The Iron Horse

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The Iron Horse Page 14

by Edward Marston


  ‘She came very close to it.’

  ‘I can see why you want me to speak to her instead.’

  ‘You’re a woman – that gives you an immediate advantage over me. You can draw her out more easily. Do nothing for a day or so. Bonny needs time to grieve and to get over the initial shock.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘Go to the Shepherd and Shepherdess and meet her. Talk to the girl about her friendship with John Feeny. How close were they – did they ever think of marriage? Without realising it,’ said Colbeck, ‘Bonny Rimmer knows things that could be useful to me. I’d hoped you’d be talking to the woman who owned that hatbox but she’s yet to be identified. It may be more helpful if you spoke to Bonny.’

  ‘I’ll try, Robert.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  As he leant across to kiss her again, they heard the scrape of a key in the lock and moved guiltily apart. They got to their feet. The door suddenly opened and Caleb Andrews darted in to escape the rain that was now falling outside. He closed the door behind him.

  ‘It’s teeming down out there,’ he said.

  ‘I managed to miss it,’ said Colbeck. ‘I hope it clears up before Derby Week begins.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Madeleine.

  ‘I can see you know nothing about horseracing, Maddy,’ said Andrews. ‘Heavy rain can affect the result of a race. Some horses prefer a hard, dry course. Others do best when the going is soft. If it rains on the morning of the Derby, the betting odds will change.’

  ‘True,’ agreed Colbeck. ‘Odysseus might drop back and Limerick Lad might replace him as favourite. Brian Dowd told me that his colt liked a soft, damp surface. They have a fair bit of rain in Ireland, by all accounts, so Limerick Lad is used to it.’

  ‘I’m going to bet on an outsider,’ said Andrews. ‘That way, if I do win, I’ll get a decent return on my money.’

  ‘Which horse have you picked?’ asked Madeleine.

  ‘Princess of Fire – the name reminded me of you, Maddy. When you’re in a good mood, you’re my very own princess. And when you’re not, it’s like being in the middle of a fiery furnace.’

  ‘That’s a terrible thing to say,’ she protested over his laughter.

  ‘Your father is only teasing,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘I’m the most tolerant daughter in the world.’

  ‘You are at that,’ said Andrews, giving her a kiss of appeasement and soaking her dress in the process. ‘I’m sorry, Maddy. I’ll get out of these wet things before I have supper.’

  ‘What are the odds on this Princess of Fire?’

  ‘20–1.’

  ‘Good luck!’ said Colbeck ‘Who owns the horse, Mr Andrews?’

  ‘A man with an eye for fillies – he has two of them in the race.’

  ‘Hamilton Fido?’

  ‘Yes, Inspector,’ replied Andrews. ‘My reasoning is this, see. No bookmaker would enter a horse unless it had a fair chance of winning. I reckon that he’s made sure all the attention has gone on Merry Legs when, in fact, the filly he expects to romp home is Princess of Fire.’

  It was her second unexpected visitor that day and Kitty Lavender was torn between pleasure and discomfort. While she was glad to see Hamilton Fido again, she was unsettled by the fact that he had caught her unawares. She was grateful that she was wearing a necklace he had given her. Inviting him into her drawing room, she received a kiss.

  ‘I didn’t think to see you for a couple of days,’ she said.

  ‘Is that a complaint, Kitty?’

  ‘No, no, of course not.’

  ‘Are your feathers still ruffled?’ he said, caressing her shoulders and arms. ‘When you came to my office, you were very upset.’

  ‘I had good reason to be, Hamilton.’

  ‘Well, you seem much calmer now, I’m glad to say. And I kept my promise, Kitty. I found out the name of the murder victim even though the police still haven’t released it to the press.’

  She braced herself. ‘Whose head was it?’

  ‘John Feeny’s.’

  ‘And who is he?’

  ‘He was a groom at my stables,’ said Fido, ‘though, in my opinion, he should never have been employed there. Feeny used to work for Brian Dowd. I think he was sent to England as a spy.’

  ‘Who killed him?’

  ‘That’s what I came to talk to you about. The man in charge of the investigation is Inspector Colbeck.’

  ‘Yes – I saw his name in the newspapers.’

