Ticket to Oblivion

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

In spite of the pleasure of reconciliation, Dolly Wrenson felt the persistent nibble of remorse. She realised now that her anger at George Vaughan had been both unjust and unkind. It was wrong to characterise his disappearance as a desertion of her and to assert her claims over the needs of his cousin. Now that she understood what had actually happened, she was almost hangdog. Imogen Burnhope and her maid were caught up in a crisis that could easily end in their death yet Dolly had put her own selfish desires before them. She could not stop apologising to the artist.

‘My behaviour was unforgivable, George.’

‘You didn’t know the full facts — nor more did I when I left here.’

‘I should have been more understanding.’

‘That would not have come amiss.’

‘I should have trusted you.’

‘That’s certainly true, my angel,’ he said, reaching out to embrace her. ‘You should have remembered the vows we’d made to each other. I would never dream of walking out on the creature of pure loveliness that is Dolly Wrenson.’

‘I was the one about to leave,’ she said, sheepishly. ‘I could kick myself for having such a ridiculous tantrum.’

‘I like your tantrums. They put colour in your cheeks.’

Dolly giggled. ‘You have a much nicer way of doing that, George!’

They were in the studio and an overcast sky meant that the light was too poor for him to work properly. He’d experimented with candles and an oil lamp but they cast only a fitful glow over his model. Yet they had, in fact, given him an idea of another portrait of Dolly, surrounded by flickering flames and dancing shadows, but it was a project for the future. The priority now was to finish the existing work and for that he needed good light.

‘I need to buy some more paints,’ he said, examining his stock. ‘Would you like to come with me or will you let me go alone?’

‘I’m not your keeper, George.’

‘You tried to be when I last left this house.’

‘It was very childish of me. I’ve grown up now.’

‘I won’t be long, Dolly. With luck, the light may have improved by the time I get back.’ He could not resist a grin. ‘Will you still be here?’

‘I won’t move an inch.’

‘Thank you, my dove. Losing you would be like losing a limb.’

‘Then you’ll know how I feel,’ she said, crossing to the easel and throwing back the cloth that covered it. ‘Give me my left arm, George Vaughan.’

‘I’ll do more than that,’ he promised. ‘You can have one arm of your own and two of mine to wrap around you all night. Will that satisfy you?’

‘You know it will — now away with you, kind sir.’

After putting on his coat and hat, he gave her a kiss before leaving the room. She could hear his footsteps clacking down the infinity of steps to the ground floor. When the sound faded, she went to the window and watched him come out of the front door and walk jauntily down the street. Dolly chided herself once again for ever doubting him. George Vaughan had been the most handsome, selfless, tender, loving, indulgent man she’d ever met. His resources were limited at the moment yet he never stinted her. Though she’d lived in more comfortable quarters with another artist, she never used that fact as a stick with which to hit her lover. Luxury was irrelevant. Simply being with him was enough to fill her with contentment.

Dolly was seized by the urge to do something by way of contrition to give him visible proof of the way that she felt. Her first instinct was to tidy the studio, so she made the bed, moved the few sticks of furniture and began to pick up the various things scattered on the floor. All of a sudden, she stopped and burst out laughing. This was not the way to please George Vaughan. He loved the friendly chaos of his studio. It was his natural habitat. Order was inimical to him. He’d fled from the controlled environment of life at an Oxford college and gone in search of a world without rules and without conventional boundaries. Having gathered up a pile of items to set on the table, she grabbed them again and scattered the whole lot over the floor. Dolly even rumpled the bed again.

It was then that she heard the footsteps on the stairs. She was surprised. It could not be her lover returning so soon. The shop that sold artists’ supplies was some distance away. Even someone as young and athletic as George Vaughan could not get there and back at such speed. Dolly moved to the door and listened. The footsteps were slow and weary. She could almost sense the effort that it was taking out of her visitor. The sounds finally stopped and there was a faint knock on the door.

