The Iron Horse irc-4

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The Iron Horse irc-4 Page 10

by Edward Marston


  ‘One name leaps out of the pack immediately,’ said Fido.

  ‘And who is that, sir?’

  ‘Lord Hendry.’

  ‘I had hoped to speak to Inspector Colbeck,’ said Lord Hendry as he was shown into the superintendent’s office. ‘I know that he’s in charge of this case.’

  ‘Colbeck is answerable to me,’ said Tallis, staying on his feet as he waved his guest to a chair. ‘I control the investigation from here.’

  ‘Then I bring my complaint to you.’

  ‘Your complaint, Lord Hendry?’

  ‘Yes, Superintendent – if the blame lies with you.’

  ‘What exactly is the nature of your grievance?’

  ‘I deplore your methods,’ said Lord Hendry, tapping the floor hard with his silver-topped cane. ‘It was quite unnecessary for two detectives to come all the way to my house for the sole purpose of asking about a hatbox that was stolen from my wife.’

  ‘How else could the information have been obtained?’

  ‘By letter, Mr Tallis – I’m a prompt correspondent.’

  ‘Inspector Colbeck was anxious to meet you in person.’

  ‘Then he could have done so at my club,’ said Lord Hendry testily. ‘I’m there on a regular basis. It’s unsettling when two of your men bang on my front door. What are my servants to think? That their master is under suspicion for some dastardly crime? This whole business could have been handled more discreetly.’

  ‘We wanted an immediate answer, Lord Hendry.’

  ‘Damn it, man – you offended me, don’t you see that?’

  Tallis met his gaze without flinching. In view of what his detectives had found out, he was glad that they had visited Lord Hendry at his home. He certainly felt no need to apologise. There was a lengthy and uncomfortable pause. Lord Hendry finally broke the silence when he took a handkerchief from his sleeve and held it to his mouth as he sneezed.

  ‘God bless you!’ said Tallis.

  ‘I’m still waiting for your comment.’

  ‘I’ve none to make, Lord Hendry.’

  ‘Won’t you admit you were wrong to send your men to my house?’ demanded the other, slipping the handkerchief back into his sleeve. ‘Or do I have to take my complaint to the commissioner?’

  ‘I’d advise against that.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because the commissioner has been made fully aware of the details of this case,’ said Tallis, tired of being glared at. ‘Like me, he knows that you lied to my detectives when they called on you. And, like me, he knows that the lady for whom you bought a hat and hatbox in Jermyn Street was not, in fact, Lady Hendry.’

  ‘How dare you, sir!’ yelled Lord Hendry, getting to his feet and frothing with rage. ‘That’s a monstrous allegation and I insist on a retraction.’

  ‘Insist all you will,’ said Tallis. ‘But before you issue any more denials, I should tell you that Sergeant Leeming visited the Angel Hotel in Cambridge recently. He not only discovered that you and a certain young lady had stayed there on more than one occasion, he learnt that the hatbox was not stolen from the hotel. Why did you tell my officers that it had been, Lord Hendry?’

  ‘This is insufferable!’ howled the other. ‘Is a peer of the realm to be allowed no private life? Since when has it been the function of detectives to pry into the personal affairs of a man who has committed no crime whatsoever?’

  ‘Your private life has a bearing on a brutal murder.’

  ‘I’ll not be watched, Superintendent,’ warned Lord Hendry. ‘I’ll not be treated like the basest scoundrel in London.’

  ‘You’ve been treated with the respect you deserve,’ said Tallis levelly. ‘Inspector Colbeck believed that you bore false testimony and he set out to prove it. Had you told him the truth in the first place, the visit to Cambridge would not have been necessary.’

  ‘Heavens above – I’m married!’

  ‘At moments like this, I’m pleased I remained a bachelor.’

  Lord Hendry frowned. ‘Are you mocking me, Mr Tallis?’

  ‘I am simply observing how much easier life is for a single man.’

  ‘I have no interest in your observations, sir.’

  ‘Then I’ll keep them to myself.’ Sitting behind his desk, Tallis clasped his hands together. ‘Now that you’ve made your complaint, Lord Hendry,’ he said, ‘I’ll avail myself of the opportunity to make mine.’

  ‘I haven’t finished yet.’

