‘Stay away from me,’ she cried.
‘Now that’s not the way to start our honeymoon, is it?’ he taunted.
After letting himself out, he locked the door behind him. Rhoda could hear his laughter echoing along the corridor. She went back to the window and looked down. Cullen was right. There was no escape. Rhoda was trapped.
Miraculously, the swell seemed to drop, the wind lost its bite and the vessel was able to sail on an even keel. Though the sea was by no means calm, it no longer rocked their steam packet so violently. Even someone as unsettled as Victor Leeming felt the urge to go up on deck and sample the fresh air. Colbeck and Madeleine were already there, standing in the stern and watching the posse of gulls that had trailed them from Holyhead. Momentarily, they felt as if they were setting off on a holiday but the sensation then vanished. They were in pursuit of two dangerous men and that ruled out any possibility of leisure or enjoyment.
‘What are Irish railways like?’ she asked.
‘You may well have the chance to find out, Madeleine.’
‘You travelled on them before, didn’t you?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘The system is nowhere near as complex as the one we know but, then again, it’s not so absurdly cluttered. While we have far too many railway companies, Ireland has too few, but that will change in time.’
‘Father thinks that one company should have a complete monopoly.’
‘And would that company happen to be the LNWR?’
Madeleine laughed. ‘How ever did you guess that?’
‘And I daresay that a standard gauge would be compulsory and your father would have Brunel exiled to the most distant part of the British Empire.’
Chatting happily, they walked arm in arm beside the bulwark until Colbeck saw something out of the corner of his eye. He kept up the same unvarying pace as they walked past the saloon.
‘Wait here,’ he said, drawing her aside.
‘Where are you going, Robert?’
‘I’ll tell you in a moment.’
Doubling back, he used the crowded deck as a means of moving unseen towards the stern, ducking and dodging as he moved along. Dozens of people were standing at the bulwark, gazing out to sea. Leeming was one of them but Colbeck left him where he was. The person who interested him was sauntering along with a cigar in his mouth. When he drew level, Colbeck clamped a hand on his shoulder.
‘I thought I recognised you, Kee.’
‘Good day to you, Inspector,’ said the other, amiably.
‘You followed us.’
‘That’s not true at all. I’ve always wanted to visit Ireland.’
‘Don’t lie to me,’ said Colbeck. ‘You’d never have tracked them on your own so you sneaked after us. You’re not part of this investigation.’
‘I ought to be,’ argued Kee. ‘Tunnadine was not the most pleasant man to work for but he paid me handsomely. I owe it to him to catch his killer.’
‘You owed it to us to give an honest account of his death.’
‘That’s what I gave you, Inspector.’
‘Not quite,’ said Colbeck. ‘I felt that the facts had been doctored slightly and so did Sergeant Dean. If you followed us to Crewe, you’ll know that I went off to the police station. The sergeant was an astute man. Because you told him exactly where Mr Tunnadine had been shot, he rode out there to examine the site and he noticed a lacuna in your story.’
‘I gave you both a truthful report.’
‘Then you are a poor strategist. You obviously learnt nothing from your time at Scotland Yard. Why hide in a ditch when the hedge on the other side of the field would have served your purpose far better?’
Alban Kee was about to rely on bluff but he knew that it would have no effect.
‘Very well,’ he admitted, ‘perhaps I did make one slight change to the story. I was hiding behind the hedge when someone clubbed me from behind.’ He removed his hat. ‘I had a lump the size of an egg. You can still see it.’
‘Yes, I can,’ said Colbeck. ‘It serves you right for not looking over your shoulder. Count yourself lucky that your attacker didn’t finish you off there and then. Tunnadine didn’t pay you to tell lies.’
‘He paid me to protect him and I failed.’ Kee replaced his hat gingerly. ‘Use me, Inspector. Every investigation needs another pair of hands.’
‘Yours are tainted, Kee. They’ve taken too many bribes.’
‘Never listen to false rumours.’
