‘Challenge him to a duel.’
‘This can be settled by lawful means.’
When Paul went out into the hall, Charlotte walked after him so that she could have a private word with her brother-in-law. She looked over her shoulder to make sure that Hannah was not listening.
‘Be sure to tell Mr Fleet that I’m here.’
‘Why should I do that?’ asked Paul.
‘It’s exactly what he requested. Having failed to make any headway with the two warring parties, he came to the gallery and, as a last resort, sought my help. Mr Fleet thought that another woman might have more influence over Hannah.’
‘That was a wise move.’
‘We shall see.’
‘You can talk to Hannah in a way that none of us can.’
‘I can only do my best. As for the broken window, I’d absolve Mr Mundy of the charge. He may be angry with her but he’s not given to hasty action or he’d have taken it before. Were he caught committing such a crime, he’d be liable for arrest.’
‘He’d get a beating from me beforehand,’ said Paul. ‘Like you, however, I don’t think he’d be stupid enough to do anything so rash.’ He kissed her on the cheek. ‘Stay with Hannah and try to soothe her. Mr Fleet made the right choice when he came to you. The Piccadilly Opera may yet survive.’
Laetitia Somerville was inhospitable when she heard that the Runners had decided to call on her again. She asked for them to be turned away but they were too stubborn. Yeomans warned that they would stay outside the front door all night, if need be, because they had important information to pass on to her. At length, she capitulated and had the two of them let in.
‘I was hoping that you’d show me more consideration,’ she told them. ‘You must have met many people who’ve suffered bereavement. It’s a time when tact and forbearance are required. The last thing you should do is to call unbidden at people’s houses.’
‘You have our apologies,’ said Yeomans.
‘I said that we shouldn’t bother you,’ Hale put in.
‘At least one of you has some sensitivity,’ observed Laetitia. ‘Now, what’s this news you insist on passing on to me?’
‘The inquest into Mr Bowerman’s death is tomorrow.’
‘Is that your pretext for coming here?’
‘We thought it would interest you, Miss Somerville.’
‘It does, sir, but it comes too late to be a surprise. Mr Skillen told me of it some hours ago. If that’s all you have to say, I bid you farewell.’
‘Paul Skillen was here again?’ asked Hale in agony.
‘He, too, has a good reason to catch the killer.’
‘He may have a reason but he has no legal right. We do, Miss Somerville.’
‘And how much evidence have you gathered?’
‘Ah, well …’
‘It’s slow work,’ said Yeomans, uneasily, ‘but we have made some advances. We’re expecting help from Captain Hamer and Mr Carr.’
‘I’d rather you didn’t mention his hateful name,’ she said, turning her head away. ‘If the captain hadn’t chosen to make an unheralded reappearance, then Mr Bowerman and I would be making preparations for our wedding. Instead of that,’ she said, wistfully, ‘he will be visiting a church for his funeral.’
‘We share your dismay.’
‘Do you want the details of the inquest?’ asked Hale.
‘No, I do not,’ she said, brusquely.
‘But you could give your testimony.’
‘There’s nothing I can say that will have any bearing on the murder of someone who was precious to me. I’d rather remember Mr Bowerman as the person who gave my life a sense of purpose. An inquest would only distress me.’
‘They always bore me,’ admitted Hale.
‘It’s your choice, Miss Somerville,’ said Yeomans. ‘Have you had any further thoughts about who might be responsible for the murder?’
‘No, I have not.’
‘Is there anyone who would have resented the idea of you getting married?’
‘I’m not going to discuss my private life with you,’ she said, haughtily.
‘But, without realising it, you may be able to give us some guidance.’
‘The thing is this, Miss Somerville,’ said Hale. ‘You already know that a woman is involved because she sent Mr Bowerman a summons in your name. What you don’t know, perhaps, is that the information we had about the duel was also in a woman’s hand.’
‘Can you suggest who she might be?’ asked Yeomans.
‘No,’ she said, face impassive.
But her brain was whirring away.