  ‘His nickname is the Railway Detective but he knows a lot about the Turf as well,’ conceded the bookmaker. ‘He also knows how to pick up a scent and that’s where you come in, Kitty.’

  ‘I don’t follow.’

  ‘Colbeck discovered that we stayed at the Wyvern Hotel.’

  Kitty was scandalised. ‘How on earth did he do that?’

  ‘I wish I knew. The hotel was your recommendation.’

  ‘I’d heard it was very discreet,’ she said, not wishing to admit that she’d been there before. ‘A woman friend of mine spoke well of it.’

  ‘You can tell your friend that she was wrong. They let us down badly. Inspector Colbeck came out to the stables this afternoon to question me about our stay there. I must confess that it gave me a bit of a jolt, Kitty. He knew far too much. What he really wanted to find out was your name.’

  ‘She started. ‘My name?’

  ‘It was your hatbox.’

  ‘What difference does that make?’

  ‘Colbeck thought there might be significance in the fact. The only way he can be certain is to talk to you in person.’

  ‘Did you give him my name?’ said Kitty anxiously.

  ‘You know me better than that,’ he soothed, taking her hands and kissing both of them. ‘I refused to tell him, Kitty. The problem is that that could be construed as holding back evidence. If he wants to, Inspector Colbeck could make life very difficult for me at a time when I need to concentrate all my energies on Derby Week.’

  ‘There’s nothing I can tell him, Hamilton. My hatbox was stolen. That’s the beginning and the end of it.’

  ‘He won’t be satisfied until he’s heard that from your own lips.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk to any detective.’

  ‘It could save me a lot of embarrassment, Kitty. When he saw that I’d never reveal your name, Colbeck suggested a compromise. He said that you could come forward of your own accord and that the meeting with him would be in the strictest privacy.’

  ‘No,’ she said, turning away. ‘I want no part of this.’

  ‘Not even to help me?’

  ‘I don’t wish for any dealings with the police.’

  ‘To give him his due, Colbeck seems very trustworthy.’

  ‘I don’t care what he is.’

  ‘Well, I do,’ he said, crossing to turn her round so that she faced him. ‘Unless you talk to him, he’ll keep hounding me and I simply can’t allow that. You know how busy I’m going to be, Kitty. The last thing I need is to be hauled into Scotland Yard.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Hamilton – I just can’t do it.’

  Their eyes locked and there was a silent battle of wills. They had been together for a relatively short time but it had been long enough for Kitty to glimpse the rewards that might come her way. Fido was rich, amorous and highly indulgent. The few nights they had spent together had been wonderful, marked by pitches of excitement she had never known before. It would be reckless of her to put their friendship at risk. After mulling it over, she gave a noncommittal nod.

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, giving her a warm hug. ‘Oh, by the way, I saw your brother last night.’

  ‘Marcus is only my half-brother.’

  ‘I called in at a club I belong to and there he was – sitting at the card table with some of the most notorious gamblers in the city. From what I could see, Marcus was doing quite well.’

  ‘He had a lucky streak. He told me about it.’

 
; ‘That’s a good omen for Derby Week.’

  ‘He means to bet heavily.’

  ‘Then send him to me,’ said Fido. ‘I like a man who knows how to throw his money around. Cautious punters are the bane of my life.’

  ‘Marcus is never cautious.’ She remembered her discussion with him and saw an opportunity to probe a little on his behalf. ‘And neither are you, Hamilton. Because you’ve taken big chances, you’ve reaped big rewards.’

  He grinned at her. ‘You’re one of them, Kitty.’

  ‘I may place a small bet myself.’

  ‘Then don’t come to me. Small bets are for small bookmakers.’

  ‘They all agree that Odysseus is the favourite.’

  ‘Put your money on him and you’ll lose it.’

  ‘What would you advise?’ she asked, nestling up to him.

  ‘Look to the lady,’ he suggested. ‘It’s high time that a filly won the Derby again and that’s exactly what Merry Legs will do. I saw her being put through her paces today and she reminded me of you.’

  She spluttered. ‘A horse reminded you of me?’

  ‘A filly,’ he corrected with a wicked smile. ‘Merry Legs was sleek, beautiful and a class apart from all those around her – just like you.’

