When the detectives eventually reached the stables, Alfred Stenton was still shuttling between blind rage and deep sadness. Robert Colbeck introduced his sergeant but the trainer was too preoccupied even to shake hands with Victor Leeming. The death of his dog had shaken him badly and left him lusting for vengeance.
'They poisoned Sidney,' said Stenton, grief-stricken. 'I've had him for years. He's been our mascot here at the stables.'
'What exactly happened?' asked Colbeck. 'All that the message told us was that an attempt had been made to kill Merry Legs.'
'A failed attempt,' added Leeming.
'We'd appreciate more details, Mr Stenton.'
The trainer nodded. It was Hamilton Fido who had reported the crime and the detectives had set out immediately for the stables. Only two days after he had tried to arrest the bookmaker, Colbeck had now been summoned to help him. Breaking the law when it suited him, Fido was obviously not slow to call in those who enforced it when he felt the need to do so. Stenton escorted his visitors to the stall where his dog had perished and indicated the pail of water.
'Sidney must have drunk from that,' he said. 'He shouldn't even have been in here but somebody left the door open and in he came. One of the grooms found him dead in the straw.'
Colbeck bent beside the pail. 'I take it that this stall was occupied by Merry Legs?'
'Until this morning – I've had her moved.'
'I'm glad you didn't throw the water away, Mr Stenton. We'll take a sample with us so that it can be analysed.' He stood up. 'I'll leave that to you, Victor.'
'Yes, Inspector,' said Leeming, producing a small bottle from his pocket and dipping it in the water. 'I'm sorry about your dog, sir, but at least it wasn't Merry Legs.'
'I'll kill the man who did this!' vowed Stenton.
'He'll have to face proper judicial process,' said Colbeck. 'First of all, of course, we have to catch him. He's clearly someone familiar with your stables or he wouldn't have known in which stall to poison the water. And he's obviously aware of your daily routine. He struck when the yard was virtually deserted.'
'There were a couple of lads about.'
'Did they see anything unusual?'
'Nothing,' said Stenton. 'My first thought was that one of them had been responsible and I put the fear of death into them. I'm sure they were both innocent. They were as upset about Sidney as me.'
'What did you do next, sir?'
'I sent word to Mr Fido then I spoke to every single person here, one by one. We've already had one spy at the stables and I wanted to make certain that we didn't have another. I really interrogated them, Inspector.'
'I can well imagine.'
'So I know that none of them was involved.'
'What about John Feeny?' asked Leeming, slipping the bottle and its contents into his pocket. 'Perhaps he was linked to this in some way. We know that a man arranged a secret meeting with him. He could have got details about the running of the stables out of the lad before he killed him.'
Stenton frowned. 'What's this about a secret meeting?'
'It's something I discovered from the barmaid at the Shepherd and Shepherdess,' explained Colbeck. 'She and Feeny were close friends, it seems. He told her about a man who demanded information about Limerick Lad. Feeny had to comply. The man threatened to reveal that he had once worked for Brian Dowd and get him sacked.'
'Sacked!' exclaimed the trainer. 'Torn limb from limb, you mean!'
'Don't speak ill of the dead, sir.'
'Feeny got what he deserved.'
'I'm sorry that you can mourn a dog and find no sympathy for a human being who was brutally murdered,' said Colbeck, shooting him an admonitory look. 'The sergeant makes a valid point, however. Before he was killed, John Feeny might well have had everything he knew about your stables wrung out of him. Though, from what I've heard about Feeny, he would never have given that information freely.'
'All I'm worried about now is Merry Legs,' said Stenton.
'Understandably.'
'I'm having her watched night and day and I'm supervising her food and water myself.'
'A sensible precaution,' said Colbeck. 'What troubles me are the lengths to which someone is prepared to go. Why use poison when something less lethal could have been put in that water? Why try to kill Merry Legs when you could keep her out of the race simply by giving her some kind of abdominal disorder?'
'That's what I was thinking, Inspector,' said Leeming. 'Whoever he is, this man does not believe in half-measures.'
'Arrest the person who set him on to do this,' urged Stenton.
'We would if we knew who he was, sir.'
'Brian Dowd is behind this. Find him before I do.'
'Do you have any proof that Mr Dowd is implicated?' said Colbeck calmly. 'If so, we'd be very glad to see it.'
'It has to be him, Inspector.'
'I'd doubt that, sir. Victor and I have both met the gentleman and one thing was clear to both of us. Mr Dowd loves racehorses. I can't believe that he would deliberately harm one of them, whatever his feelings about its owner.'
'I agree,' said Leeming. 'I saw Mr Dowd at his stables. He lives and breathes racehorses. Why should he pay someone to attack Merry Legs when he's so convinced that Limerick Lad can beat her easily in the Derby?'
'If you two don't tackle him,' warned Stenton, 'then I will.'
'You'd never get close to him, sir. He has a bodyguard called Seamus who carries a loaded shotgun. I don't think he'd need much excuse to use it.'
'Besides,' said Colbeck, 'we don't want you trying to do our job for us, Mr Stenton. We'll be speaking to Brian Dowd very soon.'
