Steps to the Gallows

by Edward Marston

  ‘Why didn’t she report it to you earlier?’

  ‘Hannah felt, quite rightly, that I wouldn’t be content merely to warn him off. I’d have challenged the scoundrel to a duel,’ said Paul. ‘It was the repercussions that frightened Hannah. She feared that I’d be put under arrest for murder. Sir Humphrey has influential friends who might well have ganged up on me.’

  ‘You can get your revenge now, Paul. If we see him at the theatre, you can have the pleasure of calling him to account.’

  ‘It will have to be after the play is over,’ said the other, smiling. ‘Hannah would never forgive me if I interrupted her performance. Were I to commit that act of sacrilege, she’d be encouraging Macbeth to stab me with the dagger instead.’

  Word of mouth and a good critical reception filled every seat at the theatre that evening. There was an anticipatory buzz of excitement. What Peter and Paul observed as they watched the crowd stream in was how many English spectators there were. Shakespeare was not universally popular in Paris. French audiences, reared on Racine and Corneille, were less enthralled for the most part by a translation of a famous tragedy from the country which had humbled Napoleon. Among the many Parisians who did attend, however, was M. Pernelle, as neat and trim as ever. The box in which he sat with friends gave him a perfect view of the stage.

  Peter Skillen also chose a seat with an excellent view but it was not the stage that interested him so much. Seated at the rear of the stalls, he was able to keep an eye on everyone in front of him and guard the exit at the same time. Paul had selected a seat in the dress circle which enabled him to see everyone else in that part of the theatre. If their target did turn up, one of them would see him because Sir Humphrey would be bound to be in one of the more expensive seats or boxes. As it was, there was no sign of him and neither of the brothers sensed that he was there. Deciding that their vigilance would go unrewarded, they settled back to watch the play.

  In fact, Sir Humphrey Coote was in the audience. Cleverly disguised, he sat in a box at the side of the stage with Lancelot Usborne and two of his friend’s burly servants. By wearing a wig, a false beard and nondescript attire, he managed to disappear as the flamboyant character he was. No chances had been taken. In case someone did try to arrest him, Sir Humphrey was armed and the loaded pistol was there for another purpose as well.

  When the play began, he was perched on the edge of his seat, waiting for Hannah Granville to appear and ignoring the rest of the cast. Every time she stepped onstage, there was a concerted gasp of amazement. Her appearance, deportment and use of gesture set her apart from everyone else but it was her voice that endeared her most. Speaking the language with fluency, she had an extraordinary range, welcoming her husband with soft, seductive words then, later on, exhorting him, in a voice of animal intensity, to commit regicide.

  That was the woman he wanted – wild, passionate and indomitable. He could see the full breasts rising and falling beneath her nightgown. When she strode across the stage, he caught a glimpse of her bare legs. Sir Humphrey was enraptured.

  The ovation went on longer than ever. Peter and Paul Skillen clapped until their palms hurt. Up in his box, M. Pernelle was beaming like a proud father. Lady Macbeth had surpassed herself and she deserved to bask in the acclaim. When the applause finally died down and the spectators began to disperse, the two brothers joined in the general exodus and made their way around to the stage door.

  Unknown to them, however, another drama was taking place. With the two servants at his shoulders, Sir Humphrey had climbed on to the stage, stepped behind the scenery, walked to the dressing rooms, found the one that had Hannah’s name emblazoned upon it then, without even knocking, opened the door and stepped inside.

  Jenny was in the act of helping Hannah to remove her costume.

  ‘Get out!’ she demanded. ‘I’ll call the manager.’

  ‘Sortez!’ cried Hannah, thinking that the intruder was French. ‘Sortez!’

  ‘I told you I’d come for you one day,’ he said, ogling her.

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I’m the luckiest man in Paris.’

  He pulled out his pistol and pointed it at her. Hannah was too scared to utter a word but Jenny emitted a scream of horror. It earned her a violent push that sent her sprawling on the floor. Sir Humphrey grabbed a cloak from its hook and put it around Hannah’s naked shoulders.

  ‘Come with me,’ he ordered. ‘Come with me to paradise.’

