11 - Ticket to Oblivion (9 page)

‘But I’m bound to wonder what will happen to me afterwards.’

‘Be quiet, I said!’

When he raised his arm to strike her, she cowered on the bed and pleaded for mercy. Tunnadine turned away from her and grabbed his discarded apparel. He dressed quickly in a bruised silence, then stormed out, leaving her bewildered. The cosy world in which Lucinda Graham lived suddenly seemed to be under threat.

‘What did I do wrong?’ she asked, plaintively.

The fact that a hat belonging to Rhoda Wills had been found on a railway line had caused great distress to Vernon Tolley. He brooded on it all the way to Shrub Hill station.
Sir Marcus’s behaviour troubled him. Without explanation, he demanded to be taken to the station and seemed to be excessively anxious. Clearly, there’d been an unwelcome development. After waiting until Sir Marcus had left on the first stage of his journey to London, the coachman had driven back slowly towards Burnhope Manor, stopping so that he could pause for reflection in a clearing. Heartened by Colbeck’s promise that his job would be safe and that the missing women would therefore be found unharmed, he’d then been shown the hat that Rhoda had been wearing on the previous day. It robbed him instantly of his faith in the two detectives. What he’d been offered was false hope. If Rhoda’s hat could be thrown from a moving train, she could just as easily be pushed out herself. A search of the line was continuing but limited resources meant that it would be days before the whole fifty-seven miles had been thoroughly explored. Rhoda’s dead body – and that of Imogen, perhaps – could be lying at the bottom of an embankment.

Common sense argued that nobody could have got into their compartment while the train was in transit yet the hat, to him, showed at the very least that there’d been some kind of struggle. It was inconceivable that the two women had argued and resorted to violence. When they’d set off, they were both so happy in each other’s company. A third person had to be involved and there
was
a way in which he could have entered their compartment. Tolley remembered hearing of a driver who’d been sacked by the OWWR for leaving the footplate of his freight train while it was in motion and climbing back to the brake van so that he could enjoy a drink of beer with the guard. Both men had been dismissed along with the fireman who’d been left in charge
of the locomotive. Out of this stray recollection, Tolley concocted a narrative that involved someone who watched the two women getting onto the train at Shrub Hill station, concealed himself under the brake van, then climbed on top of it once the train was haring along. Having made his way along the roofs of the carriages, he lowered himself down, opened the door of the compartment in which the women were travelling and killed them before disposing of the bodies.

It was an absurd idea but, once it had taken hold if his mind, it quickly gained veracity. Instead of walking down the aisle with Rhoda Wills, he’d be attending her funeral. As a consequence of the crime, he would almost certainly lose his position as coachman. The future looked unrelievedly black to Tolley. It was hours before he was able to shake off his despair and return to Burnhope Manor. Having unharnessed, stabled and fed the horses, he wanted some time alone in his room. Win Eagleton had other ideas. She intercepted him on the stairs.

‘I hear that Rhoda’s hat has been found,’ she said, feigning concern.

‘Yes, it has.’

‘I told you that the Mickleton Tunnel would be involved.’

‘It’s just a coincidence, Win.’

‘If they search it properly, they’ll probably find her corpse in there as well.’

‘Don’t be silly.’

‘Dark deeds have taken place, Vernon. I know it.’

‘Then you know a lot more than the rest of us,’ he said, robustly. ‘You must be the only cook in England with second sight. You’ve probably never even been on that
railway. How is it that you can tell exactly what happens on it?’

‘I didn’t mean to upset you, Vernon.’

‘Then leave me alone.’

‘There’s no need to speak so harshly,’ she said, hand on his shoulder. ‘I can see that you’re upset – we all are. Rhoda was a good friend to me. I’ll always remember that. This is a time when we should all pull together for her sake.’ She flashed her gap-toothed smile at him. ‘Are you hungry?’

‘No, I’m not.’

‘Would you like me to bring something up to your room?’

‘Stay away from me, Win.’

‘It’s no trouble.’

‘Stay away,’ he repeated, moving her hand from his shoulder. ‘I need to be alone. I’m not hungry and I don’t need company. All I want is peace and quiet.’ He glared at her. ‘Is that too much to ask?’

Climbing up the stairs, he left her with his rhetorical question hanging in the air. Win was not disturbed by his abrupt manner. He was in mourning for Rhoda Wills. Allowances had to be made for that. Tolley would come round in time. All that Win had to do was to be patient and to wait. When she went back to the kitchen, she wore a smile.

‘When did this come?’

