11 - Ticket to Oblivion (19 page)

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Authors: Edward Marston

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Historical

BOOK: 11 - Ticket to Oblivion
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Though she was pleased to see him, her wariness was evident. He called for a decanter of wine. When the servant had poured two glasses, Tunnadine and his mistress were left alone to drink, relax and enjoy each other’s company. The bruises on her arms had been covered by her dress but, in spite of the cosmetics, he could see the telltale marks on her face. The main thing was that he’d now been forgiven.

Lucinda was even beginning to tantalise him a little. The compact had been made. He would spend the night in her bed and drive away the hideous memories of his earlier visit. Lucinda needed to be indulged.

‘Did you mean what you said when you brought those flowers?’ she asked.

‘I’m a man of honour, Lucinda. Of course, I meant it.’ He sipped his wine. ‘What exactly was it that I said?’

‘To be honest, you didn’t exactly put it into words. You hinted.’

‘And what was the import of my hint?’

She waved an arm. ‘I could look to remain here for a while.’

‘You can stay for longer than that, Lucinda. You’ve earned this house. My visits may be less regular in future but you won’t be ignored, I guarantee. I think you know by now that I’m a man who enjoys the pleasures of life.’

‘It’s a joy to share them with you,’ she said, nestling against his shoulder. ‘You’ve taught me so much.’

‘And you, conversely, have been an excellent tutor to me.’

‘I am always at your command.’

‘That’s what I like to hear.’

They emptied their glasses, refilled them and got steadily more excited about the night of abandon that beckoned them. Tunnadine slipped an arm around her shoulders and took a first, lingering kiss. Lucinda stroked his thigh gently. When he put his glass aside, he stood up so that she could remove his frock coat for him. As she hung it carefully over a chair, she gave a teasing smile.

‘Are you going to be nice to me tonight?’ she asked.

‘I’m going to be extremely nice and extravagantly attentive.’

‘Make sure that you are, Clive.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Because you’ve given me a power over you,’ she taunted.
‘When a man gets married, he puts a dangerous weapon into the hands of his mistress.’ She plucked at his cravat. ‘If you don’t behave exactly as I want you to, then I’ll turn blackmailer and threaten to tell your wife.’

It was a disastrous comment to make. Blind rage seized Tunnadine and he lashed out violently. His first punch knocked her against the wall where he continued to belabour her with both fists. Blood gushed from her nose. He knocked out her two front teeth with a fearsome blow. When she fell to the floor in agony, he kicked her in the stomach then grabbed his coat.

‘Get out of this house!’ he shouted. ‘If you dare to approach my wife, I swear that I’ll kill you with my bare hands.’

It was over.

Early departures were a feature of the Colbeck household and Madeleine had learnt to accept them. A criminal investigation had an irregular timetable. Detectives had to respond to the turn of events and fit any domestic arrangements around them. Because he’d had the pleasure of spending another night at home, Colbeck did not complain when he had to leave shortly after dawn. Madeleine helped him on with his coat, then inspected him. He was as immaculate as ever.

‘When you left Oxford all those years ago,’ she said, ‘I’ll wager that you never thought you’d return there one day to investigate a crime.’

‘That’s true, Madeleine. In my undergraduate days, my vision of the future centred on prosecuting dangerous felons in a court of law. Now, I simply catch them.’

‘Do you expect to catch this Captain Whiteside and his accomplice?’

‘I have every hope of doing so.’

‘He sounds like a worthy adversary.’

‘Having been a soldier,’ he said, ‘he knows about strategy. It was the same with one of those men we apprehended in Scotland earlier this year. His military experience taught him to plan carefully ahead.’

‘What will happen to the two ladies?’ she asked.

‘With luck, they’ll be returned safely to Burnhope Manor.’

‘It will be a fraught homecoming.’

‘Our task is to take some of the anguish out of it.’

‘The fact is that they ran away from the house and all that it represented. Imogen Burnhope’s parents will have been horrified to learn that. There could be some serious repercussions.’