  ‘You have another grievance?’

  ‘I need to report a crime,’ said Lord Hendry petulantly. ‘That’s why I hoped to see Inspector Colbeck. Yesterday, near the stables where my colt is trained, an attempt was made to kill Odysseus.’

  ‘An unsuccessful attempt, I hope.’

  ‘Fortunately, it was. Odysseus was due to be moved to Epsom in his travelling box but my trainer had a strong suspicion that someone was keeping a close watch on the stables. Fearing danger, he took steps to avoid it.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Instead of putting Odysseus in the travelling box, he used a substitute – one of the bullocks from the adjoining paddock. As it was going up a hill, the travelling box was uncoupled from the cart pulling it and it careered down the slope before turning over.’

  ‘Was the bullock injured?’

  ‘One of its legs was broken,’ said Lord Hendry. ‘Do you see what I am up against, Superintendent? Someone is out to destroy my chances of winning the Derby. Had my horse been in that box, he would have broken his leg instead and we’d have had to put him down. I want you to find the man behind this outrage.’

  ‘We’ll do all we can to apprehend him as soon as we can,’ Tallis promised him. ‘Can you suggest the name of anyone capable of such a heinous crime?’

  ‘Two names command especial attention.’

  ‘And who might they be, Lord Hendry?’

  ‘Hamilton Fido and Brian Dowd.’

  ‘Your great rivals, as I understand it.’

  ‘I mean to win by fair means – they’ll resort to foul ones.’

  ‘I’ll need to take a fuller statement,’ said Tallis, reaching for his pen and moving a piece of paper into position. ‘I want the time and place of this incident and the names of any witnesses whom we can contact.’

  ‘First things first, Superintendent – when we do move Odysseus to Epsom, I’ll need police protection for the horse. There may be a second attack.’

  ‘We’ll look into that, Lord Hendry.’

  ‘Make sure you question Fido and Dowd.’

  ‘Inspector Colbeck has already spoken to both gentlemen.’

  ‘Really?’ Lord Hendry was amazed. ‘Why did he do that?’

  ‘Because he is accustomed to leaving no stone unturned,’ said Tallis. ‘There are certain things of which you have clearly not been apprised, my lord, and they may alter your view of events. The severed head has been identified as belonging to John Feeny, a groom at the stables owned, coincidentally, by Hamilton Fido. The hatbox was on its way to Brian Dowd in Ireland before it was intercepted in Crewe. Feeny, it transpires, once worked for Mr Dowd.’

  ‘How do you know all this?’ asked Lord Hendry.

  ‘As I told you, Inspector Colbeck is famed for his thoroughness.’

  ‘So both Fido and Dowd are tied in some way to the murder?’

  ‘Let’s move one step at a time,’ said Tallis, pen poised. ‘What brought this crime to light was a hatbox that sprung open on a railway platform. That leads me to a question I’m compelled to ask, Lord Hendry, and I’m sure that you understand why.’ He cleared his throat. ‘What was the name of the young lady from whom it was stolen?’

  ‘She has no name,’ retorted Lord Hendry, eyes blazing with defiance. ‘The young lady ceased to exist several weeks ago. That being the case, Superintendent, I regret that I’m unable to help you identify that person.’ He thrust out his jaw. ‘Do I make myself clear?’

  The long cab ride back to Scotland Yard gave Robert Colbeck and Victor Leeming
plenty of time to discuss their visit to the Green Dragon. The sergeant was impressed.

  ‘Mr Fido must have made a fortune,’ he said enviously. ‘He owns a stable of racehorses, a tavern in Bethnal Green and a big house somewhere else. Yet he comes from a poor family.’

  ‘Perhaps that’s what spurred him on, Victor. But he’s not the only person from the working class who went on to succeed. I’m sitting beside another example right now.’

  ‘Me?’ Leeming gave a dry laugh. ‘I don’t think I’m a success.’

  ‘You are, in my eyes,’ said Colbeck, letting his affection show. ‘Most people with your background never escape it. They’re doomed to live the same kind of hard, joyless, unrelenting lives as their parents. By sheer determination, you managed to better yourself and – unlike Hamilton Fido – you did so by entirely legal means.’

  ‘That’s no consolation, sir.’

  ‘It is to me, Victor.’