She opened it and saw the stooping figure of a young woman. Her face was a mass of bruises, her lips swollen and one eye was closed. Dolly did not even see the expensive attire her visitor wore. She was mesmerised by the injuries.

‘Hello,’ said the woman with relief. ‘I found you at last.’

‘What do you want?’

‘You’re the one friend who won’t turn me away.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Dolly, drawing back. ‘Who exactly are you?’

‘Don’t you recognise my voice?’

‘No, I’m afraid that I don’t.’

‘It’s Lucinda,’ said the other. ‘Lucinda Graham.’

The thrill of the chase was a positive boon to Victor Leeming’s buttocks. They no longer ached and his thighs no longer burnt. Having established the direction in which their quarry had gone, they were able to track them and that bred excitement in the sergeant. Country people tended to be observant. Because so few strangers passed them in the course of a normal day, they usually noticed those who did. Four people had galloped past. A man and two women occupied a trap loaded with luggage. They were accompanied by a horseman who sat high in the saddle and led the way. Colbeck and Leeming were painstaking in their search. By stopping at every farm and village, they found someone each time who could tell them whether the fugitives had passed that way or not. The route eventually became clear.

‘They’re heading for the railway,’ said Colbeck.

‘Are they going back to Oxford station?’

‘No, Victor, it might be too much of a risk. They could be seen and recognised there.’ He smiled. ‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful if they did go to Oxford and stood on the platform at the same time as Sir Marcus and the superintendent? That would be a very interesting reunion.’

‘Where does this road take us?’ asked Leeming, cantering beside him.

‘According to the map, it will take us about three miles north-west to another stop on the OWWR. They headed for Handborough, I suspect.’

‘That would mean going back over the line on which the two women travelled in the first place.’

‘So?’

‘The kidnappers are surely not taking them to Burnhope Manor, are they?’

‘The train goes on well beyond Shrub Hill station — over thirty miles to be precise. They could get off anywhere along the line.’

‘In that case, we’ve lost them.’

‘Not necessarily,’ said Colbeck. ‘We will at least divine their escape strategy. That’s a vital first stage to apprehending them.’

‘Captain Whiteside is like a will-o’-the-wisp. No sooner do you see him than he vanishes again. This time, he’s vanished with all that money.’

‘He’s clever and resourceful, Victor. He’s kept his hostages in order to wrest even more by way of ransom. While the two ladies are highly valuable, however, they are also a threat to him. Imogen Burnhope, by all accounts, is exceptionally beautiful. She’s bound to be noticed.’

Colbeck was proved right. They got to Handborough station and learnt that Imogen had been one of four passengers who boarded a train there and who travelled with a lot of luggage. The stationmaster remembered them well.

‘It was odd,’ he recalled. ‘The tall man did all the talking and the two ladies never uttered a word. They clung together and didn’t even acknowledge my greeting. It was almost as if they’d had their tongues cut out.’

‘What about the trap and the horse?’ asked Leeming.

‘They’d been hired from stables near Oxford, sir. The tall man asked me to arrange their return and gave me a generous reward for doing so.’

‘Where were they going?’

‘They bought four tickets to Wolverhampton, sir.’

‘Then we’ll buy two to the same destination,’ said Colbeck, instantly, ‘and prevail upon you to return our hired horses as well.’ He pressed some coins into the man’s hands. ‘Meanwhile, we’d appreciate a description of these four travellers.’

‘Then I have to start with the younger lady,’ said the stationmaster with a respectful chuckle. ‘She was a real beauty, sir. I’ve seen none to match her, even though she seemed so very sad …’

Dolly sensed the needs of her friend at a glance. The first thing that Lucinda Graham sought was kindness and compassion. Taking her gently by the hand, Dolly led her across to the bed and lowered her down, sitting beside her with a gentle arm around her shoulder. They sat quietly for several reassuring minutes. It was only when Lucinda thanked her that Dolly went across to the jug of water, poured some into a bowl and then came back to her. She used a wet cloth to bathe her visitor’s face, wincing as she saw the full extent of the injuries and wondering who could possibly have inflicted them. Her friend eventually spoke.’