  Robert Colbeck and Victor Leeming arrived early at Scotland Yard next morning so that they could compare notes about their respective visits the previous day before reporting to the superintendent. Colbeck was interested to hear Leeming’s assessment of Brian Dowd.

  ‘He’s a hard man,’ said the sergeant. ‘Mr Dowd was pleasant enough to me but I’m not sure I’d like to work for him.’

  ‘Why not, Victor?’

  ‘He has a real temper. One of his stable lads felt the full force of it. The last time I heard that kind of language was in a dockyard. He cursed him until the lad was shaking.’

  ‘Brian Dowd likes to assert his authority. I saw that in Ireland.’

  ‘There’s no love lost between him and Hamilton Fido.’

  ‘I know,’ said Colbeck. ‘They loathe each other and neither of them has a good word to say about Lord Hendry. Of the three of them, I think I liked Dowd the best.’

  ‘He seemed the most straightforward of them to me.’

  ‘And he obviously inspires loyalty. That’s why Tim Maguire has stayed with him. If I owned a racehorse, Maguire would always be my first choice as a jockey. I’ve seen him ride before.’

  ‘No wonder Mr Fido tried to bribe him.’

  ‘We don’t know that he did,’ said Colbeck, glancing at the letter again. ‘That was an assumption that Dowd made when he saw that this. The offer could have come from one of the many owners who’d love to have Maguire in their colours.’

  ‘It didn’t come from Lord Hendry,’ said Leeming.

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Because of something Mr Dowd told me. According to him, Lord Hendry is always short of money. He certainly couldn’t afford the five hundred pounds to tempt Maguire.’

  ‘He could afford to keep a mistress – until she walked out.’

  ‘How could he manage that?’

  ‘On credit, probably,’ said Colbeck. ‘People still respect a title. It can buy a lot of financial leeway.’ He handed the anonymous letter to Leeming. ‘Time to face the wrath of Mr Tallis,’ he added, getting up from his chair. ‘He expected arrests long before now.’

  When they entered the superintendent’s office, they walked into a fug of cigar smoke. Tallis was behind his desk, glowering at one of the newspapers on the pile in front of him. After puffing on his cigar, he looked up at them with controlled fury.

  ‘Which one of you idiots did this?’ he demanded, tapping the newspaper. ‘Who released the name of John Feeny to the press?’

  ‘Not me, sir,’ said Leeming.

  ‘Nor me,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘It must have been one of you. Nobody else outside this room knew who the murder victim was and I wanted to keep it that way until I felt it appropriate to identify him publicly. Admit it,’ he went on, rapping his desk. ‘Which one of you let the name slip?’

  ‘Neither of us, Superintendent,’ said Colbeck, ‘and you’re wrong to think that we are the only three people aware of Feeny’s identity. You’re forgetting his uncle and Brian Dowd. More importantly, you’re forgetting his killer – he was very much aware of who and what the lad was. You can add someone else to that list as well.’

  ‘And who might that be?’ said Tallis.

  ‘Hamilton Fido.’

  ‘The bookmaker?’

  ‘When we called on him this morning, he already knew that it was John Feeny’s head in that hatbox.’

  ‘Incredible!’

  ‘Not if you’ve met Mr Fido,’ said Leeming.

  ‘He has agents everywhere, sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘One of them, I’m ashamed to tell you, works in this very building.’

  Tallis was rocked by the news. ‘Are you certain, Inspector?’

  ‘Beyond a shadow of a doubt,’ Colbeck assured him. ‘We need to flush him out and I have an idea how it might be done. Before we get diverted by that, however, I think you should hear what Victor and I managed to find out yesterday afternoon.’

  ‘Yes, yes, please go ahead.’

  ‘Victor,’ prompted Colbeck.

  ‘Oh, I see,’ said Leeming uneasily. ‘You want me to go first.’

  He launched into a long, rambling account of his visit to Brian Dowd’s stables and he handed Tallis the anonymous letter sent to the jockey. When the report finally came to an end, the superintendent waved the letter in the air.

  ‘Five hundred pounds for a jockey?’ he bellowed. ‘Is any man worth that amount for simply riding in a horse race?’

  ‘Tim Maguire is worth every penny,’ said Colbeck. ‘He’s ahead of his rivals in both skill and experience. The Derby is not an ordinary race, sir. Apart from bringing great kudos to the winner, there’s prize money of over six thousand pounds this year.’

