‘Keepsakes?’ snorted Tallis. ‘What use are they?’
‘They’re clues to the sort of person Feeny really was, sir.’
‘We know the sort of person he is – a dead one. He’s a murder victim, Inspector. Instead of worrying about him any more, you should concentrate solely on his killer.’
‘I need the lad’s help to do that,’ said Colbeck, ‘and I have every hope that he’ll give it to me. Dead men should never be discounted as a source of information. John Feeny is a case in point, sir. My belief is that he will rise from the grave to assist us.’
‘Let me see it, Kitty.’
‘No,’ she replied.
‘Show me where he hit you.’
‘There’s no point, Hamilton. The bruise has gone now.’
‘Which side of the head was it?’
‘Leave me be. It doesn’t matter any more.’
‘Oh, yes, it does,’ said Hamilton Fido sternly. ‘It matters a great deal to me and to Marcus. Nobody touches you with impunity. Now, please – let me see.’
Kitty Lavender and the bookmaker were in one of the rooms he had rented for her near the racecourse. All her attempts to conceal her injury were in vain. He was insistent. After another round of protests, she eventually gave in.
‘You’re making far too much fuss over it,’ she said.
‘Which side?’
‘On the left.’
He pushed her hair back gently and saw how much powder she had used on her temple. Taking out a handkerchief, he first licked it then applied it gingerly to her head. As the powder was wiped off, the vestigial bruise slowly came into view. Fido was incensed.
‘Lord Hendry did this to you?’ he exclaimed, standing back.
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll murder him!’
‘Calm down, Hamilton.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me about this?’
‘Because I was afraid of the way you’d react,’ she said, ‘and I was right to do so. Both you and Marcus flew off the handle.’
‘Do you blame us?’
‘No – I blame myself.’
‘Yourself?’
‘I provoked him, Hamilton. I couldn’t resist hurling your name at him. That was too much for George to bear.’
‘Nothing can excuse what he did, Kitty.’
‘Oh, I don’t excuse it,’ she said ruefully, ‘believe me. I intended to get my revenge on George but I meant to do it in my own way.’
‘I’m doing it on your behalf.’
‘Is it true that you’ve challenged him to a duel?’
‘Yes,’ said Fido. ‘First of all, I’ll let him watch Odysseus get beaten in the Derby then I’ll send him off to Hell with whichever weapon he chooses.’
‘You’ll need to watch him. George comes from military stock.’
‘He’ll be no match for me, Kitty. He’s at least twenty years older and he drinks far too much. When I issued my challenge, I could sense that he was terrified.’
‘I’m the one who’s terrified. You might be wounded.’
‘I’ve fought duels before,’ he told her, ‘and I’ve always emerged from them without a scratch. Why are you so upset? Don’t you want Lord Hendry to be killed?’
‘Yes!’ she said with sudden rage. ‘Cut down without mercy.’
‘Leave it to me.’
‘I hate him. I don’t know why I ever got involved with George.’
‘You were dazzled by his title and his wealth.’
‘The title, perhaps,’ she confessed, ‘not by his money. He always seemed to be prosperous but I found out that he’d run up sizeable debts. It’s the reason he’s staking so much on the Derby. George believes it will help him pay off his creditors and still leave him with a substantial amount.’
‘Then he’s in for a massive disappointment, Kitty.’
‘Is there no way that Odysseus will win the race?’
Fido smirked. ‘Not if I have anything to do with it.’
‘George thinks the result is cut and dried. He’s so confident that his horse will be first that he’s even had a portrait of Odysseus painted. It’s already hanging somewhere in his house, I daresay. He said that I’d share in his triumph,’ she recalled with a cynical smile. ‘After the race, George promised to take me to Paris with the proceeds. Instead of that, I end up getting beaten across the head with his cane. Yes, I do want him killed, Hamilton,’ she said, clenching both fists. ‘My only regret is that I’m not the person to do the deed.’
Admiring her spirit, Fido kissed her impulsively. Then he walked across to a side-table and poured two glasses of brandy out of a crystal decanter. He handed one to Kitty and became pensive.