‘Never defy Superintendent Tallis,’ warned Colbeck. ‘He said categorically that you were not involved in this case. When we reach port, I’m putting you on the first vessel back to North Wales. If you resist, I’ll report you to the superintendent on my return.’
Kee smirked. ‘Two can play at that game.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘If you report me for interfering in an investigation,’ said the other, ‘then I’ll report you for recruiting your wife as a detective. That is Mrs Colbeck, isn’t it? You and she seem very close.’ He chortled. ‘What is it to be? Do I stay and help you or does Tallis hear that you’ve dared to employ a woman?’
Colbeck was cornered. He knew only too well what the superintendent would say if he found out the truth. Colbeck’s own position at Scotland Yard would be in doubt. The very notion of a female detective was an abomination to Tallis.
Kee smirked again. ‘It looks as if you have another assistant,’ he said, chirpily. ‘Why don’t you introduce me to Mrs Colbeck? She and I are two of a kind. Officially, neither of us actually exists.’
Imogen Burnhope was panic-stricken. In crossing the Irish Sea, she’d been taken further and further away from the possibility of rescue. She’d also been deprived of the company of her maid. Yet protest had no effect on her captor. Whiteside had her completely under his control and she could do nothing. She was horrified when they reached the hotel and she was taken off to the bedroom booked by Cullen for them. Whiteside had stolen her heart, betrayed her, kidnapped her and tricked her father out of an immense sum of money. Even more alarming was the fact that he’d let Cullen shoot the man to whom she’d been engaged. Imogen had lost almost everything – her freedom, her family, her maid, her friends and her trust in human nature. All that she had left to forfeit was her virginity and the thought petrified her.
The irony was that she’d been more than ready to yield it up in the marriage bed to the man who now led her into the hotel room. But there was no wedding and the person she’d adored was now both hated and feared. Hands on hips, Whiteside studied her with a proprietorial smile.
‘You’re all mine now, Mrs Whiteside.’
‘I’m not your wife and never will be,’ she retorted.
‘That’s not what you said in your letters,’ he reminded her. ‘You wanted to be Juliet to my Romeo, a passionate woman who defies her family to run off with the man she loves and marry in secret. Well, here I am, and unlike Romeo, I won’t be taking poison to give the impression that I’m dead. I’m very much alive, Imogen, as you’ll soon find out.’
‘I want to see Rhoda.’
‘She’s rather preoccupied with Manus.’
‘What’s he doing with her?’
‘I daresay that he’s thinking about consummating the marriage – not that he and your maid are actually married, of course, but he’ll overlook that. Manus is very accommodating in such situations.’ When he stroked her hair, she backed away at once. ‘There’s nowhere to run. Why not surrender graciously?’
‘I don’t want you anywhere near me, Terence.’
‘Your letters told a different story.’
‘That was because I was beguiled. You used Shakespeare to ensnare me.’
‘Yes,’ he said, happily, ‘the Bard was a very useful accomplice. I’ve long admired his work, you see. Before I joined the army, I worked as an actor for a while and took part in some of Shakespeare’s plays. It was an education. Once you’ve learnt the lines, you never forget them. Once you fall under the spell of the
sonnets, you want to pass on their magic, as I did to you.’
‘That was cruel and despicable of you.’
‘It may seem so at the moment, Imogen. When you get to know me properly, you realise that I’m the charming and devoted swain that you took me for at the start. I courted you and conquered you, remember.’ He opened the door. ‘By the time I come back, I expect you to have accepted that.’
Victor Leeming was angry that Kee had followed them and manipulated himself into the investigation. The situation was irremediable, however, so he agreed to work with the private detective. Earlier in their careers, the two men had got on well. It was only when Kee was corrupted that the two fell out. There was professional rivalry at stake. Having been on the track of the kidnappers from the very start, Leeming expected Colbeck and himself to be instrumental in the arrest. They had put in the long, taxing days of pursuit. He didn’t want Kee to steal their thunder.