‘It was early in the afternoon.’

‘Who delivered it?’

‘A boy, apparently – he tossed it into the porch and made off.’

‘Did nobody go after him?’ asked Tunnadine, angrily.

‘It would have been a waste of time, sir,’ said Colbeck.

‘What makes you say that?’

‘The boy is not an accomplice. He’s probably just some local lad who was offered a few pence to deliver the ransom note to Burnhope Manor. The kidnapper would never have dared to do it himself. He needed an intermediary.’

‘The inspector is right,’ confirmed Tallis. ‘Forget the boy.’

‘But he might have been able to describe the man who employed him to run the errand,’ contended Tunnadine. ‘He should have been stopped.’

‘Nobody knew what he’d just delivered,’ explained Colbeck. ‘They had no reason to stop him. It might just have been a note from one of the tenant farmers.’

‘If that boy
is
the son of one of my tenants,’ said Sir Marcus, grinding his teeth, ‘I’ll have the whole family turned out.’

‘That would be cruel and undeserved. Blame the man who sent the message and not the messenger himself. The important point is that your daughter and her maid are being held against their will. We have to rescue them.’

‘And kill those responsible!’ said Tunnadine, vengefully.

When he’d returned to his home after his visit to Lucinda Graham, he found Sir Marcus’s letter waiting for him. It threw him into a rage and sent him hastening to the club in Pall Mall. Sir Marcus was still in the private room with the two detectives. After being shown the ransom demand, Tunnadine was pulsing with fury. He turned on the superintendent.

‘I told you before,’ he snarled, ‘we need more men deployed.’

‘What good would that do?’ asked Tallis.

‘We could surround the area where the money is supposed to be handed over and catch this rogue.’

‘With respect, Mr Tunnadine, that would be a foolish thing to attempt.’

‘A show of force is required.’

‘That’s the last thing we must resort to, sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘We will be seen coming. The moment any of the conditions set down in the demand are not met, you may wave farewell to your bride. We are dealing with a ruthless man. If the two ladies do not bring in the reward he seeks, he’ll have no compunction in killing them.’

‘Are you able to read his mind, then?’ sneered Tunnadine.

‘He has not gone to such trouble in order to walk away empty-handed. If his captors can be exchanged for money,’ said Colbeck, ‘they have value. If we fail to cooperate, they will become a burden to him.’

‘We follow
your
advice, Inspector,’ decreed Sir Marcus.

‘It’s what I would have advised,’ said Tallis.

‘Well, I still think that you’re wrong to give in to him like this,’ said Tunnadine. ‘Think before you act, Sir Marcus. Do you really want to hand over all that money to this despicable villain?’

‘Of course I do not,’ barked Sir Marcus, ‘but the inspector assures me that there’s a good chance that we may retrieve it once Imogen and her maid are safe.’

‘I don’t share your confidence in Inspector Colbeck. All that he has done so far is to “harvest information” and it has got him nowhere.’

‘On the contrary,’ said Colbeck, ‘it was because I took the trouble to gather all the facts before reaching
a conclusion, that I was able to dismiss your ludicrous notion that this was a jape invented by George Vaughan. It may interest you to know that Sergeant Leeming has spoken to the young artist and repeated the accusation to him. George Vaughan felt that your claim was nothing short of slanderous.’

‘My nephew would never dare to harm his cousin,’ said Sir Marcus.

‘It was a natural mistake,’ argued Tunnadine, trying to shrug it off.

‘You are rather prone to making natural mistakes, sir,’ said Colbeck.

‘I’ll take no lectures from you, Inspector.’

‘I was not aware that I was giving you any.’

‘Let’s get back to the ransom demand,’ suggested Tallis, conscious that he’d lost control of the discussion. ‘We’ve agreed that the sensible course of action is to obey the kidnapper’s demands and to hand the money over, once we’ve established that the two ladies have been released. Inspector Colbeck will act on behalf of Sir Marcus and actually meet the kidnapper face to face.’

‘Why can’t I do that?’ said Tunnadine, tapping his chest.

‘It’s because you are too hot-headed, sir.’

‘I have a right to take on the role – Colbeck does not. We’re talking about my future wife. Who could have a better claim than her future husband?’

‘Listen to the superintendent, Clive,’ said Sir Marcus. You are not experienced in these matters. A trained detective is. The inspector has spent years dealing with desperate criminals. He will be cool and objective. Your impulsiveness could ruin everything.’

Tunnadine was shocked. ‘You wish to hand over this task to a complete stranger, Sir Marcus?’

