‘I was happy to do so.’
‘Try to remember that. You’ll thank me one day. In fact—’
She broke off as she heard heavy footsteps approaching in the corridor. When there was a knock on the door, she unlocked it and opened it wide. He gave her a warm smile that instantly wiped away all of her lingering anxieties. Rhoda slipped away to the adjoining room to leave them alone. The man stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Removing his hat, he tossed it onto a chair.
‘Well?’ she asked, breathlessly. ‘When do we leave?’
‘It won’t be long now, my darling,’ he promised. ‘We set sail in a day or two.’
‘Is everything in hand?’
‘It soon will be.’
‘What’s holding us up?’
‘There are a few minor details to sort out,’ he said, kissing her on the forehead and stroking her hair with a covetous hand. ‘You’re so beautiful, Imogen. I can’t wait to make you my wife.’ He held her by the shoulders and stood back a little. ‘It’s not too late to change your mind. You’re under no compulsion. If you want to go back to your dreary family, you can walk out of that door right now.’ He looked deep into her eyes. ‘Remember how badly they treated you and compare it to the way you’ve been cared for by me. Weigh us both in the balance. Which do you choose – your old life with them or an exciting new one abroad with your husband?’
Imogen laughed and hurled herself unconditionally into his arms.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When they finally got back to Burnhope Manor, the detectives first went round to the stables. An ostler came to meet them and took the reins of the horse from Colbeck. The bay mare whinnied in farewell as she was led away. Leeming was relieved to part from the animal. Before they could leave the stable yard, the landau returned with Vernon Tolley on the box seat. It described a semicircle then came to a halt beside the well. The coachman jumped down and hurried across to them.
‘Might I have a word, good sirs?’ he asked.
‘Of course you may,’ said Colbeck.
‘I’m fair frightened to death by what’s been going on.’
‘So am I,’ murmured Leeming, glancing after the bay mare.
‘I fear for the lives of the two ladies.’
‘That’s only to be expected, Mr Tolley,’ said Colbeck, ‘but I believe that they are still alive. As long as they are unharmed, they can be traded by the kidnapper. He will doubtless try to strike a bargain once more.’
‘I couldn’t help listening to what was being said when I drove Sir Marcus and the others into Worcester. They seemed to think they’d been hoodwinked.’
‘We were,’ admitted Colbeck.
‘What if the kidnapper tries to hoodwink you again?’
‘That’s unlikely. We’ve learnt our lesson – and so has he.’
‘The inspector might even have caught him if it hadn’t been for Mr Tunnadine thinking that he could do our job for us,’ said Leeming, resentfully. ‘He deserves to cool his heels behind bars for a long time.’
Tolley’s laugh was hollow. ‘There’s no chance of that, Sergeant.’
‘Why not?’
‘The magistrate released him on bail.’
Leeming gasped. ‘But the man committed a murder.’
‘That’s not how the magistrate saw it,’ said the coachman. ‘They were in his house for little more than five minutes. When they came out, Mr Tunnadine had a grin on his face. He was taunting your superintendent.’
‘Then he’s a braver man than I am,’ muttered Leeming.
‘Where is Mr Tunnadine now?’ asked Colbeck.
‘He’s catching the next train to London, sir. After I dropped the others off here, I took him to the railway station. He was still smiling to himself.’
‘I don’t know that I’d be smiling if the woman I was intending to marry was being held by a ruthless criminal. Mr Tunnadine seems to be more interested in escaping incarceration than in the fate of his beloved.’
As he thought of Rhoda Wills, the coachman nodded soulfully.
‘What will you do now, Inspector?’ he asked.
‘We’ll wait until we are contacted for the second time.’
‘I pray that it may be very soon.’
‘I fancy that it will be, Mr Tolley. Let me give you a word of warning, however,’ Colbeck went on. ‘What I’ve told you is in confidence. I don’t want it spread among the servants. Enough rumours are circulating here as it is. Don’t add to them. I’ve only spoken freely to you because I’m aware that you have a special interest in the case.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ said the other, shaking his hand. ‘My lips are sealed.’