‘Tell me about this portrait of Odysseus,’ he said.
A heavy drizzle was falling when he arrived at the house in Camden. As she let him in, Madeleine Andrews sounded a note of mock reproof.
‘This is the second time you’ve brought rain, Robert.’
‘I’d hate you to associate me with bad weather,’ he said with gallantry, ‘because you always bring sunshine into my life.’
She laughed, thanked him for the compliment and accepted his kiss. Then she hung his damp hat on a peg behind the door. Sitting down beside each other, they held hands.
‘Have you been at Epsom all day?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘There were more people there than ever.’
‘You did say that I might get to see the Derby this year.’
‘And I hope to honour that promise, Madeleine.’
‘What happened today?’
He told her about the attempted poisoning of Merry Legs and about his meeting with Brian Dowd. Shocked by news of the crime, she reserved her main interest for the comments about John Feeny.
‘He and Mr Dowd parted on friendly terms?’ she said.
‘That’s what Dowd claims.’
‘Well, it’s not what Bonny Rimmer told me. She heard it from Feeny himself and he had no cause to lie to her. He had to leave Ireland because he’d no chance of finding another job there. Mr Dowd said he’d make sure of that.’ She pulled a face. ‘Is that what he calls parting on friendly terms?’
‘I suppose there’s been no word from Bonny,’ said Colbeck.
‘Not yet.’
‘Do you expect to hear from her?’
‘I’m depending on it,’ said Madeleine. ‘When I spoke to her on Sunday, she was very emotional. She still hadn’t resigned herself to the fact that she’d never see John Feeny again. She wanted time to collect her thoughts. When she’d done that, she said she’d be in touch with me. I told her how vital that was.’
‘Did you give her this address?’
‘Yes, Robert, and I gave her the directions to get here. At first she was frightened at the idea of coming to a big city but I managed to still her fears. Since I knew she’d worry about the cost of travel, I took your advice and gave her the money you provided.’
‘It was the least I could do for her,’ he said.
‘That was typical of you.’
‘She’s a key witness, Madeleine. Bonny Rimmer knows things about John Feeny that nobody else could tell us. I’ll pay any travel expenses that she incurs.’
‘Has the superintendent given you your money yet?’
‘No,’ replied Colbeck dolefully. ‘I have to find the killer before Mr Tallis will refund my expenses. He still claims that my visit to Ireland was largely a waste of time.’
‘That’s ridiculous!’
‘Try telling that to him.’
She giggled. ‘After listening to some of the things you’ve said about him,’ she recalled, ‘I’ll avoid him like the plague.’
‘Even though he’s a colleague of yours?’
‘I don’t work for the Detective Department.’
‘Not officially,’ he said, ‘but you work for me and that amounts to the same thing. You’re the most charming assistant I’ve ever had.’
‘What about Sergeant Leeming?’
&
nbsp; Colbeck laughed. ‘Even his wife wouldn’t dare to call Victor charming. Nature decided that. However, he’s everything a policeman should be and that’s all that matters in the long run.’
‘Where will you be tomorrow?’
‘Back at Epsom with Victor.’
‘Have you heard any talk about the Derby?’
‘We’ve heard little else, Madeleine. Everyone is talking about the prospects of Lord Hendry’s Odysseus – except Hamilton Fido, that is. He is as certain as can be that the favourite will be beaten. The odds may not reflect this but, in his heart – if a bookmaker can be said to possess such a thing – he believes that Merry Legs will win.’
‘Father is tempted to back Princess of Fire.’
‘Mr Fido says she’s only in the race for experience.’
‘Who will you be backing, Robert?’
‘I really don’t know,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve been trying to separate the horses from their owners in my mind and I’m finding that difficult. The horses are all fine animals, I daresay, but the owners are a rather unprepossessing trio. Lord Hendry is dry and aloof. Hamilton Fido is as trustworthy as a paper bucket filled with seawater. And Brian Dowd, I learnt today, doesn’t always tell the truth.’