Lemuel Fleet was surprised when Paul arrived at his house and disturbed when he heard about the injuries sustained by his leading lady.
‘How badly was she hurt?’ he asked. ‘Will she have to withdraw?’
‘By the grace of God, the wounds were superficial, but they could easily have caused permanent damage to Miss Granville’s face.’
‘It’s an omen. This play is doomed.’
‘Forgive me, Mr Fleet,’ said Paul, forcefully, ‘but my only concern is for Miss Granville’s safety. That’s more important than any play.’
‘Bills have been printed, tickets have been sold.’
‘That’s not the point at issue.’
‘It is in my opinion.’
‘Then you have clearly not reached the same conclusion as Miss Granville. Had you done so, you’d realise that there was no prospect whatsoever of a single performance of the play taking place.’
Fleet gulped. ‘The lady surely doesn’t think that …?’
‘Oh, yes, she does.’
‘But that’s inconceivable, Mr Skillen.’
‘There’s been bad blood between her and Mr Mundy from the start.’
‘Regrettably, that’s true, but he’d never do anything like this.’
‘He’s already done it,’ said Paul. ‘According to Miss Granville, he’s been throwing metaphorical stones at her since they first met. Today, she believes, he resorted to a real one.’
‘That’s fanciful. Mundy would be cutting his own throat. Without her, there’d be no play. I could never conjure an actress of her stature out of the air. Mundy knows that. He has to find a way to work with Miss Granville and vice versa.’
‘That fantasy seems a long way off at the moment.’
Paul admitted that he, too, had doubts that the playwright was in any way culpable. He told Fleet that it was his sister-in-law’s idea that he should first make contact with the manager in order to get Mundy’s address.
‘I’m indebted to the lady,’ said Fleet, ‘and I’d be grateful if you’d tell her that. Had you gone straight to confront Mr Mundy at his lodging, this whole business could have got dangerously out of hand. By coming here, you’ve at least had the time to review the situation with a degree of calm.’
‘I may appear calm,’ warned Paul, ‘but I’m seething with anger. Miss Granville is very dear to me. If someone threatens her in any way, they’ll have to answer to me. Mr Mundy may be innocent of the charge – that’s yet to be proven, in my view – but somebody hurled that stone and I will hunt him down.’
‘I’ll gladly join you in that hunt, sir.’
‘He’s all mine, Mr Fleet.’
‘I, too, have a score to settle with the villain. That stone may have been thrown at Miss Granville but it’s an indirect attack on me. Without her, the play perishes.’
Paul chided him for taking such a selfish attitude, arguing that his major concern should be for Hannah rather than for the financial difficulties he might suffer as a result of cancellation. Fleet was duly humbled. He had the sense to realise that Paul was a possible ally. Being so close to the actress, he could apply even more pressure on her than his sister-in-law. What he could not do, however, was to speak to her as another woman. That was why Charlotte’s help was vital as well. In order to get a compromise, the manager needed both her and Paul.
‘Let’s first call on Mr
Mundy together,’ he said. ‘There’s no deceit in him. He’s a man who wears his heart on his sleeve. When we tell him of this incident, we’ll know immediately if he was behind it by his reaction.’
‘It may even induce some sympathy in him for Miss Granville.’
Fleet was pessimistic. ‘That’s too much to ask.’
Back at the gallery, Peter was explaining to Jem Huckvale what they had to do. He’d even drawn a rough plan of the building and marked the window through which he believed the younger man could easily crawl. In the time he’d worked and lived at the gallery, Huckvale had done a wide variety of things but the overwhelming majority of them had been perfectly lawful activities. Having to commit a crime worried him.
‘What if I’m caught?’ he asked.
‘There’s no chance of that, Jem.’
‘Being hauled off to Bow Street is not very nice. Last time, they had no reason to take me there. This time, they would.’
‘Yeomans and Hale will be nowhere near the place we’re going to,’ said Peter, confidently, ‘because it would never occur to them to ask why the murder took place where it did. While you’re getting hold of a piece of crucial information, they will be chasing their own tails somewhere else.’
