‘I was struggling with the man when the woman – Mrs Holdstock, I suppose it must have been – hit me from behind with something. I went out like a snuffed candle. By the time I’d regained consciousness, they’d disappeared.’ He managed a weak grin. ‘But I managed to save the money,’ he continued. ‘It’s scattered all over the place.’ He glanced at the house. ‘How did you get in, Peter?’
‘I had to smash the window.’
‘What did you find?’
‘I haven’t had time to do a proper search. But you need a wet cloth on that bruise of yours,’ he said, looking at the back of his brother’s head. ‘There’s no blood but the lump is already coming up.’
‘I know. I can feel it. To be honest …’
‘Be quiet!’ said Peter, cutting him short. ‘And listen.’
‘What am I listening for?’
‘I thought I heard a voice.’
They fell silent and looked around. The sound was very faint but they both heard it. Peter sensed that it came from the grating above the cellar. Crossing over to it, he knelt down and peered in.
‘Is anyone there?’ he called.
The reply was more audible. ‘Yes, I am.’
‘Is that you, Mrs Horner?’
Charlotte had not been included in her husband’s plan simply to assist in the pursuit of one of the kidnappers. Peter had rightly assumed that, if they were led to the house in which the two of them were staying, their hostage would be there as well. He wanted his wife at hand to comfort a woman who’d been through a frightening ordeal and that’s exactly what Charlotte did. When she was released from the cellar, Anne Horner was almost delirious with relief but she was also weakened by her ordeal and largely incomprehensible. Charlotte made her lie down in one of the bedrooms and went to get a drink to revive her. But the luxury of a feather bed was too seductive and Anne fell into a deep and restful sleep.
The brothers, meanwhile, gathered up all the banknotes in the garden and put them back into the leather bag. They then conducted a search of the whole house and put everything they found on the table in the dining room. There were so many surprises that Paul forgot all about the thudding ache at the back of his skull. He picked up the bow and arrow.
‘I suppose that I was lucky,’ he said. ‘If she’d had this, she’d have fired an arrow at me instead of simply knocking me unconscious.’
‘It wouldn’t have been an ordinary arrow, Paul,’ said his brother. ‘That might wound but it wouldn’t necessarily kill you. This, however, would.’
Holding a small bottle he’d just uncorked, he sniffed it and passed it over.
‘What is it?’ asked Paul, smelling the liquid in turn.
‘I’d say it was poison.’
‘Do you think it was going to be used on the arrow head?’
‘It’s very likely. That’s why it was attached to the quiver. I want an apothecary to test it first. He’ll tell us how lethal it might be.’
‘For whom was a poisoned arrow intended?’
‘They had someone in mind.’
They sorted their way through the other items, which included the purse that was handed over by Beyton in Hyde Park. As promised by Peter, all of his money had now been retrieved but he’d failed to arrest the kidnappers. Paul picked up some sheets of paper and scanned them. His eye was immediately caught by something.
‘Your name is on here, Peter,’ he said in surprise.
His brother took the sheet of paper from him. ‘Where?’
‘It’s near the top.’
‘So it is – and so are one or two other names I recognise. I worked with this man in France,’ said Peter, pointing someone out. Thinking it through, he was very disturbed. ‘Do you know what this might be?’
‘What?’
‘It’s a list of names and addresses of agents who worked or still are working for the British government. This is highly confidential and could only have come from the Home Office.’ He put it down. ‘How could Mrs Holdstock and her accomplice possibly have got their hands on it?’
‘You might ask the same question of this,’ said Paul, reading another sheet of paper. ‘It’s the seating plan for His Royal Highness and other dignitaries at the celebrations in Hyde Park.’
Peter looked over his shoulder. ‘Heavens!’ he exclaimed as he studied the notes. ‘This is what they’re really interested in. They didn’t abduct Mrs Horner simply in order to hold her to ransom. They wanted her out of the way so that they could get someone into the Home Office in place of her. This whole business is a plot devised by French patriots who refuse to accept our victory at Waterloo. They mean to strike back.’ He took the seating plan from his brother and inspected it. ‘Somebody on here was destined to have a poisoned arrow in his back.’