‘Only if the parents are told the truth,’ he pointed out, ‘and I’ve done my best to disguise it from them. You’re right, Madeleine. The two of them will chafe at being held as hostages but they will also dread the reception they’ll get when they’re released. Rhoda Wills, I daresay, will expect to be summarily dismissed for her part in the escapade. I want to save her reputation and that of her mistress. The only way to do that is to deceive their parents.’

Madeleine smiled. ‘I didn’t know you were a master of deception, Robert.’

‘I have more than one string to my bow.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘There are so many, I’ve lost count of them.’

Reaching for his hat, he was about to leave when a thought detained him.

‘I wish that I could take you with me, Madeleine,’ he said.

‘Wouldn’t I be a distraction?’

‘You’d be a godsend to Imogen Burnhope and her maid. For days now, they’ve been in the hands of two heartless men whom they must have suspected by now of misleading them. What sort of ill-treatment have they had to endure? What kind of despair are they feeling?’

‘It’s impossible to imagine,’ she said with a sigh of sympathy.

‘If indeed they
are
released, what they will see are three detectives and Sir Marcus Burnhope. What they really need at that moment, however, is not a quartet of men but an understanding woman who can console and reassure them.’ He stroked her cheek. ‘You’d fit that role perfectly.’

‘Thank you, Robert.’

‘It would make things much easier for them.’

‘What would Superintendent Tallis say?’

Colbeck laughed. ‘His cry of rage would echo across six counties.’

‘One day, he’ll have to accept the value of women in law enforcement.’

‘That day is centuries away,’ he said, bestowing a farewell kiss. ‘We’ve yet to convince our dear superintendent to accept the value of women.’

 

Ironically, the locomotive that took them to Oxford was
Will Shakspere.
When they boarded the train at Shrub Hill, Edward Tallis and Sir Marcus Burnhope didn’t realise that it was the same engine that had taken the two fugitives on the first stage of their flight. In the comfort of their first-class compartment, both men
complained when wisps of acrid smoke seeped in as they went through the Mickleton Tunnel. It never occurred to them that the driver and the fireman would be enshrouded in the billowing smoke because they had no protection whatsoever from it or from the elements. Concern for his fellow men was not something that Sir Marcus ever felt, especially when he was helping to pilot punitive legislation through the House of Commons.

‘What if they attempt some subterfuge?’ he asked.

‘I think it unlikely, Sir Marcus. The kidnappers will realise that they can’t get away with deception again.’

‘These loathsome wretches are as slippery as eels.’

‘Eels can be caught with the right net,’ said Tallis, complacently. ‘The name of that net is Inspector Colbeck.’

‘I hope that he’ll be at Oxford station to greet us.’

‘He’ll not only be there, he’ll have hired transport to take us to the location of the exchange. You may expect a protest from him.’

‘Why?’

‘Colbeck won’t be at all happy that you are planning to hand over the money yourself.’

‘Imogen is my daughter!’ bellowed Sir Marcus.

‘It’s your personal safety that we have to consider.’

‘I don’t give a fig for that, man. In order to get her back, I’ll face any kind of danger. Well,’ he went on, ‘wouldn’t you do the same if it was a daughter of yours?’

‘I’m not married, Sir Marcus.’

‘You should be. It would make you less stuffy.’

Tallis was dumbfounded. Nobody had ever dared to say such a thing to him. He felt insulted, particularly as the criticism came for a man whose commitments as a senior
politician left him with almost no time to forge a bond with his only child. It took the superintendent fifteen minutes before he was able to speak again.

‘Why not let Colbeck
accompany
you at the exchange, Sir Marcus?’

‘The ransom demand stipulated that I should be there alone.’

‘You could feign weakness and in need of someone to support you.’

‘I’m not
that
decrepit yet, Tallis.’

‘It was only an idea.’

‘Please refrain from having another one.’