‘So where will you put your money?’
‘I’m rather tempted by Aleppo.’
‘If I come to the Derby, I’ll cheer him to the echo.’
‘Don’t be so hasty, Madeleine. I haven’t decided on a horse yet. As for the Derby,’ he went on, ‘you’ll be there one way or another.’
‘Father will be very jealous. He’s working that afternoon.’
‘Then he should be grateful he’s not driving one of the special trains to Epsom. We travelled on one today. It was packed to capacity.’
‘But at least the trains do go to Epsom now.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed with a nod. ‘In the old days, you had to take the train out of Nine Elms Station, courtesy of the Brighton and Southampton Railway. When you got out at Kingston, the cab drivers charged you the most exorbitant fees to drive you the few miles to Epsom. All that’s changed now. You can catch a train at London Bridge Station and go all the way.’
‘I hope to do exactly that on Wednesday, Robert.’
He responded to her smile. ‘You will, Madeleine,’ he said fondly. ‘I just hope and pray that Bonny Rimmer comes to see you before then. We need her help. And there’s something else we need as well.’
‘What’s that?’
‘A period of calm before the Derby is run,’ he told her. ‘We’ve had enough crimes to deal with already. What we require now is a long, quiet, restful, law-abiding passage of time.’
Drizzle had turned into driving rain. It was so persistent that the dogs were locked in their kennels instead of being let out to roam around the house. In the middle of the wet, blustery night, everyone was fast asleep in bed. Nobody heard the shutters being forced nor the tinkle of glass as a panel was smashed to allow a hand to reach through. When the catch was released, the sash window was lifted right up and the thief clambered over the sill. Glad to be out of the rain at last, he looked around in the gloom.
‘Now, then, Odysseus,’ he said to himself, ‘where are you?’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lord George Hendry was absolutely distraught. Stunned, wounded and hollow-eyed, he sat in his library and stared up at the gilt frame that had once surrounded the portrait of Odysseus. The horse had now bolted. The frame still hung over the marble fireplace but the oil painting had been cut out and removed. He was inconsolable. Lord Hendry was not simply mourning the loss of his colt and of the large amount of money it had cost to immortalise the animal on canvas. To him, the theft was a dreadful omen. Odysseus might not, after all, win the Derby. Its owner was facing ruin.
It was still early morning when Inspector Robert Colbeck arrived at the house in response to the urgent summons. A servant showed him into the library but Lord Hendry did not even notice him at first. Colbeck had to clear his throat to gain his attention.
‘Good morning, my lord,’ he said.
The other looked up. ‘Ah, you’re here,’ he said dully.
‘When I heard the news, I came as quickly as I could.’ Colbeck glanced at the empty frame. ‘I can see why you’re so distressed.’
‘Distressed?’ Lord Hendry gave a mirthless laugh.
‘When was the theft discovered?’
‘Not long after dawn – one of the servants heard the shutters banging and got up to investigate. He found that someone had broken into the house through the dining-room window.’
‘I’ll need to see the exact spot.’
‘The alarm was raised and I came downstairs to face this catastrophe,’ said Lord Hendry, rising from his chair to point at the gilt frame. ‘Odysseus has been stolen.’
‘Was anything else taken?’
‘Isn’t this bad enough, man!’
‘Yes, yes,’ said Colbeck, ‘of course, it is, Lord Hendry. But I want to establish if the thief came for the sole purpose of stealing the painting or if it was only one of many items that went missing.’
‘Nothing else was taken, Inspector. He was after my horse.’
‘You have my sympathy – it was a magnificent painting.’
‘Odysseus is a magnificent colt,’ asserted Lord Hendry. ‘That’s something my wife has never been able to appreciate, I fear. When she saw what had happened, she was more concerned about the muddy footprints left on the carpets than about the theft.’
‘They could help us,’ said Colbeck, noting the clear footprints that led to and from the fireplace. ‘From the size of his boots and the length of his stride, I can see that we’re looking for a tall man with large feet. There’ll be more footprints in the mud outside to show from which direction he approached the house and where he left it.’