  Peter and Paul were approaching the stage door when they heard Jenny’s scream. Pushing their way through the group of admirers waiting for a sight of Hannah, they rushed to the door as the two brawny servants were coming out of it. When they tried to enter the building, the brothers were held back by force. Another piercing screech was heard. Recognising Hannah’s voice, Paul went berserk but he was firmly held and unable to break free. Peter, meanwhile, was getting the better of his assailant, grappling and punching to weaken the man’s hold. The door was then flung open and Sir Humphrey came out, one arm around a terrified Hannah while the other brandished the pistol. In the interests of safety, everyone scattered immediately. Walking slowly backwards towards a waiting coach, Sir Humphrey dragged Hannah with him and waved his weapon menacingly.

  ‘Stay back!’ he shouted with a manic laugh. ‘She’s all mine!’

  It was too much for Paul. Even at the risk of being shot, he had to rescue her. With a surge of energy, he shoved his adversary against the wall, banged the man’s head repeatedly against the brickwork then lifted him bodily and flung him to the ground. Defying the pistol, he ran straight towards Hannah.

  Sir Humphrey cocked his weapon and aimed it at Paul but it was never fired. Before he could pull the trigger, the blade of a sword was thrust into his back and through his heart with practised force. It came out through his chest. Shaking with terror, Hannah hurled herself into Paul’s arms. Everybody watched aghast as the lifeless body of Sir Humphrey Coote shuddered, sagged then fell forward on to the ground.

  M. Pernelle stepped in close to extract his sword from its victim with a sudden pull. Though it was dripping with blood, he inserted the weapon back into the cane from which he’d taken it. After giving a polite bow to Hannah, her guardian angel turned on his heel and left.

  Yeomans and Hale were inexperienced horsemen. Having ridden all the way to Paris on hired mounts, they were tired, woebegone and in considerable pain. The first place they went was the British Embassy. To their utter vexation, they saw Peter and Paul Skillen emerging blithely from the building.

  ‘Welcome to Paris!’ said Peter, raising his hat to them. ‘I hope that you enjoy your stay here.’

  ‘We’ll not be staying,’ said Hale. ‘We’ve come to make an arrest.’

  ‘Yes,’ added Yeomans, ‘we’re here to speak to Sir Humphrey Coote.’

  ‘You may find that rather difficult,’ warned Paul.

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘He’s no longer in a mood for conversation.’

  Gully Ackford and Virgil Paige were part of a huge crowd that gathered outside Newgate prison for the executions. As a rule, neither man would have attended such an event. They found it too barbaric and hated the savage baying of the mob. Whole families had gathered to watch Abel Fearon and Sim Higlett being hanged. It was a gruesome affair. The noise was deafening, the taunting was obscene and the execution itself was crude in the extreme. When the first of them was squirming wildly at the end of a rope, the cry of delight that went up was blood-curdling. It was a long time before the friends could make themselves heard.

  ‘Leo can rest in peace now,’ said Paige. ‘I’m only sorry that they didn’t string up Sir Humphrey Coote as well.’

  ‘He met a grisly enough end in Paris,’ said Ackford.

  ‘I still can’t believe that you’d all go to such lengths on our behalf.’

  ‘Leo was a friend of mine, remember.’

  ‘Yes, but the Skillen brothers didn’t know him. Even so, they took enormous risks to ca
tch the rogues who killed him.’

  ‘Peter and Paul thrive on risks.’

  ‘They went all the way to Paris for our sakes.’

  ‘They had their rewards,’ said Ackford. ‘Peter went back to a city that held fond memories for him and Paul was reunited with the woman he loves. Both of them witnessed the death of Sir Humphrey Coote. There’ll be financial reward as well, of course,’ he went on, ‘but that won’t bring them the greatest satisfaction.’

  ‘What will do that, do you think?’

  ‘It’s the knowledge that they beat their rivals yet again. That’s what drives them on. The Bow Street Runners used to rule the roost but Peter and Paul Skillen are the cocks of the walk now.’

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  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

  By Edward Marston

  THE BOW STREET RIVALS SERIES

  Shadow of the Hangman • Steps to the Gallows

  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

  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

  Copyright

  Allison & Busby Limited

  12 Fitzroy Mews

  London W1T 6DW

  www.allisonandbusby.com

  First published in Great Britain by Allison & Busby in 2016.

  This ebook edition first published in 2016.

  Copyright © 2016 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 978–0–7490–1607–4