‘I tried two other friends before you, Dolly,’ she said. ‘One of them turned me away and the other showed no pity at all. In this state, of course, I couldn’t possibly go home to my parents. They washed their hands of me years ago and would hardly take me back now. As a last resort, I came looking for you.’

Dolly squeezed her hands. ‘And I’m glad you found me, Lucinda. You’re always welcome here.’ She looked around. ‘I know that you’re accustomed to much finer accommodation but this suits George and me.’

Lucinda’s head dropped. ‘I don’t have any accommodation now.’

‘Why not?’

‘He threw me out.’

‘Are you talking about your politician?’

‘Yes, Dolly, I am.’

‘I thought that he spent lavishly on you.’

‘He did.’

‘What made him turn on you like this?’

‘I spoke out of turn.’

‘I do that all the time, Lucinda,’ said Dolly, ‘but I don’t get attacked for it. George loves the way I blurt out things in company and cause embarrassment. He says that I’m incorrigible.’ She appraised her friend. ‘You’re in agony, aren’t you? I can see it in your eyes.’

‘I’m aching all over,’ admitted Lucinda, putting a hand to her stomach, ‘but the worst pain is here. He kicked me, Dolly. When he knocked me to the floor, he kicked me as if I was a disobedient dog.’

‘Have you reported him to the police?’

‘There’s no point.’

‘It’s a case of assault and battery.’

‘Let it pass.’

Dolly was enraged. ‘Let it pass?’ she repeated. ‘My dear friend is beaten black and blue and you want me to pretend that it never happened? I can’t do that, Lucinda. The evidence is right in front of me. This brute needs to be punished.’

‘It was my own fault.’

‘Of course it wasn’t — you’re the victim. Have him arrested.’

‘He’s too important.’

‘Nobody should be allowed to get away with savagery like this.’

‘I can see that you’ve had no dealings with the police,’ said Lucinda, dully. ‘They’d never show me the sympathy that you have. Some men beat their wives all the time and the police never interfere. They’re even less likely to take my part when they learn that I was attacked by the man who kept me. They’re far more likely to laugh and tell me I deserved it. Policemen don’t bother about people like me, Dolly.’

‘Well, I bother.’

‘Thank goodness that someone does.’

‘And if you need somewhere to stay for a while, we’ll help you.’

‘You’re so kind.’

Lucinda burst into tears and plucked a handkerchief from her sleeve. Dolly found a simple way to stop her crying. Leading her across to the easel, she tossed back the cloth to reveal the portrait. Her visitor goggled in wonder.

‘Is that really you?’

Dolly laughed. ‘It’s not only me — it’s all of me.’

‘You look lovely … like a queen.’

‘I don’t think Her Majesty would pose for a portrait like that. It would be undignified for a real queen. George wanted to show me off to the world. Don’t you think he’s clever? Yes, it is little Dolly Wrenson,’ she said, proudly, ‘but the artist’s skill has transformed me.’

Neither of them heard the feet approaching up the stairs. The first they knew of George Vaughan’s return was when he walked through the door. Like Dolly, he was shaken by the visitor’s appearance at first but he quickly rallied and pulled out a bottle of brandy from under the bed. After pouring a glass for Lucinda, he led her to the chair. Dolly, meanwhile, was giving him a breathless account of what had befallen her friend. He exuded sympathy.

‘Someone must be called to account for this, Lucinda,’ he said.

Dolly nodded in assent. ‘That’s what I told her.’

‘Who is this rogue?’

‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly tell you that,’ said Lucinda, anxiously.

‘He needs a good thrashing. What’s his name?’

‘I swore that I’d never divulge it to anyone, George.’

‘When did you do that?’

‘It was when I first moved into the house.’

‘And I daresay that you kept your promise, didn’t you?’