‘Colbeck is the best man in a situation like this,’ said Tallis.

‘I dispute that, Superintendent.’

‘He’s highly experienced.’

‘I still believe that I have a prior claim,’ insisted Tunnadine.

‘The decision lies with me,’ declared Sir Marcus. ‘If I have to choose someone to impersonate me, then I elect the inspector to go in my stead. Superintendent Tallis is too old and you are too excitable. Let’s hear no more on the subject,’ he went on, stifling Tunnadine’s protest with a gesture. ‘The matter is closed.’

Colbeck took note of Tunnadine’s reaction. Silenced by Sir Marcus, the politician was burning with resentment and smarting from the rebuff. He was not accustomed to having his wishes overridden. Since he’d been quashed in front of the two detectives, he was even more livid. After bidding a token farewell, he marched out of the room with a face like thunder.

Tunnadine was a problem.

Dolly Wrenson was in a peevish mood. She stared sullenly at the nude portrait of her.

‘What about my missing arm?’ she asked.

‘It will have to wait, alas.’

‘You can’t just walk away and leave me like that.’

‘I’m needed elsewhere, Dolly,’ said George Vaughan. ‘Besides, you shouldn’t really have seen the portrait before it’s completed. I always think it bad luck if a model views a painting too soon in the creative process.’

‘I look ridiculous without an arm.’

‘Think how many Greek and Roman statues lack a limb of one kind or another. It adds character. In some cases, they don’t even have a head.’

‘I’m not a statue, George,’ she said, fiercely. ‘I’m a real woman and I want to be
finished
.’

‘And so you shall be – when I return from Oxford.’

‘But you said you never wanted to go there again.’

‘That was before I heard about Imogen’s disappearance.’

‘Oh, it’s
her
, is it?’ she said, jealously. ‘It’s that precious cousin of yours. Because she’s more important than me, I’m left in London with a missing arm.’

‘Don’t be absurd.’

‘You love her more than you love me. That’s what it amounts to, isn’t it?’

‘I love her as a cousin. When she’s in danger, I’m bound to worry about Imogen.’ He glanced across at the bed. ‘I love you in a very different way.’

It was not long after dawn and they were in his studio at the top of the house in Chelsea. After a restive night thinking about Imogen, he’d felt the urge to go back to his family. Having left under a cloud, he was not sure what kind of reception he’d get but nevertheless felt impelled to return to Oxford. Dolly looked upon the decision as a betrayal.

‘You said that I’d taught you the meaning of freedom,’ she recalled.

‘And I’m eternally grateful to you, Dolly.’

‘So why are you putting
her
before me?’

‘That’s not what I’m doing. In most things, you’ll always come first.’

‘Prove it,’ she challenged.

‘What do you mean?’

‘If you really love me, take me to Oxford with you.’

‘I can’t do that,’ he spluttered.

‘Exactly – you’re ashamed of me, George Vaughan.’

‘I’m prouder of you than of anyone else in my life. You’ve changed the way I look at the world, Dolly. Nobody else could have done that. Living and working with you has made me feel that I’m in paradise.’

‘Then stay here and give me a second arm.’ She moved in close to embrace him. ‘I’ll be
extremely
grateful,’ she purred. ‘You’ve no idea what treats I’d have in store for you. Why bother about your old life? Put it behind you for good.’ She caressed his hair. ‘Come to bed with me and talk it over.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, tempted by her blandishments but easing her gently away. ‘This is something that I have to do. I’m not leaving you, Dolly. I’ll be back before you know that I’ve gone.’

‘And will you tell your family about me?’

‘I … might do so.’

‘Will you say that I mean far more to you than your cousin?’

‘No – I’m simply going there to offer support in a fraught situation.’

‘In other words,’ she said, astringently, ‘Dolly Wrenson won’t even deserve a mention. She’ll cease to exist because she’ll be an embarrassment to you. Real freedom consists in being true to yourself, George. It’s showing the whole world what you believe in and care about. You can’t be a devil-may-care artist in Chelsea and a dutiful son in Oxford at one and the same time. You can’t live in sin and pretend to lead a virginal existence. It’s sheer hypocrisy.’

‘That’s enough!’ he yelled, banging the table. ‘There’s a crisis in my family and my place is with them. If you can’t appreciate that, then you’ve lowered yourself in my esteem. You must stop being so infernally selfish, Dolly. Someone else’s need is greater than yours. For heaven’s sake, learn to accept that.’ He picked up a battered valise
and headed for the door. ‘We’ll discuss this in full when I get back.