  ‘I’d love to have some of his money.’

  ‘Then back the winner in the Derby.’

  ‘You know what I mean, Inspector,’ said Leeming. ‘When I see someone like Mr Fido, dripping with wealth, I feel so jealous. I’ll never earn that amount of money in the Metropolitan Police Force.’

  ‘Look at it another way,’ suggested Colbeck. ‘You’ll never spend part of your life behind bars.’

  ‘Is that what will happen to Mr Fido?’

  ‘Sooner or later.’

  ‘He seemed so sure of himself.’

  ‘Yes, he was very plausible. That’s often a danger sign. He had all the answers. Hamilton Fido is clearly an accomplished liar.’

  ‘What was all that about an anonymous letter?’

  ‘His first and biggest lie,’ said Colbeck. ‘He must have a source at Scotland Yard and that’s worrying. Only a handful of people knew the name of the murder victim and the fact that he once worked for Brian Dowd. It behoves us to move with extreme care, Victor.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘We have a spy in our ranks – someone who can help Mr Fido to stay one step ahead of us.’

  ‘How, sir?’

  ‘By reporting on our movements, for a start,’ replied Colbeck. ‘Didn’t you notice how unsurprised Mr Fido was when we turned up at his door? He knew that we were coming.’

  Leeming was unsettled. ‘A spy in our ranks – surely not, sir.’

  ‘Mr Fido will employ a whole network of informers, Victor. How can he set the odds for a race if he doesn’t have precise details about the runners taking part?’

  ‘What about the Derby?’

  ‘He’ll know exactly how the fancied horses fare during their training gallops. A man like Hamilton Fido has eyes everywhere.’

  ‘Do you think he’s involved in the murder of John Feeny?’

  ‘He didn’t persuade me that he’s not involved,’ said Colbeck, ‘so it’s an open question. If he is party to the crime, of course, then he may not have a source in the Detective Department, after all. He would know Feeny’s name because he ordered his execution.’

  Leeming fell silent. A chevron of deep concentration appeared on his brow as he turned something over in his mind. Colbeck waited patiently until his companion was ready to speak.

  ‘I was just thinking,’ said the sergeant at length. ‘What would have happened if the severed head had not been discovered in Crewe?’

  ‘It would have been delivered to Brian Dowd.’

  ‘Yes – but what would have happened then, sir? Would he have reported it or chosen to keep the whole thing secret?’

  ‘That depends on whether or not he deliberately put John Feeny in a rival stables to act as an informant. If he did,’ said Colbeck, ‘he might not wish to involve the police at all. Having met Mr Dowd, I’m inclined to believe his explanation – namely, that Feeny left Ireland of his own accord before finding work in England. But,’ he went on, ‘it’s always wise to have a second opinion. That’s why I’m sending you to meet Brian Dowd at a secret location.’

  Leeming steeled himself. ‘Will I have to travel by train, sir?’

  ‘I’m afraid so – but only for a short distance. One thing that even Hamilton Fido doesn’t know is the location of Limerick Lad. Mr Dowd confided in me and I’ve disclosed the address to nobody.’

  ‘Not even to Superintendent Tallis?’

  ‘No, Victor,’ said Colbeck, ‘and, in hindsight, I’m glad. If we do have a spy in our midst, this is one piece of information that won’t fall accidentally into his hands. When we get to Whitehall, you can drop me off and go on to Paddington.’

  ‘What will you be doing?’

  ‘Reporting to the superintendent, in the first instance.’

  ‘Better you than me, sir,’ said Leeming gratefully.

  ‘I thought that he’d mellowed of late.’

  ‘Then I’ll have to show you the bite marks he left on me.’

  Colbeck laughed. ‘You’ll find Brian Dowd far less intimidating,’ he said. ‘Sound him out, Victor. See what you make of him.’

  ‘Do you think he’ll give me advice about the Derby?’

  ‘You may even be lucky enough to see Limerick Lad now he’s in England. That’s the advice he’ll give you – bet on the Irish horse.’

  ‘Who are you going to put money on, sir?’

  ‘I’m still considering the options,’ said Colbeck. ‘One of them has to be Merry Legs. When I’ve spoken to the Superintendent, I’ll travel to Hamilton Fido’s stables to take a closer look at the filly. I felt from the start that a female would play a crucial role in our investigation.’