‘I did. Nobody else knows his name and nobody will.’

‘But the rules have changed now,’ Dolly pointed out. ‘It was all very well protecting him when you were being kept by him but that’s not the case now. He threw you out. He punched and kicked you, Lucinda. Do you really think it’s your bounden duty to hide the name of a thug like that? If it’d been me that he attacked, I’d be shouting his name from the rooftops.’

‘Dolly is right,’ said the artist. ‘This man may be a Member of Parliament but that doesn’t entitle him to do what he did to you. He’s no better than an animal. You owe him no loyalty, Lucinda. Tell us who he is.’

Clive Tunnadine arrived at Crewe station to be met by Alban Kee. The private detective had booked rooms at the hotel mentioned in the ransom note. Taking charge of the politician’s luggage, he summoned a cab and they drove off. Tunnadine wasted no time looking at the surroundings. Crewe was a railway town with a station built in the Elizabethan style. They went past rows of identical houses where those employed at the thriving railway works lived. An element of neatness and symmetry had been imposed on a small community that had grown in size until its population was well past eight thousand. The hotel was just outside the town. As soon as Tunnadine had been assigned a room, he sat down in it with Kee to discuss the situation.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘what have you decided?’

‘The kidnappers have chosen well,’ replied Kee. ‘This junction allows them to travel in almost any direction. They could ride off overland, of course, but the railway will be much quicker. Before they meet you to collect the ransom, they’ll already have bought tickets to their next destination.’

‘They’ll never get there.’

‘That’s my hope, Mr Tunnadine.’

‘It’s not a hope, man, it’s a necessity. We must rescue the hostages and kill the scheming devils who had the gall to abduct them.’

‘Shooting them must only be an option if all else fails, sir.’

‘I want them dead.’

‘I appreciate the sentiments,’ said Kee, ‘but you might get more satisfaction in handing them over to suffer the full force of the law. Besides, didn’t you tell me that Sir Marcus Burnhope was offering a large reward for their capture?’ He gave an oily grin. ‘You’d be in a position to claim that.’

The thought appealed to Tunnadine. He stroked his chin pensively.

‘No,’ he said at length. ‘I’d be in a position to claim it and to turn it down. That would redound to my credit. I have no need for the money and it would put me in my father-in-law’s good books. More to the point,’ he added, ‘it would impress the dear lady I am to marry.’

‘You will do that simply by coming to her rescue, sir.’

‘That’s true.’

‘If we have to draw our weapons,’ suggested Kee, ‘let’s shoot to disable them rather than to kill. A bullet in the knee will cripple them and cause agony.’

‘It’s good advice. We’ll aim for the legs. But when we’ve got them squirming on the ground,’ said Tunnadine, ‘I’ll kick them hard until they beg for mercy.’

‘You’d not do that in front of the ladies, surely?’

‘I’ll rely on you to divert them.’

‘We are, of course, assuming that the hostages will actually be there,’ said Kee, cautiously. ‘At the first exchange, there was no sign of them. They used a decoy.’

‘They won’t try the same trick twice.’

‘Perhaps not, sir, but they’re wily enough to invent a new one.’

‘Then we must be on our guard.’

Tunnadine was glad to concentrate all his thoughts on Imogen’s rescue. It saved him from thinking about the way that he’d treated Lucinda Graham. She’d committed the cardinal sin of joking about blackmail. He felt that he’d been right to attack her and to drive her out of his life forever. She belonged to his past now and his future would be built around his wife. Once the marriage had settled into a rhythm, he decided, he could search for someone to replace Lucinda Graham. A mistress served a purpose that a wife simply could not. The notion of flitting between the two appealed to him greatly. At the moment, however, he had neither mistress nor wife. It was a thought that kept his brain simmering.

Alban Kee spread out an ordnance survey map on the table.

‘The ransom will not be handed over in the town,’ he concluded. ‘They’ll want to draw you out into the open so that they can ensure you are on your own. I’ve been looking at possible choices.’