Anne Horner could not believe the kindness that was being shown to her. After the horrors of her imprisonment, she was treated with excessive care and respect. When she’d had a restorative sleep for an hour or so, she came awake to see Charlotte seated beside her. Anne was pathetically grateful for her rescue.
‘Who are you and how did you find me?’
There seemed no point in distressing her with details of the ransom demand and a reminder of her ill-fated relationship with a clerk at the Home Office. Charlotte simply told her that she belonged to a detective agency and that they’d managed to track the kidnappers to that address. While Anne had been sleeping, Huckvale had made some enquiries of the neighbours. It transpired that the house had been rented on a short-term lease that was about to expire. Little had been seen of the man and woman who lived there and no servant had been spotted at all. One neighbour talked of hearing strange noises from the cellar of the house but had not connected them with a kidnap victim.
‘All we know is that the woman called herself Mrs Holdstock,’ explained Charlotte. ‘She came to our shooting gallery and took lessons in archery.’
‘That must have been the noise that I heard,’ said Anne. ‘It was a sort of thud.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘I can’t tell you how I feel, Mrs Skillen. It’s been a nightmare. I thought I’d never escape from that cellar.’
‘You’re free now, Mrs Horner. As soon as you feel well enough, we’ll take you back to our house and send for a doctor to examine you. While you’re recovering, you’ll be a guest under our roof.’
‘But you don’t even know me.’
‘We know enough to make you very welcome.’
Anne reached out to squeeze her hand in gratitude then burst into tears.
David Beyton had been on tenterhooks. He’d made a provisional arrangement to meet Peter Skillen at a tavern but had to wait a couple of hours before the latter eventually turned up. Beyton leapt up from his chair.
‘I thought you’d never come,’ he said, anxiously.
‘We had a lot to do, Mr Beyton.’
‘What happened? Did you catch them? Is Mrs Horner safe? Where’s my money?’ Peter put the leather bag on the table. ‘Thank goodness!’ exclaimed the other, grabbing it. ‘I thought I’d lost it for ever.’
‘It’s all there, sir, including the first amount that you handed over.’
‘My bank manager will be thrilled to see it back in the account.’
‘Are you going to tell him the truth this time?’ Beyton sat down guiltily and Peter took the seat opposite him. ‘As for your other questions, I’m pleased to tell you that Mrs Horner is safe and apparently unharmed.’
‘Where have you taken the kidnappers?’
‘They got away, I fear,’ confessed Peter.
‘You mean that they’re still at liberty?’ cried the other, eyes protruding in fear. ‘If they know that I tricked them, they’ll do what they threatened.’
‘We’ve no way of stopping them, Mr Beyton.’
‘You were meant to arrest them.’
‘We did our best,’ said Peter, levelly. ‘We followed them to the house where they were staying and recovered some valuable evidence but Mrs Holdstock and her accomplice escape
d through the garden.’
‘This is dreadful. They’re bound to tell my wife now.’
‘Then I suggest that you go straight home and tell her yourself first. We’ve saved Mrs Horner’s life and restored your money to you. We’ve also learnt that the ransom demand was only part of a much wider conspiracy. In view of that,’ said Peter, ‘we feel that we’ve achieved something important. There’s danger ahead but at least we know in what form it’s going to come.’ He looked with disgust at Beyton, clutching his money to his chest. ‘Count your money, sir,’ he advised, ‘then do what you should have done already and have a long, honest conversation with your wife.’
When she took Anne Horner back to the house, Charlotte had a hip bath filled with cans of hot water so that the woman could feel clean again. Since her own clothing was badly sullied, Anne was given the loan of various items. After she’d had refreshment, she asked if she could lie down. Charlotte conducted her to a bedroom and made sure that she was comfortable. When she came downstairs, she found that Paul had arrived.
‘How is she?’ he asked.
