaced. ‘I think such a spectacle is grotesque.’
‘I couldn’t agree with you more,’ said Charlotte, sadly. ‘Both of them deserve to be executed for their crimes but it shouldn’t take place in public.’
‘Yes, it should,’ argued Paul. ‘It sends out a grim warning. I’m proud that Peter and I brought the pair of them back to London to answer for their crimes. They showed no pity for their victims and they deserve none themselves.’
‘That sounds rather harsh.’
‘It’s meant to be, Charlotte. What we saw this evening was one of the finest entertainments ever put before a London audience and Hannah must be feted for what she did on that stage. It was pure magic. If I hadn’t loved her already,’ he went on, leaning across to kiss her, ‘I’d have been bewitched by her. Yet the truth is that it was all make-believe in front of painted scenery. The execution will be an example of real drama. Peter and I are its co-authors. In a city as beset by crime as London, I’m afraid that it won’t be the last time we have to take up our pens.’
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By Edward Marston
THE BOW STREET RIVALS SERIES
Shadow of the Hangman • Steps to the Gallows • Date with the Executioner
THE RAILWAY DETECTIVE SERIES
The Railway Detective • The Excursion Train
The Railway Viaduct • The Iron Horse
Murder on the Brighton Express • The Silver Locomotive Mystery Railway to the Grave • Blood on the Line
The Stationmaster’s Farewell • Peril on the Royal Train
A Ticket to Oblivion • Timetable of Death • Signal for Vengeance
Inspector Colbeck’s Casebook:
Thirteen Tales from the Railway Detective
The Railway Detective Omnibus:
The Railway Detective, The Excursion Train, The Railway Viaduct
THE RESTORATION SERIES
The King’s Evil • The Amorous Nightingale • The Repentant Rake
The Frost Fair • The Parliament House • The Painted Lady
THE CAPTAIN RAWSON SERIES
Soldier of Fortune • Drums of War • Fire and Sword
Under Siege • A Very Murdering Battle
THE BRACEWELL MYSTERIES
The Queen’s Head • The Merry Devils • The Trip to Jerusalem
The Nine Giants • The Mad Courtesan • The Silent Woman
The Roaring Boy • The Laughing Hangman • The Fair Maid of Bohemia
The Wanton Angel • The Devil’s Apprentice • The Bawdy Basket
The Vagabond Clown • The Counterfeit Crank
The Malevolent Comedy • The Princess of Denmark
THE HOME FRONT DETECTIVE SERIES
A Bespoke Murder • Instrument of Slaughter • Five Dead Canaries
Deeds of Darkness • Dance of Death • The Enemy Within
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
EDWARD MARSTON was born and brought up in South Wales. A full-time writer for over forty years, he has worked in radio, film, television and theatre, and is a former chairman of the Crime Writers’ Association.
www.edwardmarston.com
COPYRIGHT
Allison & Busby Limited
12 Fitzroy Mews
London W1T 6DW
allisonandbusby.com
First published in Great Britain by Allison & Busby in 2017.
This ebook edition first published in 2017.
Copyright © 2017 by EDWARD MARSTON
The moral right of the author is hereby asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All characters and events in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978–0–7490–2115–3
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