‘Good work!’

‘I’ve marked them on the map.’ He indicated some crosses. ‘They’ll pick a spot where they can be hidden while you are exposed to their scrutiny. It won’t be far away from the town because they’ll need to get back quickly in order to catch a train. The first thing I did when I got here yesterday,’ said Kee, ‘was to hire a horse and ride out on reconnaissance.’

‘They will doubtless have got the lie of the land themselves,’ said Tunnadine, looking at the areas marked by crosses. ‘Which would you choose?’

Kee jabbed a finger at the map. ‘This one, sir — it answers all their needs.’

‘What about our needs?’

‘I’ve not neglected those. They’ll expect you to come in a trap so that you can drive the hostages away. I’ve hired one that will allow me to lie concealed beneath a rug. Even with a telescope, they won’t be able to spot that there are two of us in it. You can hand over the ransom,’ said Kee, ‘in the knowledge that I won’t be far away. Once the ladies are safe, I can come out of hiding.’

‘I like the device,’ said Tunnadine.

‘All that I’ve done is to think ahead, sir.’

‘You’ve given us the advantage of surprise and that’s crucial.’

‘What will happen afterwards, sir?’ asked Kee.

‘I’ll be hailed as a hero and you’ll be richly rewarded.’

‘That’s not what I meant, Mr Tunnadine. The point is that you chose not to apprise Sir Marcus of the fact that you received the ransom note. How will he react when he realises that you acted on your own without consulting him?’

‘He’ll be too overjoyed to offer any criticism of what I did.’

‘Might he not at least be a little piqued?’

‘There’s only one thing that will annoy him.’

‘What’s that, sir?’

‘He picked the wrong detective,’ said Tunnadine, smugly. ‘While I chose Alban Kee, he made the mistake of putting his faith in Inspector Colbeck. And where, may I ask, is the celebrated Railway Detective now?’ His tone was contemptuous. ‘He’s chasing moonbeams in another part of the country.’

Wolverhampton was familiar to them. One of their most complex investigations had started there. A prisoner being transferred to Birmingham had escaped with the help of an accomplice and killed the two policemen guarding him. Like all people involved in law enforcement, Colbeck and Leeming had been deeply upset by the gruesome death of two fellow officers. It had made them redouble their efforts to catch those responsible. Their earlier visit to Wolverhampton had sent them off on a labyrinthine hunt that eventually proved successful. This time, however, they met with failure. They questioned almost everyone at the station. None of them could remember four passengers — two men and two women — purchasing tickets to another destination. One of the porters recalled seeing a beautiful young lady but he’d been too busy to take much notice of her. Evidently, the quartet had merged into the crowd to avoid arousing attention.

Leeming was dismayed. ‘They’ve got away,’ he said.

‘So it would appear.’

‘They may not even have taken another train.’

‘Oh, I think they did,’ said Colbeck, thoughtfully. ‘It’s the obvious thing to do. Travelling by horse and trap would be far slower. They’ll have luggage, remember. We’ll check the nearest stables but I fancy that they’ll not have hired from any of them. They simply caught a train.’

‘Then why did nobody see the four of them together?’

‘A party of four people might be distinctive, but who would look twice at two couples? They could have travelled in separate compartments. Neither of the two ladies would dare to raise the alarm because they’d know that their respective captors were armed.’

‘In which direction did they go, Inspector?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine.’

‘Well, my guess is that we’ve lost them for good,’ said Leeming.

‘No, Victor, they’ll be back again, I assure you. Don’t forget that they still have two priceless assets.’

‘What will they do with the two ladies?’

‘I’m certain that they’ll attempt to extort even more ransom money somehow and overplay their hand. That’s when we can step in.’

The sergeant was glum. ‘So we did all that dashing around for nothing.’

‘Put it down as healthy exercise.’

‘The superintendent will call it a bad mistake.’