‘She’s very tired and still very confused.’
‘Has she been seen by a doctor?’
‘I’ve sent for one but I don’t think there’s any physical harm. It’s her mind that’s been damaged, Paul. She still can’t believe that she’s free at last.’
‘They had her chained up in that cellar.’
‘I know,’ said Charlotte, sadly. ‘She told me about it. Compared to hers, my life is so privileged. While she was being treated like an animal, I was free and living in comfort, enjoying a night at the theatre, shopping in Piccadilly, visiting friends, working at the gallery and doing all the things that I love to do. I was in heaven while she was in hell.’
‘Poor woman,’ said Paul. ‘I do sympathise. But I’m glad that you mentioned your trip to Piccadilly. I’ve been thinking about the way that you were spurned by that actress.’ He feigned ignorance. ‘What was her name again?’
‘Miss Granville – Miss Hannah Granville.’
‘In my experience, thespians usually lap up praise of all kinds.’
‘That’s what she did at first,’ recalled Charlotte. ‘When I congratulated her on her performance, she was all smiles. But as soon as I told her that Peter and I had thoroughly enjoyed the play, she took offence and stormed off.’
Paul was roused. ‘Were those your actual words?’
‘No, I merely said that my husband and I were entranced by her.’ She looked at him shrewdly. ‘Are you all right, Paul? Did I upset you in some way?’
There was a long pause while his brain whirred. He then became aware that she was still eyeing him with consternation.
‘No, no,’ he replied, kissing her on the cheek by way of apology. ‘You haven’t upset me at all, Charlotte. I’m sorry. My mind strayed for a moment. Let’s think about Mrs Horner,’ he said, pretending to do so. ‘She has first call on our attention.’
Peter Skillen showed the papers to the Home Secretary and explained how he believed they’d come into the hands of the attackers. Sidmouth was flabbergasted. Torn between gratitude and alarm, he didn’t know whether to thank Peter for uncovering a conspiracy or to contemplate the horror of what had occurred. In the event, he unlocked his desk and took out a pile of documents. They were in the precise order in which they’d always been.
‘Somebody gained access to them, my lord,’ said Peter.
‘But everyone on my staff is entirely trustworthy. That’s why I appointed them. I’ve known them for years.’
‘You haven’t known your necessary woman for years.’
‘Levitt? No, I can’t believe that it was her.’
‘She was alone in here during the night, my lord. If she were in league with the conspirators, they’d have provided her with a means of opening that drawer. If they can rent a fine house like the one we saw, they obviously have funds. Mrs Levitt will have been offered far more than she could earn doing menial chores here.’
‘No, no,’ said Sidmouth. ‘She came with the highest recommendation and she arrived at a time when we most needed her.’
‘Isn’t that enough in itself to arouse suspicion?’ asked Peter. ‘She may have done good service while she was here but I’ll wager than you never set eyes on her again.’ He indicated the papers. ‘That’s what she came for, my lord.’ Sidmouth reeled. ‘May I suggest that you keep all documents of real importance in a safe? Having had the honour of serving as an agent in France, I was pleased to see my name recorded in the list but it was very unwise to add my address. That should have been kept separately by you alone.’
‘You are right, Mr Skillen,’ admitted the other. ‘I’ve been too lax. It won’t happen again. As for Levitt, if she really is involved in this conspiracy, I will hang my head in shame. It never crossed my mind for a second that we’d allowed a French spy to work here.’
‘Who recruited her, my lord?’
‘It was one of my undersecretaries. And before you accuse him,’ he went on, ‘let me tell you that Grocott is a man of unimpeachable character. Levitt was, I seem to recall, recommended by a friend at his club.’
‘Then you need to know who that friend was, my lord, because the chances are that he, too, is implicated in some way.’
‘Dear me!’ exclaimed Sidmouth. ‘We have enemies all around us, it seems.’
‘Victory on a battlefield is never a final event,’ said Peter. ‘There will always be those who yearn for revenge, alas, so the conflict continues in other ways.’