‘What use is that? It won’t bring my painting back.’
‘Oh, I think it will be returned eventually.’
‘Balderdash! It’s already been destroyed.’
‘I disagree, Lord Henry. If the thief were intent on destruction, then he’d simply have slashed the canvas to shreds. Instead of that, judging by the way it’s been cut out, he’s removed it with great care.’
‘What does that tell you?’
‘That you may well be offered the portrait back,’ said Colbeck. ‘At a high price, naturally.’
Lord Hendry shuddered. ‘I can’t afford to pay for it twice.’
‘You can if Odysseus wins the Derby.’
‘Yes,’ said the other, rallying slightly. ‘I can, Inspector. I can pay for anything then. The horse will get that painting back for me.’
‘God willing!’
‘I don’t have to call on the Almighty. I rely entirely on form. Odysseus has been consistently faster than his nearest rivals. Over the same distance, he was even fleeter of foot than last year’s Derby winner, West Australian.’
‘But not in race conditions,’ said Colbeck. ‘In the heat of a Derby, form is not the only telling factor.’
‘It will be tomorrow,’ said Lord Hendry in a conscious effort to raise his own spirits. ‘My trainer has never been so positive about a result before and he’s handled dozens of three-year-olds.’
‘I wish you luck.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Incidentally,’ said Colbeck, ‘when I heard about this theft, my immediate concern was for Odysseus himself. I thought that he might be in danger as well. I know that you have him under armed guard, but I dispatched Sergeant Leeming to your stables to verify that there have been no problems during the night.’
‘That was considerate.’
‘Has your trainer been made aware of what happened here?’
‘Not yet,’ said Lord Hendry, ‘and my instinct is to keep the news from him and from my jockey. They’re both very superstitious. They’ll interpret the theft in the way I’ve been doing – as an evil portent.’ He was worried. ‘I hope your sergeant will not tell them about
what occurred here last night.’
‘I told him not to, Lord Hendry. His job is simply to check on the safety of Odysseus. When all is said and done, the horse is far more important than the portrait of him.’
‘Quite so.’
‘Do you have any clue as to the thief’s identity?’
‘I could hazard a guess at his paymaster.’
‘Brian Dowd?’
‘Not in this instance, Inspector,’ said Lord Hendry thoughtfully. ‘He wouldn’t even know that I had the painting. Besides, he’s never been anywhere near this house. Because Odysseus stands between him and a Derby win, Dowd is much more likely to try to injure the horse himself than steal his portrait. No,’ he continued, ‘I spy the grasping hand of Hamilton Fido behind this.’
‘How would he know that the painting existed?’
‘Someone could have told him,’ replied the other, thinking of Kitty Lavender. ‘Someone in whom I unwisely confided at one time.’
‘Are we talking about the young lady at the Wyvern Hotel?’
Lord Hendry glanced anxiously towards the door. ‘Keep your voice down, man!’ he ordered. ‘This is my home.’
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ said Colbeck, speaking in a whisper. ‘But the question cannot be avoided. Is it the lady we’ve discussed before?’
‘Yes, Inspector.’
‘You seem to have discovered that she’s formed a liaison with Mr Fido. Am I right in thinking that?’ Lord Hendry nodded sullenly. ‘Could there be an element of spite in this? Given the circumstances, could this person have urged Mr Fido to arrange the theft of the painting out of pure malice?’
‘She could and she did, Inspector,’ said Lord Hendry, deciding that Kitty wanted her revenge for the blow he had given her. ‘That must be what happened. She instigated the whole thing.’
‘Then she committed a criminal act,’ said Colbeck. ‘That being the case, it’s even more crucial that I know her name so that I can speak to her as soon as possible. If your supposition about her is correct, it may be a way to retrieve the painting sooner than I thought. Well, Lord Hendry?’ he pressed. ‘Are you going to tell me who she is?’
Still in her night attire, Kitty Lavender was propped up in bed as she watched Hamilton Fido putting on his frock coat. She was peevish.
The Iron Horse Page 21