‘He ought to applaud our enterprise,’ said Colbeck, ‘but I agree that he’s more likely to blame us for our incompetence. Let’s find out where the stables are and pay them a visit. At least we can be sure then that they haven’t fled by means of horse and trap.’

‘They could always have stayed here, sir.’

‘I think not, Victor. This is an industrial town with few hotels that offer outstanding facilities. Captain Whiteside has expensive tastes and he now has the money to pay for them. An isolated hotel is what he’ll want. There are not many of those near Wolverhampton. As you saw from all those smoking chimneys we passed on the way here, the Black Country is well named.’

‘It’s no worse than parts of London, sir,’ Leeming conceded. ‘There’s the same stink, deafening noise and grime.’

After taking advice from the stationmaster, they went off to visit the nearest places where horses could be hired. Now that the chase had ended, Leeming’s aches and pains returned. The prospects seemed bleak to him.

‘I’m not looking forward to seeing Superintendent Tallis again,’ he said.

‘But he’s going to welcome you with open arms,’ teased Colbeck.

‘We failed, sir.’

‘We had a setback, that’s all. The superintendent will appreciate that. He’s not such an ogre. He has enough experience to know that we’ll succeed in the end.’

While he wanted to admonish his detectives for their lack of success, Edward Tallis was forced into a position of defending them. He was seated behind his desk with an irate Sir Marcus Burnhope seated opposite him. Forgetting that he’d insisted on handing over the ransom in person, the visitor was acerbic in his denunciation of Colbeck and Leeming. Eyes protruding and voice rising, he slapped his thigh.

‘They let me down badly, Superintendent,’ he said.

‘I’d have to take issue with you there.’

‘Why didn’t they arrest that man when they had the chance?’

‘It’s rather difficult to put handcuffs on someone when you’re almost half a mile away,’ said Tallis, drily. ‘You took the initiative, Sir Marcus. Indeed, you made a point of doing so. As a result, you lost the money and left empty-handed.’

‘The fellow was wholly without honour!’

‘He’s a criminal. They operate by different standards. You should have expected that. As for Colbeck, please remember that it was he who retrieved the horse and trap for you. It was a feat well beyond me and the sergeant is no horseman. But for the inspector,’ Tallis emphasised, ‘you might have had a long and tiring walk back to the railway station.’

Sir Marcus reluctantly accepted that he had been at fault but he still nursed resentment against the detectives. To mollify his visitor, Tallis opened his box of cigars and offered it to Sir Marcus. The two of them were soon puffing away and filling the room with cigar smoke. There was a noticeable release of tension. Sir Marcus contemplated his fate.

‘It’s dreadful,’ he said, mournfully. ‘Losing my daughter was the first shattering blow. Surrendering all that money was the second. But the worst of it is that there may well be a third.’

‘I fail to see it, Sir Marcus.’

‘Publicity, man — think of the newspapers.’

‘To be honest, I try not to do so. They’ve never treated me kindly.’

‘Imagine what they’d do to me if this story ever got out. Sir Marcus Burnhope, Secretary of State for India, has been robbed of his daughter and deprived of a veritable fortune. How my enemies would love that!’ he cried. ‘I’d never hear the end of their taunts and howls of derision. You must protect me from that, Tallis.’

‘The best way to do that is to rescue the hostages, capture the men who abducted them and restore your money to the bank. Nobody else need ever know what happened at the two earlier meetings with the kidnapper.’

‘The press will be sniffing around, Superintendent. They know that Imogen is missing because I’ve offered a reward. What if they learn the full truth?’

‘It will not come from my lips, Sir Marcus, nor from those of my men.’

‘Do I have your word on that?’

‘In a case like this,’ said Tallis, seriously, ‘discretion is vital and that is what I can guarantee. I’ll tell the press nothing. They have an unfortunate habit of getting hold of the wrong end of the stick — as I know to my cost.’

The two of them continued to draw on their cigars and create a fug. When there was a knock on the door, Tallis invited the caller to enter. He was a fresh-faced young detective who’d recently joined the department. Plainly in awe of the superintendent, he delivered his message in something close to a whisper.

