Rage of the Assassin

by Edward Marston

  ‘He didn’t say, Miss Granville.’

  ‘Weren’t you curious to know?’

  ‘It wasn’t something that we ever talked about.’

  ‘Did he mention his family?’

  ‘He did make a passing reference to them,’ said Dorothea, ‘but I didn’t press him. All I wanted to talk about was the time when we could be together for good.’

  ‘Was Orsino a man of means?’

  ‘Oh, I think so. He always dressed so well.’

  ‘Yet, according to you, he hadn’t established himself as an actor.’

  ‘It was not because he lacked talent,’ insisted Dorothea. ‘I’ve never met anyone with such presence and easy command of language. He was a born actor kept off the stage by envy and spite.’

  ‘Are you saying that he had enemies?’ asked Paul.

  ‘Yes, Mr Skillen. People conspired against him.’

  ‘Why was that?’

  ‘He didn’t go into detail. Orsino simply said that he would turn the tables on them all one day by blazing across the stage in the greatest parts ever written. Also,’ Dorothea went on, ‘he was kind enough to praise my own work.’

  ‘And so he should,’ said Hannah. ‘You’ve done well.’

  ‘He even went so far as to claim that I’d have been a memorable Lady Macbeth because my performance would have had subtleties of which most actresses were not capable.’

  Hannah was roused. ‘Did he not see me in the role?’ she demanded.

  ‘Oh, yes, and he was very impressed.’

  ‘Is that all?’

  ‘Let me go back to an earlier question,’ said Paul, jumping in before Hannah’s irritation got out of hand. ‘You don’t know where Orsino lived, or if he had a source of income, yet you were ready to entrust your future to him.’

  ‘He promised to look after me,’ said Dorothea, simply, ‘and I had no reason to question that. As for money, he did mention it once.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘That he was about to earn a large amount for very little work.’

  ‘When was this?’

  ‘It must have been three or four days ago.’

  ‘And where was this money coming from?’

  ‘Orsino said it was from work as an actor, then he burst out laughing.’

  ‘Didn’t you press him for detail?’

  ‘No, Mr Skillen. I was simply delighted for him.’

  ‘Who was going to employ Orsino?’ asked Hannah.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Did he say how much money he’d be receiving?’

  ‘No, but he promised me that it would be a lot – enough for us to do all the things that we’d talked about.’

  She smiled for the first time since they’d picked her up from her lodging. Paul and Hannah were momentarily overcome with sympathy. They knew that the promises would never be delivered now. They also suspected that Orsino Price had deceived Dorothea completely, but they were careful not to mention their suspicions. In Dorothea’s mind, Price had been her saviour and they didn’t want to tarnish that image for her. Hannah put a consoling arm around her, but Paul was still thinking about what they’d just been told.

  ‘Tell me about the boast he made to you,’ he said. ‘When exactly was it?’

  Having sworn that he’d do anything that his friend asked, Alan Kinnaird was having second thoughts. He hadn’t realised how much danger was involved. Seeing his hesitation, Harry Scattergood sought to dispel the doubts. His plan required an accomplice and Kinnaird was the only person he could trust. Instead of arguing with him, therefore, he took his friend on a short walk to a wall where reward notices were regularly pasted up. He pointed to the one relating to Sir Roger Mellanby’s murder. When he saw the amount on offer, Kinnaird’s jaw dropped.

  ‘We’d get all that?’ he asked.

  ‘It would be shared between us, Alan.’

  ‘But I’d be the one taking the biggest risk.’

  ‘There’s a way that risk can be eliminated,’ said Scattergood. ‘Put your faith in me. Have I ever let you down before?’

  ‘No, Harry.’

  ‘Does that mean you’ll help me?’

  Kinnaird looked at the reward notice. ‘Yes,’ he promised. ‘I may be putting my head in a noose but, after all you’ve done for me, I’ll trust you to pull it out again.’

  Charlotte was alone when her husband returned to the shooting gallery and he gave her a welcoming embrace and a kiss. When he’d released her from his grasp, Peter gave her a concise account of what he’d learnt during his time in Nottingham. He also mentioned his disappointing visit to the Home Office.