  Kitty Lavender sat at a table in the corner of the tavern and ignored the curious stares she was getting from most of the men present. As a rule, she enjoyed arousing male interest but she had other things on her mind at that moment. She was grateful when the tall, gangly figure of Marcus Johnson entered the room and crossed over to her. Kitty rose from her chair to accept a kiss on the cheek and an effusive greeting from the newcomer. A collective murmur of disappointment went up from the other tables. She was spoken for.

  In fact, Marcus was her half-brother but the familiar way in which he leant across the table towards her hinted at a more intimate relationship. He ordered drinks and exchanged niceties with Kitty until they were brought. After clinking glasses, they sipped their respective drinks.

  ‘I haven’t seen you for ages, Kitty,’ he complained.

  ‘I’ve been busy.’

  ‘On my behalf, I hope.’

  ‘And on my own,’ she said tartly. ‘I don’t see it as my purpose in life to run your errands, Marcus.’

  ‘I’m your brother.’

  ‘My half-brother – there’s a big difference.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘you only love me half as much as I love you.’

  He grinned broadly. There were certainly no physical similarities to proclaim their blood relationship. Kitty’s beauty was thrown into relief by Johnson’s long, thin, bony face with its aquiline nose and prominent chin. While she was poised, his features were mobile. In place of her perfect set of teeth, he had a mouthful of over-large incisors and canines. A few years older than Kitty, he seemed to glow with confidence. He took her hand.

  ‘What can you tell me?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s far too early, Marcus.’

  ‘You must have picked up some information.’

  ‘I’ve picked up far too much,’ she said. ‘I only have a very limited interest in horses and I’m fast approaching that limit.’

  ‘Think what this could mean to us, Kitty.’

  ‘That’s what I have been doing and I’m coming to the conclusion that this is just another of your madcap schemes to get rich. They always fail, Marcus. Why should this one be any different?’

  ‘Because we’re working together this time.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ she denied.

  ‘You swore that you’d help me.’

  ‘First and foremost, I’m in this for myself.’

  ‘I accept
that,’ he said, squeezing her hand, ‘but you ought to remember who contrived the introduction for you. Without me, you might never have got to meet Hamilton Fido.’

  ‘I’d have found a way somehow.’

  ‘But your clever half-brother made it so much easier for you.’ He bared his teeth in another grin. ‘We both stand to gain, Kitty.’

  ‘That’s a matter of opinion.’

  ‘Fido is much more companionable than Lord Hendry.’

  ‘Don’t mention him,’ she said sharply.

  ‘Too tight with his money?’

  ‘Oh, he was generous enough, I suppose. But he was too frightened to be seen with me at a racecourse. He wanted private pleasure without any public acknowledgement of it. Hamilton is the opposite. He loves to be seen at the races with me.’

  ‘You’re gorgeous – any sane man would want to show you off.’

  ‘Lord Hendry didn’t.’ She sipped her drink and studied him with a blend of fondness and faint despair. ‘When are you going to find a profession worthy of your talents, Marcus?’

  ‘I’ve found a number in my time.’

  ‘But you never stay long in any of them.’

  ‘I’m a restless spirit, Kitty,’ he said grandiloquently, ‘forever in search of the life on a higher plane that my talents deserve. You’ve elevated yourself by means of beauty. I’m doing it by other means.’

  ‘By gambling on horses?’

  ‘Fortunes have often been made that way.’

  ‘And lost just as often.’

  ‘Only by people with insufficient information,’ he boasted. ‘That’s why I hold the whip hand over them. I have someone who’s in the perfect place to guide me.’

  ‘All I can tell you are the odds that Hamilton is setting.’

  ‘I can get those myself, Kitty. What I need is inside knowledge. Which horse does he really think will win the Derby? Those odds might just be a smokescreen to make people back Odysseus or Limerick Lad. That would lengthen the odds on Merry Legs. If I put a heavy bet on the filly, I could be made.’ He smiled coaxingly. ‘You’ll get your share, of course.’

  ‘Fillies never win the Derby – I know that much.’

  ‘Merry Legs could be the exception that proves the rule.’

  ‘Hamilton thinks she has a good chance but no more than that.’

 

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