‘Good man.’
‘You’ll find Rhoda for me, won’t you?’
‘I’ll do my utmost.’
‘I’m sure you will, sir.’
‘You’ll have to excuse us,’ said Colbeck. ‘We must send someone into Worcester to instruct an undertaker to go out to the cottage where the body was taken. The sooner it’s removed, the better for the wife and daughter.’
He exchanged a nod with the coachman then took his colleague away. Tolley watched them go with fresh hope stirring. As soon as the two men went around the angle of the building, Win Eagleton scuttled out from a door to the kitchen. She tripped across the yard and arrived panting.
‘I saw you through the window, Vernon. You talked to those detectives.’
‘What of it?’
‘Tell me what they said.
‘Nothing,’ he replied, stonily. ‘They said nothing at all.’
None of them could remember the last time they were alone together. Emma Vaughan was the only one who’d been a constant resident at the college. Her younger brother had fled to London in search of fame as an artist and her elder brother had more or less disappeared into the Gloucestershire countryside. It was thrilling to see them both again but distressing to think that it took a crisis in their cousin’s life to bring them under the same roof once more. They were in the drawing room. George Vaughan was stretched out languidly on the chaise longue while his brother perched on the edge of an armchair. Emma was on the sofa between them.
‘What can we do?’ she asked in despair.
‘We must pray for their deliverance,’ said her elder brother.
‘I’ve already been doing that, Percy.’
‘Never underestimate the power of supplication. Later on, we’ll all pray together in the college chapel.’
‘Don’t include me in the service,’ said his brother, tossing his hair back. ‘I’ve seen the light and turned my back on religion.’
‘That’s an appalling thing to say!’ chided Emma.
‘It’s the truth.’
‘It’s your version of the truth, George,’ said Percy Vaughan, ‘and it’s based on a misapprehension. What you claim to reject is Christianity but all that you’ve done is to replace it with an alternative religion, one that is founded on vice and cupidity.’
‘That’s quite right, Percy,’ agreed his brother, cheerfully. ‘I follow a different god now and he’s far less austere than yours. We are opposites, dear brother. You are the Reverend Vaughan and I am the Irreverent Vaughan.’
‘Beware what you say in front of Emma,’ warned the curate.
‘Oh, I don’t believe all this nonsense about his life of wild abandon,’ she said with a giggle. ‘George is simply trying to shock us.’
‘He’s certainly shocked our father. His letters to me are full of tales about my dissolute brother. The stories cannot all be invention.’
‘What stories?’ asked Emma. ‘I’ve heard none.’
‘It’s best that you don’t.’
‘But I love George. I want to know about his life in London.’
‘It’s the capital city of corruption.’
‘Well,’ said his brother, sitting up, ‘it certainly has more temptations than a village like North Cerney could ever offer. But let’s forget about my supposed descent into unbridled
wickedness, shall we?’ he continued. ‘Imogen should occupy our thoughts now – and that jolly maid of hers. I liked Rhoda. All three of us have spoken to a detective. Let’s pool our knowledge and see what we’ve learnt between us.’
‘That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said since I got here,’ said the curate, approvingly. ‘Let Emma go first.’
‘I spoke with Inspector Colbeck and Sergeant Leeming,’ she said.
‘I only met the sergeant,’ explained her younger brother. ‘He was an unsightly creature but I took him for an upright fellow.’
‘It’s reassuring to know that you can still recognise virtue in a human being,’ said the curate, tartly. ‘Now, don’t interrupt our sister.’
Emma recalled the interview with the two detectives, teasing out every detail from her memory with one striking omission. She was too embarrassed to confess that she had told them about Percy Vaughan’s love for his cousin. Her younger brother also chose to forget certain things that occurred during Victor Leeming’s visit to his studio. Dolly Wrenson was painted discreetly out of the picture. Having listened to his siblings with great interest, the curate talked about Colbeck’s visit to the parish church in North Cerney. What he suppressed was the fact that he’d firmly believed Imogen and her maid to be dead. The news about the ransom demand had convinced him that both of them were still alive, albeit in serious danger.