  ‘I’m not quite sure why,’ he confessed, ‘but I came away with a sense of failure.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘It was just this feeling I had in the pit of my stomach.’

  ‘You’ve always got on so well with the Home Secretary before,’ she said.

  ‘Perhaps I was expecting too much of him, Charlotte.’

  ‘Do you think he was dishonest?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ replied Peter, ‘but I sensed that there was a distinct limit to his honesty. He was politely evasive, and I’ve never seen that side of Viscount Sidmouth before. He greeted me as a friend, yet he began to look at me as an interloper.’

  ‘You must speak to Paul.’

  ‘I can’t wait to compare notes with him.’

  ‘He’s been talking to a Captain Golightly, who was a good friend of Mellanby. Paul asked him a blunt question. If the government decided that Mellanby was a serious problem, who would give the order to have him killed?’

  ‘What was Golightly’s answer?’

  ‘The Home Secretary.’

  ‘No,’ said Peter, ‘I can’t believe he’d sanction an assassination like that.’

  ‘Captain Golightly said that he had to be the chief suspect.’

  ‘Did he offer any other names?’

  ‘Yes, he did. One was a man who’d been injured in a duel with Sir Roger and had threatened to kill him. The other two were both politicians.’

  ‘Can you remember their names?’

  ‘Let me see,’ said Charlotte. ‘One was Sir Marcus Brough, I believe. Yes, that’s right. Paul had a long conversation with him. That didn’t happen when he approached the other man. In fact, he was very rude to your brother.’

  ‘What was his name?’

  ‘I’ve forgotten, I’m afraid but …’ She racked her brains. ‘Wait a moment,’ she said, ‘I do remember his position in the Cabinet.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘He was the President of the Board of Trade.’

  ‘Oswald Ferriday.’

  ‘That was the name,’ she agreed. ‘However did you know it?’

  ‘I met him at the Home Office,’ explained Peter, ‘and he stared at me as if he wanted to see me boiled in oil. I realise why now. Ferriday must have mistaken me for Paul. It’s not the first time someone has done that,’ he added with a wry smile, ‘and I daresay it won’t be the last.’

  Any reservations that Paul had had about keeping Dorothea Glenn ignorant of the truth about her beloved had been swept away. He and Hannah would never have got the vital information that had emerged if the young actress had been stunned by news of his murder. From what he’d been told about Orsino Price, he was able to build up a picture of him. If he could win the confidence of someone like Dorothea, he must have been highly plausible, concealing far more about himself than he actually told her yet somehow persuading her that he was an acceptable suitor. Paul had met lots of failed actors like him: handsome, cunning, apparently agreeable young men who hung around on the fringes of the theatrical world in search of a way to advance their careers on the stage. Instinctively rejecting the advances she’d received in the past, Dorothea had somehow found Price irresistible.

  Leaving her in Hannah’s care, Paul paid a visit to Captain Golightly to make him aware of the latest development. The latter was delighted with the news.

&nbs
p; ‘That’s more than we could have hoped,’ said Golightly. ‘This wretched fellow was clearly the assassin’s apprentice. One thing concerns me, however. If all that he had to do was to cause a distraction, he couldn’t have been paid very much. Why was he boasting to Miss Glenn that he was about to enjoy a windfall?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that,’ said Paul.

  ‘And what did you conclude?’

  ‘My feeling is that Price didn’t realise exactly why he’d been hired. What he thought was a simple task turned out to have a sinister aspect. All of a sudden, he was an unwitting accomplice in a murder.’

  ‘That must have shaken him.’

  ‘I’m sure that it did at first. But it also gave him a weapon to use against the man who’d picked him out. He was in a position to name the killer. The first thing he’d do would be to demand more money from him.’

  ‘Blackmail can be a lucrative crime.’

  ‘That must have been where his sudden wealth was going to come from. To arrange the assassination of an important public figure would have cost a great deal of money. Price, I suspect, wanted a share of it.’

  ‘What amount would he have put on his silence?’

  ‘A very high one, I fancy,’ said Paul.