Madeleine disliked their new assistant from the outset. He seemed too glib and devious for her taste. It was evident that he wanted to be the one to catch the fugitives and claim the credit. Colbeck decided to forget their past differences and exploit the man’s skills. By working for Tunnadine, he’d earned a place in the investigation and was eager. The blow delivered by Cullen had wounded Kee’s head and his pride. He wanted revenge, always a powerful incentive.
When the ship docked, they were among the first to disembark. Colbeck had already given them their orders. Having spoken to the captain of the vessel, he’d learnt the names of the best hotels in Dublin and deployed his men accordingly. Leeming was sent off in one direction with a shortlist of names while Kee went to check out hotels in the opposite direction. Colbeck and Madeleine would work their way through a third list. He stressed that nobody was to tackle the kidnappers on his own. If they were discovered, he was to alert the others when they met at an agreed location at the heart of the city.
Leeming went off with resolute strides but Kee fairly scampered away.
‘I don’t like him, Robert,’ said Madeleine. ‘He’s too sly.’
‘Since I’m landed with him, I have to use him.’
‘I’m glad you didn’t send them off together. Victor obviously detests him.’
‘Yes, Kee is an unprepossessing individual,’ said Colbeck, sighing. ‘He’s also a potential weakness, which is why I hope we find the kidnappers first.’
‘I don’t understand,’ she said.
‘Captain Whiteside and his accomplice have never seen us. We have the advantage of surprise. Alban Kee doesn’t. He was knocked unconscious by Sergeant Cullen. If he turns up at their hotel, he might be recognised.’
Sir Marcus Burnhope was under immense strain. Expecting to be contacted by the kidnappers yet again, he kept going to the window in the library and peering out. The rest of them were there but, in the tense atmosphere, nobody dared to speak. Percy Vaughan was seated beside his aunt so that she could draw strength from his presence. A nervous Emma was on the sofa, flanked by her parents. Vaughan was looking enviously around the shelves and Cassandra, for once, was silent, her effervescence sapped by the seriousness of the situation. When Sir Marcus was at rest, the only sound in the room was the methodical ticking of the ormolu clock on the marble mantelpiece. When it chimed on the hour, they were all startled.
Without any of the detectives, Sir Marcus felt bereft. Tallis was in London but the whereabouts of Colbeck and Leeming were unknown. It left Sir Marcus feeling isolated. If a ransom demand did come, he wanted someone there to advise him. It irked him to think he might have to pay the kidnappers twice yet he’d do so if it would ensure his daughter’s release. Hands behind his back, he did a circuit of the library, impervious to the others. He was about to return to his seat when he heard hoof beats approaching the house at speed. As he darted to the window, he found Dominic Vaughan beside him, equally anxious to see who the newcomer was. A figure in uniform galloped up to the front of the house and reined in his horse before dismounting.
‘Stay here,’ said Sir Marcus, heading for the door.
The others waited for several minutes before he returned. Desperate for news, they were all on their feet at once. He waved a piece of paper in the air.
‘This was sent to the telegraph station at Shrub Hill,’ he announced. ‘It’s a message from Superintendent Tallis.’
‘What does it say?’ croaked his wife.
‘Inspector Colbeck has gone to Ireland.’
Cassandra voiced the general dismay. ‘What is Imogen doing there?’
The loss of Rhoda Wills was a devastating blow to Imogen. The woman had been both friend and fellow prisoner, sharing the same privations and doing her best to keep their morale high. It was thanks to Rhoda that they’d attempted to escape and, even though they’d failed, they had the satisfaction of knowing that they’d done something positive instead of just meekly waiting to see what would happen to them. Their punishment had been separation. Together, they could support each other; apart, they were powerless. When she stood at the window of her hotel room, Imogen looked down on pretty rows of Georgian houses with a pleasing symmetry. People were hurrying to and fro on foot or by cab. While they were enjoying the precious gift of freedom, Imogen was locked away, dreading the moment when Terence Whiteside would return to claim his prize. She was in purgatory.