  ‘Six thousand!’

  ‘That’s in addition to what the owner can make by betting on his horse,’ said Leeming. ‘You can see why they all want the best jockey. Mr Fido has tried to lure him away before.’

  ‘Is Dowd certain that Hamilton Fido offered this bribe?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Then all we need to do is to get another sample of Mr Fido’s handwriting in order to compare it with this letter.’

  ‘With respect,’ said Colbeck, ‘that would be utterly pointless. If Hamilton Fido is the man behind the bribe – and there’s no proof of that – he’d never risk penning the letter himself. He’s too guileful.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Leeming. ‘He’s the sort of man who could walk through snow without leaving a single footprint.’

  ‘Somebody wrote this letter,’ insisted Tallis.

  Colbeck took it from him. ‘It’s an educated hand,’ he noted, ‘and he’s used stationery of good quality. Lord Hendry, perhaps – now there’s a thought! If he had Tim Maguire in the saddle, Odysseus really would be unbeatable.’

  ‘Tell me about your visit to Mr Fido’s stables.’

  ‘It was very productive, sir.’

  Unlike the sergeant, Colbeck had taken the trouble to prepare his report beforehand so that it was clear and succinct. Though he told the superintendent about his meeting with Bonny Rimmer, he omitted all reference to the fact that he would be using Madeleine Andrews to extract further information from the barmaid. It was another woman who excited Tallis’s curiosity.

  ‘Mr Fido spent the night in a hotel with this person?’ he asked censoriously. ‘Whatever happened to Christian values?’

  ‘He is a bachelor,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘My point exactly.’

  ‘He refused to give me the young lady’s name.’

  ‘Then he must be compelled to do so, Inspector.’

  ‘I think I found a way around that particular problem, sir. Mr Fido will advise her to come forward voluntarily. I’ve every hope that
she’ll take his advice.’

  ‘Gentlemen consorting with unmarried women,’ said Tallis, exhaling a cloud of smoke. ‘Where will it end? First of all we have Lord Hendry sharing a bed with his mistress in Cambridge and now we have Fido indulging in lewd conduct here in London.’

  ‘It’s an intriguing coincidence, isn’t it?’ said Colbeck.

  ‘I think it’s abominable!’

  ‘I don’t hold with it myself,’ said Leeming. ‘Especially in the case of Lord Hendry – he’s married.’

  ‘There’s something that both of you should know,’ said Colbeck who had been saving the revelation until he could spring it on the two of them at once. ‘The young lady involved with Lord Hendry was, in point of fact, the same one who had her hatbox stolen from the Wyvern Hotel where she had been staying with Hamilton Fido.’

  Tallis was flabbergasted. ‘The same one?’

  ‘That’s indecent!’ gasped Leeming. ‘She must be a prostitute.’

  ‘I fancy she’d prefer to be called a courtesan,’ said Colbeck, ‘and considers herself to be continuing a long and honourable tradition.’

  ‘Honourable!’ The superintendent almost exploded.

  ‘In her eyes, sir.’

  ‘Sheer depravity!’

  ‘You can see why I’m so keen to meet her.’

  ‘I’ll leave that disagreeable task to you, Inspector,’ said Tallis with disdain. ‘I don’t want the creature near me.’

  ‘As you wish, sir.’

  ‘Wait a moment,’ said Leeming, weighing up the possibilities in the situation. ‘Did both gentleman realise what was going on?’

  ‘I doubt it very much, Victor.’

  ‘What if she was being used as a spy?’

  ‘At whose behest?’

  ‘Mr Fido’s,’ said Leeming. ‘What better way to learn how Odysseus is faring than by getting someone to win Lord Hendry’s confidence?’

  ‘No,’ decided Colbeck. ‘Hamilton Fido may be manipulative but I don’t believe that even he would loan a young lady for whom he really cares to another man. I learnt today that he has a romantic streak.’

  ‘Romantic!’ echoed Tallis incredulously. ‘What’s romantic about fornicating with a fallen woman? I saw too much of that in the army. I lost count of the number of drunken fools in the lower ranks who persuaded themselves they were in love with some damned whore because she offered them forbidden pleasures.’

 

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