‘Speak up!’ ordered Tallis. ‘I can’t hear a word.’

‘There’s someone asking to see you, Superintendent.’

‘They’ll have to wait. I’m in the middle of an important meeting.’

‘The gentleman was most insistent.’

‘Then he’ll need to be taught the value of patience.’

‘He said that, if I gave you his name, you’d admit him immediately.’

‘I very much doubt that. Who is the fellow?’

‘His name is George Vaughan.’

‘Heavens!’ exclaimed Sir Marcus. ‘It’s one of my nephews. What on earth is George doing here?’

‘We’ll find out. Send him in,’ said Tallis, dismissing the young detective. The man went out. ‘George Vaughan is an artist. Why should he be so desperate to see me?’

Sir Marcus was droll. ‘Perhaps he has come to confess to some terrible crime,’ he said. ‘Even his mother has begun to despair of him.’ He got to his feet as George Vaughan came into the room. They shook hands. ‘How are you, young man?’

‘I didn’t expect to find you here, Uncle Marcus,’ said the other, ‘but I’m very glad that I did so. You should hear what I have to say.’

‘I understood that you wished to speak to me,’ said Tallis, stiffly.

‘That’s right, Superintendent. I have to report a heinous crime.’

‘Of what nature is it?’

‘A young woman has been brutally assaulted by a man.’

‘Report that to the nearest police station, Mr Vaughan. It’s not the sort of crime that we deal with, as a rule. I take it that the two people involved were well known to each other?’

‘Yes, they were.’

‘Then it’s a domestic matter in which we don’t usually get involved.’

‘I’ve seen her,’ said the artist, earnestly. ‘He beat her to a pulp and threw her out of the house. Doesn’t that arouse at least a scintilla of compassion in you?’

‘Go back to your earlier remark,’ said Sir Marcus, interested. ‘Why were you glad to find me in here with the superintendent?’

‘You know the man, Uncle. He’s a friend of yours.’

Puffing on his cigar, Sir Marcus fell back on pomposity. ‘My friends do not assault defenceless young women.’

‘This one does,’ insisted George Vaughan. ‘If he can batter his mistress like that, imagine what he might do to his wife.’

‘What are you babbling about?’

‘Who is this person to whom you refer?’ asked Tallis.

‘His name is Clive Tunnadine,’ said the artist, spitting out the name, ‘and he is destined to marry my cousin, Imogen.’

‘That’s a preposterous allegation,’ roared Sir Marcus, ‘and you ought to know better than to make it. Really, George, I’m ashamed of you. Withdraw that charge at once, then leave us to deal with more important matters.’

‘What I have to tell you has a direct bearing on these so-called more important matters, Uncle Marcus. Imogen has been kidnapped and we all wish her to be released very soon. But what is the point of liberating her,’ he went on, gesticulating, ‘if you’re going to chain her in marriage to a monster who resorts to violence?’

‘Leave the room at once. I’ll hear no more of this.’

‘No, wait,’ said Tallis, intervening. ‘Since your nephew is moved to come here, we must listen to his complaint in full. Like you, Sir Marcus, I do not believe that Mr Tunnadine is capable of the assault described to us, but then, I doubt if your nephew would take the trouble of coming here unless he has incontrovertible evidence to the contrary. Do you have such evidence, Mr Vaughan?’

‘I do,’ replied the artist, trying to compose himself. ‘I apologise for bursting in like this but I implore you to hear me out. It’s high time that both of you became aware of the true character of Clive Tunnadine.’

The letter was slipped under the door of the hotel room. By the time that Alban Kee had flung the door open, the messenger had gone. He picked up the missive and handed it to Tunnadine then he shut the door and locked it. Kee watched as the other man opened the letter and read it.

‘It’s from the kidnappers,’ said Tunnadine. ‘They’ve specified the time and place.’