Dolly folded her arms. ‘How do you know that I’ll still be here?’

At a time when his thoughts were concentrated solely on his daughter’s safety, what Sir Marcus Burnhope needed least was an attack by his sister-in-law. He’d returned home too late for her to ambush him that night so she bided her time and waited until he descended for breakfast. Before he could even enter the dining room, Cassandra Vaughan popped out from behind a suit of armour in the hall to accost him.

‘What’s going on, Marcus?’ she asked.

‘I’m having an early breakfast,’ he replied, astonished to see her. ‘What are you doing here, Cassandra?’

‘I came to look after my sister and to find out the facts. Paulina is in low spirits as it is. Why make her condition worse by concealing the truth from her? Do you wish your wife to expire from neglect and anxiety?’

‘Paulina has not been neglected. The doctor calls every day. As for her anxiety, I share it. I wish I was in a position to alleviate it.’

‘Something is afoot,’ said Cassandra, suspiciously. ‘I know it.’

‘Then you know more than I do.’

‘Why is that disagreeable Mr Tunnadine staying under our roof? I was asleep when you finally returned last night but his booming voice woke me up. I could hear him stamping around down here in the hall.’

‘Clive is here as our guest,’ said Sir Marcus, wanting to
divulge as little as possible. ‘He is, after all, an interested party.’

‘What about Imogen’s mother? Is not she an interested party? As for her aunt, I am
very
interested and I won’t leave your side until you let me in to whatever secret you’re hiding. Come on, Marcus. We are adults. Tell us the truth.’

When he’d first met her, Sir Marcus had been fond of Cassandra because she was unfailingly pleasant and comparatively subdued. The emergence of a new sister-in-law, strong-willed and outspoken, had dulled his affection and he’d tried to avoid her on social occasions. He was now in a quandary. Cassandra was too intelligent to be fobbed off with a paltry excuse. As long as she was in the house, she’d stick to him like a burr. If he told her the full truth, on the other hand, the information would be passed on to his wife and he believed that it would cause her even greater alarm than if she were left in ignorance. Uncertain as to what he should do, he opted for a compromise, deciding to release crucial facts while holding back others.

‘All that I can tell you is this—’ he began.

‘I want the truth,’ she warned, ‘with no prevarication.’

‘Imogen and her maid are alive.’

‘Thank God for that!’

‘Of her whereabouts, however, we have no details.’

‘Then how can you say that they’re still alive?’

‘I’ve told you all I can, Cassandra,’ he lied.

‘Have they been kidnapped? Are they being held against their will?’

‘You know as much as I do.’

‘Someone has been in touch with you, haven’t they?’

‘When I learn more,’ he said, trying to mollify her with a
smile, ‘I’ll be sure to pass on the news to you and to Paulina.’ He moved away. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to have some breakfast.’

‘You’re not getting away as easily as that, Marcus,’ she said, tugging at his sleeve. ‘I feel as if I’m only hearing a portion of the truth. Is there nothing you can tell me that will help to revive Paulina?’

‘There’s nothing.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘That’s your prerogative,’ he retorted. ‘I’m sorry that our late arrival disturbed you. Since you must be very tired, I suggest that you get some sleep now instead of hounding me like this. I’m hungry,’ he went on, detaching her hand from his sleeve. ‘Good day to you, Cassandra.’

Before she could stop him, he went into the dining room and closed the door behind him with such finality that even she did not dare to go in pursuit. She’d learnt something of moment. It would have to suffice her for a while.

A welcome night at home had not only cheered Colbeck, it had given him the opportunity to share more details of the case with his wife. Madeleine was no silent helpmeet who simply ran the household in his absence. She was an intelligent woman who’d been involved in the investigative process a number of times. Edward Tallis would have been beside himself if he’d known how many of Colbeck’s successes had owed something to the enterprise of his wife. But there was another reason why her husband had consulted her. Madeleine had experience of being abducted. Had she not been rescued by Colbeck from the ship on which she was being held, she would have been taken abroad by two
strangers, one of whom had already molested her. It had left an indelible mark on her.

As she helped Colbeck on with his frock coat, she relived the memories.

‘What frightened me most,’ she said, ‘was being completely unaware of what was really going on. And I hated being locked up like a criminal.’

‘I’m sorry that you had to go through that ordeal, Madeleine.’

‘I survived.’