Whiteside was in the hotel bar, savouring a celebratory drink with Cullen. They sat in a quiet corner and congratulated themselves on their achievement. Their haul was big enough to keep both of them in a state of prosperity for the rest of their lives, with the added bonus – at least in the short term – of an attractive mistress for each of them. Cullen was practical.
‘How long do we keep them?’
‘They can stay until we tire of them, Manus.’
‘Then what happens? We can hardly let them go now.’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ said Whiteside. ‘Enjoy what we have to the full before we think of getting rid of it. Before that, of course, we can divide the spoils.’
‘What about the jewellery?’
‘That belongs to Imogen.’
‘I think we should have half each.’
‘Then you’re very much mistaken.’
‘I’ve seen it,’ said Cullen. ‘It’s worth a fortune. I’m not going to miss out on my share of that. All right,’ he went on, sensing his friend’s hostility, ‘let her keep it as long as she’s with us but, when we dispose of her, it’s a different story.’
‘Don’t get too greedy,’ said Whiteside.
‘And don’t you get too forgetful. Fifty-fifty was the split we agreed and you’ve already reneged on that, Terence.’
‘No, I haven’t.’
‘Then take a look at the ladies side by side. You get the real beauty and I have to make do with the other one. That’s not fifty-fifty,’ he joked. ‘By rights, we ought to take it in turns with Sir Marcus’s daughter.’
‘She’s all mine,’ warned Whiteside, picking up his glass, ‘and so is her jewellery for the time being. Bear that in mind, Manus.’
While they discussed their plans and enjoyed their drink, they were both thinking about what awaited them upstairs. Whiteside was patient but Cullen’s mind kept drifting. In the end, he excused himself and sauntered out of the bar on his way to an enforced tryst with Rhoda Wills. Seconds later, he was back.
‘Terence,’ he said, sitting beside him, ‘he’s out there.’
‘Who is?’
‘It’s that detective I knocked out in Crewe. He’s followed us. We haven’t escaped, after all.’
‘Calm down, calm down,’ said Whiteside. ‘Is the fellow alone?’
‘He seemed to be.’
‘Then there’s nothing to worry about. If he was hiding behind that hedge, he may have seen me but not you.’
‘That’s true. He won’t know me from Adam.’
Whiteside stood up. ‘What was he doing?’
‘He was talking to the manager.’
‘
Get out there and keep an eye on him,’ said the other, easing him towards the door. ‘I’ll sneak off upstairs. Let me know what he does and how you think we should react. Remind me of his name.’
‘Alban Kee.’
Kee had done it so many times before that he was an old hand. When he’d asked for information about hotel guests, managers had invariably become indignant and told him that it was against their policy to disclose details of any kind to strangers. All that Kee had to do was to slip some banknotes into the manager’s palm and the hotel register was suddenly open to him. He felt a glow of triumph when he saw the name of Terence Whiteside, ostensibly travelling with his wife. In the next room, Manus Cullen was staying with Mrs Cullen. Kee was thrilled. Those were the names given to him by Colbeck. He’d found the kidnappers.
His orders were to go to the meeting place and await the others. Since the guests were booked in, they would not be going anywhere. Kee could come back with reinforcements and the arrests could be made. On the other hand, if he caught both men himself, he could bask in the glory. After seeing such a display of courage and enterprise, Tallis was bound to have him back in Scotland Yard. Kee would not only have proved his mettle, he would have outshone Robert Colbeck at last. There would be a substantial reward from Sir Marcus Burnhope and the kind of lavish praise in the newspapers that he had always sought.
The decision was made. They were his.
Colbeck was getting both restive and annoyed with himself. He and Madeleine had been waiting for some time in Sackville Street, the grand thoroughfare that ran through the middle of Dublin, lending a grace and elegance that was reminiscent of towns like Bath and Cheltenham. The street was wide enough to allow a carriage and four horses to turn in a circle and there was a bright cleanliness about the city that would put most of the districts of London to shame. Leeming had been to the four hotels on his list without success. Colbeck and Madeleine had visited the same number.
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