'Make sure that you do.'
'Before that, I'd like to talk to the groom who actually found your dog in here. With your permission, Victor and I will then take a look around to see if we can find the most likely place of access for any intruder.'
'When you've done that, put the handcuffs on Brian Dowd.'
'He'll have to wait his turn in the queue, sir,' said Colbeck. 'It was Mr Fido who called on us and I feel duty bound to report to him. No need to ask where he'll be at this moment.'
'No, Inspector,' said Stenton. 'He's at Epsom.'
Derby Week was a gambling extravaganza. Betting was brisk on all the races on the various cards but it was the Derby itself that commanded most attention. Sums ranging from the spectacular to the paltry had already been waged though wiser heads were reserving their options by delaying any decision until much nearer the event. Caught up in the frenzy of betting, Hamilton Fido was working at full tilt all morning and only allowed himself a small break for luncheon. He was annoyed to see Marcus Johnson heading in his direction.
'Stop right there!' he ordered, holding up a palm. 'I've told you a hundred times, Marcus. I'm not giving you any advice.'
'You don't need to, Hamilton. I've got some for you.'
'Oh?'
'This is personal,' said Johnson.
'How personal?'
'It concerns Kitty. We need to talk in private.'
'What's going on?'
'I can't tell you here.'
Fido got up from his chair and the two men left the refreshment room. They found a quiet corner behind the grandstand. Johnson's face was grim. His normal ebullience had deserted him.
'Before we go any further,' he said, 'I must tell you that Kitty doesn't know I'm here. In fact, she begged me not to talk to you.'
'Why not?'
'You'll soon understand why.'
'Is she in trouble of some kind?' asked Fido.
'A small problem has arisen, Hamilton.'
'Problem?'
'It goes by the name of Lord Hendry,' said Johnson. 'I'm sure that you're aware he once took an interest in Kitty.'
'In my eyes,' said the other, 'it added to her attraction – not that she needed any additional appeal, mark you. I rather relished the idea of snatching her away from Lord Hendry. I can't wait to dangle Kitty in front of him. It will be the first of two humiliations for the old goat.'
'What's the other one?'
'Having to watch Odysseus being beaten by Merry Legs.'
'Any other time,' said Johnson with a half-smile, 'I'd seize on that as reliable advice about where to place my bets. As it is, Kitty's welfare comes first.'
'Why – what's happened to her?'
Johnson told him about his visit to the house the previous day and how he had sensed that his half-sister was trying to hide something from him. Once he had forced the truth out of her, she had gone on to explain the circumstances of the assault in more detail. He passed them on to Hamilton Fido. Simmering with fury throughout, the bookmaker at last erupted.
'He actually struck Kitty?' he said in horror.
'Across the side of her head with his cane,' replied Johnson.
'The bastard!'
'He went there to bully her into going to the police and ended up attacking her. Apparently, it was the mention of your name that really set him off. Lord Hendry went berserk.'
'I'll go berserk when I catch up with him,' growled Fido.
'My first instinct was to charge off to confront him but I thought that you ought to know what was going on.'
'Thank you, Marcus – I'm very grateful.'
'Lord Hendry's assault was utterly unforgivable.'
'Cruel, undeserved and unbecoming a gentleman.'
'Kitty said that the pain was excruciating.'
'The old fool will pay for this!' said Fido.
'There's only one thing to decide,' said Johnson solemnly.
'Is there?'
'Who challenges him to a duel first – you or me?'
Brian Dowd had brought a number of horses from Ireland with him and he had moved all of them to the racecourse over the weekend. Robert Colbeck and Victor Leeming found him at the stables allocated to him. He gave them a cheery welcome.
'The two of you have come this time, have you?' he said.
'I didn't want to get shot at by Seamus,' joked Leeming, 'so I made the inspector come with me in order to draw his fire.'
'Oh, Seamus won't bother you.'
'It looks as if you got here safely, Mr Dowd,' said Colbeck.
'Yes, the journey was entirely without incident, I'm glad to say. Limerick Lad and the rest of my horses are all safely locked up.'
'You might consider looking to your own safety, sir.'
'Why is that, Inspector?'
'Because you may get an unwelcome visitor,' said Colbeck. 'When we left Alfred Stenton a while ago, he was breathing fire through his nostrils.'
Dowd cackled. 'That's nothing new for Alfred!'
'He blames you for what happened at his stables.'
Colbeck went on to tell him about the poisoned water that killed Sidney and how the trainer had immediately identified Dowd as the likely culprit. The Irishman was offended.
'Accuse me, did he?' he said indignantly. 'I haven't been anywhere near his stables and I certainly didn't try to get his horse poisoned. Jesus – that's a terrible crime, to be sure! Horses are wonderful animals. I'd never let one of them suffer like that.'
'That's what we told Mr Stenton, sir.'
'Alfred wants to watch that loud mouth of his.'
'You and he have often tussled in the past, I believe.'