‘It still gives me pangs of guilt,’ he said. ‘You were kidnapped because of me. When I was on their tail, they needed a hostage and they chose you. I dread to think what might have happened if we hadn’t intercepted you in Bristol.’

‘I often have shivers about that, Robert,’ she admitted. ‘The worst moment was when one of them cornered me in a wine cellar and tried to take advantage of me. I managed to smash a wine bottle over his head but, if his friend had not interrupted us, God knows what would have happened to me.’ She brightened. ‘But there was one consolation.’

‘What was that?’

‘He told me that I’d been abducted because you were my “ardent admirer”. You’ve no idea how much that phrase rallied me.’

‘I was and still am your ardent admirer, Madeleine,’ he said, gallantly. ‘But you were snatched from your house as a means of keeping me at bay. Sir Marcus’s daughter and her maid are being held for ransom.’

‘They’ll still feel as I did – trapped, helpless and terrified. The one advantage is that there are two of them. They’ll
be able to draw comfort from each other. I was alone and defenceless.’

He grinned. ‘Not entirely defenceless,’ he observed. ‘You excelled yourself with a bottle of wine in your hands.’ He became serious. ‘There’s another aspect to this case, however. I’m still convinced that the two of them cooperated in a scheme to disappear. That being the case, they may be totally oblivious to the fact that they are victims of kidnappers. Instead of being in a state of terror, they may believe that the fulsome promises made to them will be honoured.’

‘What will happen if the ransom is not paid?’

‘I’ve no doubt that the threat made against them will be carried out.’

‘So they could be ignorant of the fact that their lives are in danger?’

‘It’s a possibility that I’ve chosen not to share with Sir Marcus. He would never accept that his daughter would actually run away from home.’ He took out his pocket watch and glanced at it. ‘I must rush. Victor and I have a train to catch.’

Transport once again brought misery into Leeming’s life. He loathed trains and hated voyages at sea even more. Both had prominence in his nightmares. On balance, however, neither provoked the immediate sense of danger that riding a horse did. As he hauled himself up into the saddle outside Burnhope Manor, he felt as if he was risking life and limb. His mount was far too frisky and bucked mutinously. He and the animal could never be described as sharing a marriage of true minds. In fact, it was clear that the horse – a bay mare, skittish by nature –
had a mind of her own and she’d taken a particular dislike to her rider. Even before they were in motion, Leeming was dividing his time between hanging on for dear life and fervent prayer.

It was afternoon and Vernon Tolley had harnessed the horses and put them between the shafts. Sir Marcus had already climbed into the landau with Clive Tunnadine and Edward Tallis. Though they said nothing to the coachman, their very presence helped to instil hope in Tolley. He believed that they would not all be there unless they were going to retrieve the missing women. His earlier pessimism waned. Rhoda Wills was still alive. It sent the blood coursing through his veins.

While Leeming was still trying in vain to control his mount, Colbeck strolled across to him. The inspector had used cosmetics to put dark shadows under his eyes and he’d added a silver moustache to his face.

‘What do you think, Victor?’ he asked. ‘Do I look old enough?’

‘You’re not as old as I feel, sir. Sitting up here has added years to my age. This horse is determined to kill me one way or another.’

Colbeck was amused. ‘Show her that you’re the master.’

‘But I’m not – she’s in charge.’ The horse bucked violently and he was almost thrown from the saddle. ‘Do you see what I mean? I’d much rather walk than ride. Why can’t I go in the carriage?’

‘There’s no room, I’m afraid.’

‘There would be if we changed places. You’re an experienced horseman.’

‘I’m also the owner of Burnhope Manor,’ teased Colbeck.
‘You can’t expect a man of my age and distinction to forego the comfort of a carriage.’

‘What if I get thrown off?’ wailed Leeming.

‘You simply get back on again, Victor.’

Crossing to the landau, Colbeck clambered into it and sat beside Tallis. He would have been far happier not to have the superintendent there but had no choice in the matter. Tunnadine was grim and patently aggrieved. Sir Marcus was hunched in his seat, clutching a leather bag protectively in his lap. His curt command made the coachman crack his whip and the horses set off. Leeming followed the carriage on his prancing bay mare. The journey only lasted a couple of miles. Colbeck had some idea of what to expect because he’d studied the ordnance survey map of the area. The site had been well chosen. The kidnapper had insisted that Sir Marcus came alone with the specified amount of money in a bag. When it was counted and deemed correct, his daughter and her maid would be released. The actual point of exchange was at the base of a hill. To reach it, Colbeck – in the guise of the older man – would have to walk two hundred yards or more across a field.