‘I’m still not happy about it.’
‘You’ve nothing to fear.’
With a consoling arm around his shoulders, Peter reminded him how many much more hazardous things he’d done in the past. Compared to those adventures, the burglary would be swift, silent and without danger. Though Huckvale was not entirely convinced, he would never turn down the opportunity to work alongside Peter and his brother. Theirs was a world of excitement and that was irresistible.
It was evening now and the gallery was closed. Peter promised that he’d return at midnight to collect Jem for their nocturnal outing. Waving goodbye, he let himself out of the building. A figure hurried up to him. Though light was fading, Peter was able to recognise Silas Roe at once. The butler was animated.
‘I’m so glad to find you,’ he said, grabbing Peter’s arm. ‘I was hoping against hope that you’d still be here.’
‘Why is that, Mr Roe?’
‘I’ve brought some news for you, sir. When you came to the house, the information was not then in my possession. It is now.’
‘Before you go any further,’ said Peter, raising a hand, ‘I should tell you that I’m not Paul Skillen. I’m his brother, Peter. We did meet when you first came here.’
‘I remember. I thought I was seeing double.’
‘Paul is not here at the moment and I have no idea where he is.’
‘Oh, that’s disappointing.’
‘Are you so anxious to make contact with him?’ Roe nodded. ‘Then perhaps you can tell me what this latest news is. If it has a bearing on our investigation, then I’m eager to hear it. I can pass it on to Paul when I see him.’ Roe looked uncertain. ‘Clearly, it’s something of great importance. We don’t want to be discussing it out here in the street. Why don’t we step back inside the gallery? We can talk in relative comfort there.’
Fleet was glad that he’d be present when Paul and the playwright met so that he could act as a buffer between them. Determined to avenge the woman he loved, Paul was likely to take a more combative approach towards Abel Mundy. An argument might easily flare up. Even if Mundy had no connection with the smashing of the window, blows might be exchanged. Each one would be felt by the manager. When they reached the house, Fleet was on tenterhooks, appealing to Paul to hold his peace.
‘Let me do the talking, Mr Skillen.’
‘If he threw that stone, I’ll say what I have to say with my fists.’
‘No, no – anything but that, please!’
‘Ring the bell,’ ordered Paul. ‘I want to meet the man who’s caused Miss Granville so much pain and anguish.’
Fleet did as he was told. A servant answered the door and they were admitted to the hall. Marion Mundy received them in the drawing room. Having met the manager before, she gave him a guarded welcome. He introduced Paul as a friend of Hannah Granville. The woman’s face darkened instantly.
‘We need to speak to your husband, Mrs Mundy,’ said Fleet.
‘It’s on a matter of the utmost urgency,’ added Paul.
‘I’m sorry, but he’s not here,’ she said.
‘Where is he?’
‘My husband is where he always goes at this time of the day, Mr Skillen. He’s in church. In fact, he’s been there for well over an hour.’
If Mundy had been in church that long, Paul reasoned, he couldn’t possibly have thrown a stone through his front window. On the other hand, the wife was only telling them what she believed. The playwright might have cut short his devotions for once and slipped across to Paul’s house to lurk outside it.
‘We’ll wait until he gets back,’ said Paul.
The Peacock Inn was as busy as usual that evening but they had no difficulty finding a table. Yeomans had such physical bulk and such a daunting reputation that other patrons would always make way for him. Quaffing their pints, he and Hale sat in a corner and discussed what the day had brought them.
‘I can see why Bowerman was attracted to her,’ said Yeomans before releasing a sly belch. ‘Miss Somerville would warm any man’s bed.’
‘She’s well beyond our reach, Micah.’
‘Thought is free.’
‘Something about her worries me,’ said Hale. ‘Why is a woman like that not married already? And when she does finally choose a husband, why pick on someone like Mr Bowerman?’
‘He’s rich and respectable.’
‘I think she’d set her sights a little higher than that.’
Yeomans beamed. ‘On someone like me, you mean?’