‘Inspector Colbeck surprised me,’ he confessed. ‘I never expected a policeman to be quite so intelligent. In younger days, he was an undergraduate at Pembroke College. Having read law at Oxford, he’s now committed to its enforcement.’
‘Having read almost nothing here,’ interjected his brother, ‘I’m committed to a life of pure – or impure – enjoyment.’
‘Be serious for once, George,’ urged Emma.
‘I was never more so.’
Comparing their respective experiences had proved to be a useful exercise. Each one of them had learnt something new about the investigation. As a result, Emma was deeply troubled and her elder brother moved to sit beside her so that he could console her. It was George Vaughan who grasped at a stray memory.
‘Wait!’ he said, rising to his feet. ‘Emma remembers telling the detectives about a soldier on the platform at Oxford station. That could be significant.’
‘I don’t see why,’ she said. ‘I only saw him for a second.’
‘Think back. Didn’t you and Imogen once have an encounter with a soldier?’
‘That was over a year ago, George. In fact, it might have been eighteen months. I don’t see that it’s at all relevant.’
‘It was relevant to our cousin at the time. I recall her telling me about it.’
‘What’s this about Imogen and a soldier?’ asked the curate, anxious to learn any detail about his cousin. ‘Why was I not told about it?’
‘It wasn’t that important,’ argued Emma.
‘I should let the detectives decide that,’ said the artist.
‘But we never saw that soldier again, George.’
‘You might not have seen him – what about Imogen?’
Having watched the comings and goings from an upstairs window, Cassandra Vaughan waited until her sister had dozed off again, then descended the stairs at speed, determined to learn exactly what had happened. When she barged into the library, she made no apology for disturbing the four men there. Tallis, Colbeck and Leeming rose politely from their seats but Sir Marcus showed her no such respect. He strode across to her, intent on ushering her out of the room again.
‘I’m not a cat, Marcus,’ she warned. ‘I’ll not be shooed away.’
‘This is a private conversation, Cassandra. You are interrupting us.’
‘I’m staying until someone finally tells me what’s going on.’
‘I’ll be pleased to do so, Mrs Vaughan,’ said Colbeck, indicating a seat. ‘You haven’t met Superintendent Tallis, have you?’
‘No, Inspector, I’ve not had that pleasure,’ she said, acknowledging Tallis with a nod before sitting down. He responded with a pale smile. ‘Now, who is in charge?’
‘I am, Mrs Vaughan,’ said Tallis.
‘Then tell me where you all charged off to earlier.’
Tallis hesitated and Sir Marcus was a block of granite. Colbeck stepped in.
‘The facts are these,’ he began. ‘A ransom note was received by Sir Marcus. In receipt of a certain amount of money, your niece and her maid were due to be released today. Unfortunately, the kidnapper chose to deceive us. He wanted the ransom without having to surrender his captives.’
‘What about the man who tried to take the money from you, Inspector?’ asked Leeming. ‘Tell Mrs Vaughan what Mr Tunnadine did.’
‘Be quiet, man!’ hissed Tallis.
‘But it’s a crucial part of the story.’
Cassandra was curious. ‘What’s this about Mr Tunnadine?’
‘We should never have let him come with us.’
‘I’d agree with the sergeant there,’ said Colbeck, easily, ‘but let’s keep Mr Tunnadine out of this for the time being. Mrs Vaughan is now in possession of the salient facts. How much of them she decides to pass on to her sister is for her to decide.’
‘Tell her nothing,’ ordered Sir Marcus. ‘My wife is too ill to cope.’
‘Paulina is stronger than you think,’ said his sister-in-law.
‘I forbid you to pass on this information, Cassandra.’
‘She must be told something.’
‘Then give her a version of the truth,’ suggested Colbeck. ‘We are convinced that both of them are still alive and we hope – nay, expect – to rescue them very soon. There’s no need to go into detail.’ He shot a glance at Leeming. ‘And there’s certainly no need to bring Mr Tunnadine’s name in.’