‘I’ll do as you wish, Sir Marcus.’

Tallis retreated into silence. Travelling with a member of the aristocracy meant a reversal of roles for him. Instead of being in charge and above contradiction, he was forced to do as he was told. It made him think of his days as a schoolboy when he was under the thumb of a despotic headmaster who liked to enforce his edicts with the swish of a cane. Sir Marcus had not actually struck him but Tallis felt that the remark about his bachelorhood was akin to the punishment he’d received at school. Both had left a lasting sting and a burning resentment.

The train steamed noisily into Oxford station and Tallis was pleased to see his detectives waiting on the platform. He now had allies. Sir Marcus stepped onto the platform first with the superintendent just behind him. Colbeck and Leeming came across to greet them.

‘Is everything ready?’ asked Sir Marcus.

‘Yes,’ replied Colbeck. ‘The two of you will travel in the trap while the sergeant and I follow on horseback.’

Leeming was dubious. ‘Is that really such a good idea, sir? I still think we should have hired a second trap.’

‘Use your head, man,’ said Tallis, putting steel into his voice now that he had someone of inferior rank to bully. ‘How can you go in pursuit of these villains in a trap when they may be riding swift horses? Your proposal is inane.’

‘Not to me, it isn’t,’ said Leeming under his breath.

‘There’s been a change of plan, Inspector,’ Tallis went on, hoping to enlist Colbeck’s aid. ‘Sir Marcus has suggested that he should hand over the money.’

‘It’s not a suggestion,’ said Sir Marcus, ‘it’s a decision.’

‘Then it’s one that I applaud,’ said Colbeck.

Tallis was deeply hurt. ‘I expected you to support
me
.’

‘I fear that I’m not able to do that, sir.’

‘Why ever not? You were the one who insisted on handling the exchange on the first occasion and you were right to do so.’

‘This time is very different,’ explained Colbeck. ‘When I disguised myself as Sir Marcus, I was too far away from the kidnapper to be identified properly. As it happened, neither of the hostages was present. With luck, they will be there today. What will happen if Sir Marcus’s daughter sees me posing as her father? She and her maid are bound to be startled and give me away. They will both suffer as a result. Is that what you wish to achieve? No,’ he added, ‘only Sir Marcus will suffice today, Superintendent. I will remain hiding in the trees with you and the sergeant.’

Tallis felt injured. Sir Marcus applied plenty of salt to the wounds.

‘There you are,’ he said, breezily. ‘Listen to the inspector.
He thinks more clearly than you, acts more sensibly and puts the fate of my daughter first. You should learn from Colbeck. He could teach you a lot.’

 

Sergeant Cullen didn’t actually carry out his threat to sleep in the same room as them but he left the door open between the adjoining rooms so that he could hear everything they said. Imogen and her maid passed a sleepless night. They felt horribly exposed and maltreated. Breakfast was served early in their room and Cullen stood over them while they ate it. He then put the tray outside the room for a servant to collect it. When Captain Whiteside came into the room, he was in a buoyant mood.

‘Right,’ he said, pointing to Rhoda, ‘you’re coming with us.’

‘Where are we going?’ she asked.

‘We have a rendezvous with Sir Marcus Burnhope.’

Imogen stood up. ‘Why can’t I come?’

‘Because I don’t need you,’ he replied. ‘Rhoda will be enough to convince him that I’m in earnest.’

‘But I want to see my father.’

‘You’ve changed your tune, haven’t you?’ jeered Cullen.

‘The reason you ended up here is that you couldn’t wait to run away from him. One minute you hate your father; the next, you’re dying to go back to him.’

‘Imogen is going nowhere,’ said Whiteside. He glanced at Cullen. ‘You still haven’t recognised Manus, have you?’

‘It’s because they never really look at me, Terence. They’ve only had eyes for their gallant saviour, Captain Whiteside, who came to their rescue when they needed him.’ Leering
at the women, he lowered his voice to emit a loud growl. ‘Arrrrrrgh!’