‘No – on a rich, respectable man with a title.’
They were still enjoying their beer when Chevy Ruddock walked into the pub.
He was a lanky young man with a willing heart and a face that seemed to sprout a new wart or pimple every month. Proud to work with the two leading Runners, he was ruthlessly exploited by them. He hurried across to their table.
‘You sent for me, Mr Yeomans.’
‘We have an assignment for you,’ said the other.
‘I’m ready, sir.’
‘We had thought to give you the task of watching the Skillen brothers.’
‘Oh no,’ pleaded Ruddock, ‘I’ve tried doing that before. Keeping an eye on Paul Skillen was like trying to hold an eel with a pair of soapy hands. It’s not a job for one man but for twenty.’
‘We can’t spare that many from our foot patrol,’ said Hale.
‘So you’ll be shadowing someone else,’ explained Yeomans. ‘You’re to stick to him like a limpet even if it means staying up all night.’
‘My wife won’t like that, sir. She misses me.’
‘We all have to make sacrifices.’
‘Who do you want me to follow?’
‘It’s that man we arrested at the duel – Captain Hamer.’
‘Then you must think he’s still the main suspect.’
‘No, you nincompoop – he’s not the killer. I’m hoping that he’ll lead us to the man so that we can apprehend him. Captain Hamer is set on revenge. It’s not because of any love he had for the victim. If we hadn’t stopped him, he’d have shot Bowerman dead on Putney Heath. Someone else killed him instead and that rankles with the captain. His pride was hurt badly.’
‘I see,’ said Ruddock. ‘I’m to stay on his tail because you and Mr Hale have no means of tracking down the killer yourselves.’
‘No!’ yelled Yeomans. ‘That’s not the case at all.’
‘We’ve picked up his scent already,’ lied Hale, ‘but the captain has advantages that we lack. The killer, we believe, is someone who is – or used to be – in his circle. Though he’s refusing to admit it, he already has ideas of who it might be. Follow him and he’ll lead us to the prize. We then jump in ahead of him and make the arrest.’
‘I lik
e the plan,’ said Ruddock.
‘While you’re at it, look out for that friend of his, Mr Carr. They’re often together. Between them, they’ll soon identify the man we want.’
‘There’s just one thing, sir …’
‘Yes?’
‘What if Peter and Paul Skillen catch the man before us?’
‘What if I hit your head with this tankard?’ asked Yeomans, raising it high. ‘Do as you’re told, man, and stop trying to think on your own. It will addle your brain and make your prick turn blue.’ He took a notebook from his pocket. ‘I’ll write down Captain Hamer’s address for you,’ he said. ‘And while I’m doing that, you can order a pint apiece for the two us. Go on – do something useful for once.’
When he returned home and found his wife absent from the house, Peter knew exactly where to find her. He rode straight to Paul’s house. Surprised to see no light in the front room, he was even more taken aback by the sight of the planks of wood in the window frame. Even in the poor light, he could see pieces of glass all over the ground. Let in by a servant, he found Charlotte in the dining room with Hannah. While the latter had largely recovered from the incident in the drawing room, she still bore the marks of it on her cheek. Grateful to see her husband, Charlotte gave him a brief account of what had happened. It was then embellished by Hannah who still held to the notion that the person who’d hurled the stone at her was Abel Mundy.
‘Where’s Paul?’ asked Peter.
‘He’s gone to pound Mr Mundy into oblivion.’
‘Yet he has no proof that the playwright is the culprit.’
‘I don’t need proof,’ said Hannah. ‘I feel it in my bones.’
‘How long ago did Paul leave?’
‘It was well over an hour or more,’ replied Charlotte. ‘Even though he went to see Mr Fleet first, I’d have expected him back by now.’
‘I hope he’s learnt who was behind this dreadful attack on Hannah.’
‘It has to be Mundy,’ asserted the actress. ‘Who else has a reason to hate me?’
‘Nobody – you are universally loved.’
A Date with the Executioner Page 15