‘What will happen next?’
‘That’s what we were trying to discuss before you forced your way in here,’ said Sir Marcus, testily. ‘If you’ll be so good as to leave us in peace, we can formulate our plans.’
‘I would have thought we’d already reached a conclusion,’ said Tallis. ‘My feeling is that we should follow Inspector Colbeck’s advice. I’ll return to London with the sergeant who can make contact with Mrs Vaughan’s son. Out of courtesy, the young man should be informed of the latest developments. He must be worried stiff.’
Cassandra bristled. ‘Why is George being kept informed while I am not? Am I not worthy of the same courtesy, Superintendent?’
‘Indeed you are, dear lady.’
‘Tell that to my brother-in-law.’
‘I believe that Sir Marcus accepts your right to be told.’
‘Where will Inspector Colbeck be when you go off?’
‘He will remain here until the kidnapper gets in touch again. Sir Marcus has kindly offered him a bed for the night.’
Cassandra was satisfied. Having achieved her objective – partially, at least – she left the room and went back upstairs. Tallis rose to his feet and went out. Sir Marcus made for a decanter of brandy and poured himself a glass. Leeming seized the opportunity of a quiet word with Colbeck.
‘Do I have to go back to London, sir?’ he asked.
‘I thought you’d want to see Estelle and the children.’
‘Oh, I do. But I’d hate to travel on the train with the superintendent.’
Colbeck smiled. ‘I can arrange a loan of that bay mare, if you prefer.’
‘You know what he’s like, Inspector.’
‘I do, Victor, and I sympathise. Remember that he’s still smarting over the release of a man who should have been remanded in custody. Whatever you do,’ counselled Colbeck, ‘don’t mention the name of Mr Tunnadine.’
Lucinda Graham hoped that she would not be seeing him for some time. She still had the bruises from his last visit and wondered why he’d been so unnecessarily rough with her. In the past, she’d been able to flatter and cajole him in order to get what she wanted. Those days were gone, it seemed. Clive Tunnadine’s imminent marr
iage was a watershed. It was no use fooling herself that, after the wedding, they would continue exactly as before. Their relationship would change abruptly. The way she’d been treated on his previous visit was a warning. Lucinda might be able to stay at the house for another month, perhaps more, but she was wise enough to prepare for the inevitable.
To that end, she went from room to room and gathered up all the items she treasured. Jewellery came first, then ornaments and then the gifts that he’d showered upon her in the early stages of their romance. Lucinda put them all together in one chest of drawers, planning to move them out in stages so that he was unaware of their disappearance. She expected no more expensive gifts from Tunnadine. They would be reserved for his wife. Lucinda felt sorry for the woman. She’d be entering a hollow marriage with a man who would never wholly commit himself to a wife. There would always be someone like Lucinda Graham in the shadows.
She was examining a silver locket he’d given her when she heard the key turn in the lock downstairs. Tunnadine had returned. The maid gave him a dutiful welcome but all he did was to stuff his hat into her hands. Pounding up the stairs, he came into the room where Lucinda had just hidden the locket away. Tense and throbbing with anger, he began to take off his clothes. Lucinda immediately did the same thing, afraid to speak or to contradict him in any way. When he was ready, Tunnadine grabbed her remaining underwear and tore it off her. She didn’t dare to protest as he lifted her up and threw her onto the bed. There had been times, especially at the start, when he’d taken care to give as well as to take pleasure. He was in no mood to caress and excite her now. Driven by lust, he simply kissed, groped and rolled on top of her until he was ready to thrust deep inside her. She winced at the sudden pain.
It was even more of an ordeal than on his previous visit. All that she could do was to grit her teeth and run her hands up and down his back. The one consolation was that it did not last long. When he reached the height of his pleasure, he let out a cry of satisfaction and pumped away even harder. Lucinda could smell the whisky on his breath. He seemed heavier than ever and she began to feel smothered. All at once, it was over. Tunnadine pulled out of her and sat up on the bed, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. When he realised where he was, he ran an absent-minded hand across her breasts as a vague token of gratitude.
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