Realisation dawning, Imogen and Rhoda drew back in alarm.

‘It’s him,’ gibbered Rhoda. ‘It’s that terrible man who leapt out at us in Christ Church Meadow. He wasn’t a vagabond at all. He was hiding there on purpose.’

‘Yes,’ confirmed Whiteside, ‘and he’d also grown a beard and blacked his face for the purpose. Manus is a good actor. He even frightened me.’

While the men shared a guffaw, Imogen was horrified at how easily she and Rhoda had been tricked by the ruse. Whiteside had first won her gratitude, then proceeded to win her love and trust. The truth was humiliating. It made her feel both reckless and embarrassingly immature.

‘It’s time to go,’ said Whiteside.

‘I demand that you take me,’ declared Imogen, leaping to her feet.

He sniggered. ‘You’re not exactly in a position to make demands, are you?’

‘I need to see my father.’

‘Rhoda can give him your regards.’

‘If you leave me here alone,’ she warned, ‘I’ll bang on that door and scream aloud until somebody lets me out.’

‘Unfortunately, you won’t be in a position to do so.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Manus,’ he ordered. ‘Fetch the rope.’

As the Irishman went off into the next room, Rhoda challenged the captain.

‘You can’t tie her up,’ she insisted. ‘It’s indecent.’

‘It’s practical. With a gag in her mouth, she won’t be able
to call for help.’ Taking Imogen by the shoulders, he forced her to sit down on an upright chair. Cullen returned with two lengths of rope. ‘Truss her up like a turkey, Manus. I want her to sit there quietly until we come back for her.’

‘Leave it to me, Terence,’ said Cullen, standing behind Imogen.

‘No,’ she said with more anger than fear. ‘It’s inhuman.’

‘And I won’t let you do it,’ vowed Rhoda, dashing forward to snatch the ropes from the sergeant’s hands. ‘I’ll stop you somehow.’

Whiteside reacted at speed. Grabbing the maid from behind, he spun her round then slapped both of her cheeks with such force that she fell backwards onto the bed. Cullen retrieved the ropes.

‘I did warn you that Captain Whiteside wasn’t a gentleman,’ he said, grinning.

 

They got there well in advance of the time stated and took up a position in the trees. As he surveyed the scene below, Colbeck noticed that there was now a significant difference to what they’d seen earlier. Running through the heart of the vale was a busy stream, glistening in the sunshine. The only visible place to cross was over a stone bridge. When they’d driven down to it on the previous day, he and Leeming had seen that it was just wide enough for a trap to go across. Larger vehicles would have to use a much bigger bridge over a mile away or ride even further afield to cross by means of a ford. Even a trap could not cross the stone bridge now. A massive rock had been rolled into place so that it restricted the width by almost two feet. There was no way that Sir Marcus would be able to
move the obstruction on his own, so he’d be quite unable to cross the stream. The kidnappers wanted no pursuit when they made their escape.

The telescope picked up something else of interest as well. On top of the rock and held in place by a small stone was a piece of white paper, flapping in the breeze. Colbeck believed that the paper contained the instructions for Sir Marcus. It meant that the kidnappers were already there, concealed in the copse on the other side of the vale. Their own telescope would undoubtedly be in use. Taking his watch out, he checked the time, then turned to Sir Marcus.

‘There’s the best part of twenty minutes to wait,’ he said.

‘I’m not sitting up here that long,’ answered Sir Marcus, impatiently. ‘I want my daughter back.’

‘You’ll find a letter waiting for you on the bridge.’

Sir Marcus climbed back into the trap and lifted up the leather bag containing the ransom. Loath to part with it, he accepted that he had no choice if he wished to see his daughter alive again. He put the bag between his feet, snatched up the reins and flicked them. The horse trotted forward and the trap soon came into full view of anyone overlooking the vale. Colbeck saw something glinting among the trees.

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