  ‘That would have irked the assassin.’

  ‘It’s more than likely that he’d have decided the only way to escape Price’s threat was to shut his mouth for ever. A knife through the heart was all that it took.’

  ‘Miss Glenn is going to be devastated when she learns the truth.’

  ‘We’ll help her through it as best we can.’

  ‘And meanwhile …?’

  ‘I’ll continue to hunt for the man behind the assassination.’

  ‘What about the killer himself?’

  ‘I’ll squeeze his name out of his paymaster,’ vowed Paul. ‘All I have to do is to find out who that paymaster is.’

  ‘You know my feeling. The Home Secretary is your man.’

  ‘I refuse to believe it. My brother, Peter, worked closely with him during the war and vouches for his character. It wasn’t Sidmouth but it may well have been another politician.’

  ‘Which one is it – Sir Marcus Brough or Oswald Ferriday?’

  ‘I hope to find out very soon, Captain Golightly.’

  Though he could foresee scant hopes of success, Chevy Ruddock obeyed his orders and began his search in Covent Garden. It was as crowded and raucous as ever. Having memorised the description of Giles Clearwater, he was startled to find how many people it seemed to fit. He accosted almost a dozen men, demanding their names and getting everything from mild annoyance to snarling denial in return. In the end, he decided on a change of tactics that might save him from outright abuse. Aware of its appeal for actors and fops, Ruddock therefore adjourned to the Golden Crown, only to be met by another bevy of potential Clearwaters. Wisely, he didn’t approach them, preferring instead to look around in order to assess his options.

  The place was full of men, striking a pose or engaging in arguments that allowed them to raise loud, braying voices and to gesticulate wildly. Ruddock felt completely out of his depth. He then spotted the old man seated alone in a corner and nursing a half-glass of an amber liquid. In a room swirling with people and their deafening conversations, he seemed out of place. Ruddock went across and introduced himself. Simeon Howlett listened patiently then shook his head.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Ruddock,’ he said, ‘I know of no Giles Clearwater.’

  ‘He’d be likely to come into a place like this.’

  ‘So are hundreds of others. I can’t keep track of all their names.’

  ‘Where is the best place to look for such a man?’

  ‘The Golden Crown is as good a place as any to start,’ said Howlett, ‘though there is a problem. If I haven’t heard of this actor, nobody else will have done so.’

  ‘We don’t know if he’s an actor.’

  ‘Then what do you know about the fellow?’

  Ruddock shrugged. ‘Very little, I fear.’

  ‘Then you’ve been sent on a fool’s errand.’

  ‘No, Mr Howlett, that’s not true at all. Clearwater really does exist. I’ve spoken with two people who’ve met him and were able to tell me about his manner and appearance. I simply must find him.’

  ‘Then I wish I could help. What was the name again?’

  ‘Clearwater – Giles Clearwater.’

  ‘Let me concentrate for a moment.’ He downed the remains of his drink then handed the glass to Ruddock. ‘Tell the landlord it’s for me. He’ll know what to get.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  ‘Meanwhile, I’ll put my thinking cap on.’

  Ruddock went off into the jostling crowd and eventually reached the bar counter. Since he was not a regular patron of the establishment, he found that he had to wait while those who were had the privilege of being served first. It was several minutes before he was able to fight his way back to the old actor.

  ‘There you are,’ he said, placing the glass in front of him.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Ruddock.’

  ‘Have you remembered anything?’

  ‘Yes and no,’ replied Howlett. ‘I vaguely remember the name but I cannot, for the life of me, connect it to a human being. The mind plays tricks on you at my age. Things get horribly jumbled. Leave me to mull it over, Mr Ruddock. If I give it time, this tired old brain of mine might start to work again. It might even tell me who Giles Clearwater is or was.’ He smiled apologetically. ‘That’s the best I can offer you, I fear.’ He raised the glass. ‘Good health to you, sir!’