‘It’s not only vengeful Frenchmen we must fear.’
‘Who else, my lord?’
Sidmouth picked up the copy of The Times on his desk and waved it.
‘This contains an article about the deliberations of the joint commission on the massacre at Dartmoor prison. Someone has leaked their verdict in advance.’
‘What is it?’
‘It’s one of justifiable homicide,’ said Sidmouth. ‘How will Thomas O’Gara and Moses Dagg react to that, do you think?’
Dermot Fallon hired a horse and cart so that all three of them could drive to a leafy suburb where they’d be unlikely to be disturbed. When they’d found a wood that suited their purpose, O’Gara used a dagger to carve something into the trunk of a tree. As he stepped back, the others saw that it was the shape of a head.
‘You go first, Moses,’ said O’Gara.
Dagg had already loaded the pistol. Holding it at arm’s length, he took aim and fired. There was a loud report then O’Gara examined the tree.
‘Well done!’ he said. ‘You blew his brains out first time.’
Hannah Granville was still in turmoil. While her career as an actress had reached a new peak, her private life was tortured with regret. She still found it difficult to believe that she’d been so comprehensively deceived by Paul Skillen. The realisation had been a severe blow to her. In an effort to shed her preoccupation with him, she went to the theatre an hour earlier than usual that evening so that she could be alone in her dressing room and concentrate on the performance that lay ahead. She was greeted by the stage doorkeeper who gave her several letters of congratulation that had been delivered by hand. Hannah looked forward to reading them. When she entered the dressing room, however, there was no chance of even opening them because she had company. Paul Skillen was seated in a chair.
‘Good evening, Hannah,’ he said, rising to his feet.
‘How did you get in here?’ she gasped.
‘I always told you that I was resourceful.’
She turned away. ‘I’ll have you thrown out at once.’
‘No, no,’ he said, stepping between her and the door. ‘Please listen to what I have to say. If you still wish me to go, I’ll walk out of your life for ever.’
‘You’ve already done that, Paul. When I saw you in the audience with your wife, I saw how cruelly I’d been misled.’
He laughed. ‘So that’s it! I prayed that it might be.’
‘It’s hardly a subject for amusement.’
‘I’m laughing with relief, Hannah, don’t you see? My sister-in-law told me what happened when she met you in that shop in Piccadilly. You snubbed her.’
Hannah froze. ‘Did you call her your sister-in-law?’
‘Yes, her name is Charlotte.’
‘She told me that she was your wife. I saw her with you twice.’
‘What you saw was my twin brother, Peter,’ he explained. ‘We are often mistaken for each other.’ She remained unconvinced. ‘If you don’t believe me, I’ll take you to their house after the performance and you’ll see for yourself.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me that you had a twin brother?’
‘I wanted you all to myself, Hannah – and I still do.’
Her voice softened. ‘You’ve given me so much anguish, Paul.’
‘Then I apologise unreservedly. By the same token, however, you’ve given me great pain. How do you think I felt when I saw you leaving the theatre with that handsome young man?’ She stifled a laugh. ‘Don’t deny it. By the sound of it, you were seen with him by my sister-in-law as well. He’s my replacement.’
‘Yes, I was seen with him,’ she confessed, ‘but Felix is not a replacement for you. It would be very improper, for a start. Felix Dalrymple is my half-brother. He was in London for a few days so we spent time together, that is all. I needed a man to keep my admirers at arm’s length and Felix did that admirably. How strange!’ she went on. ‘I have been in agony over this phantom wife of yours and you thought that I’d turn to the first man who paid me a charming compliment. What a pair we are, Paul!’
The differences between them had suddenly dissolved completely. Hannah no longer wanted him to abandon the dangerous work that meant so much to him and Paul no longer bridled at the thought that someone was imposing limitations on him. In retrospect, their disagreement seemed petty. All that mattered now was that they were back together again.
Paul smiled at her. ‘Why don’t you lock that door?’
Shadow of the Hangman Page 30