  While he was glad that he’d made the effort to go to Nottingham, Peter was relieved to be home again. Ackford and Huckvale were pleased to see him back at the shooting gallery and listened with interest to his account of his travels. Peter was not allowed to bask in their welcome for long. Two visitors arrived and the mood changed immediately. Yeomans and Hale were steaming with resentment when they came in.

  ‘What’s this about you going to Nottingham?’ demanded Yeomans.

  ‘It’s a free country, isn’t it?’ said Peter. ‘I can go wherever I wish.’

  ‘We have it on good authority that you went there to get information about Sir Roger Mellanby.’

  ‘Don’t bother to deny it,’ said Hale. ‘Sir Roger’s son complained about you.’

  ‘He doesn’t want you anywhere near his family,’ added Yeomans. ‘He wants this investigation to be in the hands of the people most likely to catch the villains involved. The Prince Regent said the same thing.’

  ‘I didn’t hear him,’ said Peter.

  ‘We have his ear.’

  ‘Then perhaps you can whisper something into it for me. Tell him that you’re so incapable of handling a case as complex as this that you’ve called on us to help.’

  ‘We’d never employ our rivals,’ shouted Yeomans. ‘We’re here to order you to stop interfering in our case.’

  ‘But we were expressly invited to do so.’

  ‘That’s a lie.’

  ‘I’d suggest that you talk to Seth Hooper,’ said Peter, ‘except that it would involve a journey to and from Nottingham, and the pair of you never go far from the Peacock. Mr Hooper travelled to London with Sir Roger.’

  ‘We’ve never heard of the man.’

  ‘Yes, you have, but you didn’t have the courtesy even to talk to him. When he was rebuffed by you, he came to us. In a sense, our invitation to take part in this case comes from the whole of Nottingham. We could hardly refuse it, could we?’

  ‘Let me put it more clearly,’ said Yeomans, inflating his chest. ‘We don’t want you meddling in this case, Sir Roger’s son doesn’t want you and His Royal Highness doesn’t want you. Isn’t that plain enough for you?’

  ‘Show me the law that forbids a concerned citizen from trying to solve a murder. Explain to me the right by which Edmund Mellanby can prevent me from finding his father’s killer. And,’ continued Peter, raising his voice, ‘l
et me have a copy of the royal decree that prevents my brother and me from plying our trade.’

  ‘It’s our trade,’ bleated Hale.

  ‘Then why don’t you learn to do it properly?’

  ‘We’re experts. That’s why we’ve gathered information about this case that you could never get. We know a man who was outside the theatre on the night of the murder.’

  ‘His name is Paul Skillen, my brother.’

  ‘This man actually saw the killer.’

  ‘Be quiet, Alfred,’ said Yeomans.

  ‘But he needs to know that he can’t compete with us. Giles Clearwater didn’t come here, did he? He came straight to us.’

  ‘I told you to be quiet.’

  ‘Are you claiming that this man was a witness?’ asked Peter.

  ‘That’s exactly what he was,’ Hale blurted out.

  ‘Shut up!’ roared Yeomans into his ear. ‘We’re here to warn Skillen and his brother not to give away secrets.’ He turned to Peter. ‘Spare yourselves the time and energy,’ he went on. ‘This case is all but solved. Get out of our way or I’ll be forced to use more direct measures.’

  ‘Take your pick,’ said Peter, indicating the weapons on display. ‘You can fight us with swords, boxing gloves or pistols. And the beauty of it is that we won’t charge you a penny for whichever lesson we give you.’

  Unable to find a rejoinder, Yeomans grabbed Hale by the collar and dragged him out. Peter allowed himself a chuckle, then his brow furrowed.

  ‘Who is Giles Clearwater?’ he asked.

  Because there was no entertainment on offer that evening, the theatre was deserted. When he took his friend to the stage door, therefore, Harry Scattergood could be confident that they wouldn’t be interrupted. Having mastered the details of what had happened on the night of the murder, he had to pass them on to Kinnaird.

  ‘You were standing there, Alan,’ he said, pointing.

  ‘Was I?’

  ‘Yes, that means you had a clear shot at Sir Roger Mellanby.’

  ‘But I’ve never even heard of the man.’

  ‘You’d been told exactly what he looked like.’