'I've taken on every trainer in England,' boasted Dowd, 'and, as often as not, I've put them to shame. When he was a two-year-old, Limerick Lad won the Champagne Stakes at Doncaster. Merry Legs, trained by Alfred Stenton, came in fourth. My horse went on to win the Criterion Stakes at Newmarket and Merry Legs was three lengths behind him. That's why he's throwing these foul accusations at me, Inspector. It's pure spite.'
'He still reckons that his filly will win the Derby,' said Leeming.
'You need three things to do that, Sergeant – the best horse, the best jockey and the best trainer. I have the first two of those things and I happen to be the third.'
'Thing could still go wrong, sir.'
'Yes,' said Colbeck. 'I watched the Derby one year and a horse ran amok at the start, unsaddling his jockey and causing mayhem among the other runners.'
'Tim Maguire knows how to keep Limerick Lad out of trouble.'
'Is there no horse in the field that you fear?'
'None.'
'What about Odysseus?'
'The odds have shortened on the favourite,' said Leeming. 'Lord Hendry is so convinced that he'll win that he's had Odysseus's portrait painted. We saw it hanging on the wall of his library.'
Dowd grinned. 'Then he'll soon have to take it down,' he said. 'As luck happens, I chanced to meet Lord Hendry myself. He's as bad as Alfred Stenton – he accused me of trying to injure his horse. The nerve of it!' he went on. 'I want Odysseus and Merry Legs in this race so that Limerick Lad can show them a clean pair of heels.'
'Have any more approaches been made to your jockey?'
'I'll say they have, Sergeant Leeming. Two ruffians called on Tim the other night to cudgel him out of the race. We saw them off with a shotgun. I keep my leading jockey well guarded.'
'Why didn't you report the attack to us?' asked Colbeck.
'We took care of it ourselves.'
'A serious crime might have been committed. A record should be made of that, Mr Dowd. As soon as there was trouble at Mr Fido's stables, he sent for us at once.'
'I think that's rich,' said Dowd, laughing derisively. 'A black-hearted crook like Hamilton Fido, calling on the police – now I've heard everything!'
'We've just been looking for him but Mr Fido has disappeared for some reason. His assistants are taking bets in his stead. That being the case, we thought we'd talk to you first.'
'Always nice to see the friendly face of the law.'
'There aren't many who think that,' said Leeming.
'Other people don't have clear consciences, Sergeant.'
'Do you, sir?'
'My mind is entirely free of guilt.'
'Really, sir?' said Colbeck. 'Didn't you feel even the tiniest twinge of guilt when you lied to me about John Feeny?'
Dowd stiffened. 'I did nothing of the kind, Inspector.'
'You told me that you'd parted on good terms.'
'That's true. I held no grudges.'
'Then why didn't you give him his full wages? According to you, before he left Dublin, you handed him some extra money to help him on his way.' Colbeck watched him closely. 'Do you remember telling me that, Mr Dowd, or do you think I'm misrepresenting you?'
'That's what I said and that's what I stand by.'
'Feeny left your stables after a violent row with you.'
'A few hot words were exchanged, maybe, but that was all.'
'You held back all of the money you owed him.'
'Who's been telling you all this baloney?' said Dowd truculently, 'That's what it is, Inspector. I was there with the lad so I know what happened. Nobody can gainsay it.'
'One person can,' rejoined Colbeck, 'and that's Feeny himself. He found himself a sweetheart when he was here and told her his story. It was she who wrote those letters to Jerry Doyle. I've spoken to the girl and her version of events is very different to yours.'
'Who is this creature?'
'She's a barmaid at an inn that Feeny frequented.'
'A barmaid!' Dowd was contemptuous. 'You'd take the word of a barmaid against that of someone like me? Thank you very much!' Arms akimbo, he spoke with feeling. 'John Feeny left my stables under a cloud because he made the mistake of answering back to me. I don't allow that in my yard, Inspector. When I told him that he didn't have the talent to become a jockey, he lost his temper and swore at me. I threw him out there and then but had second thoughts later on. I liked the lad and didn't want us to part like that. I made my peace with him and gave him some cash.'
'If he had money in his pocket,' said Colbeck, 'why did he have to stow away on a boat?'
'Because he probably spent what I gave him on drink,' retorted Dowd. 'That's what he'd always done in the past. He had a streak of wildness in him, did John Feeny, or maybe the barmaid forgot to mention that? Good day, gentlemen,' he said pointedly. 'Instead of making false allegations against me, why don't you spend your time hunting for the man who sent me Feeny's head in a hatbox? Then you might actually be doing something useful. Excuse me,' he added, turning on his heel to walk away. 'I have work to do.'
'I think you upset him, sir,' said Leeming.
'I must have caught him on a raw spot.'
'I didn't see any sign of guilt in him.'
'No,' said Colbeck. 'You wouldn't, I'm afraid. Whatever he's done, I don't think that Brian Dowd would have one iota of guilt.'
'Is it something to do with being Irish, sir?'
'No, Victor, it's something to do with being involved in the world of horseracing. It's a hard, cold, strange, unforgiving, venal world that operates by its own peculiar rules. Let's see if we can find another of its denizens,' he suggested. 'The elusive Mr Hamilton Fido.'
Hamilton Fido maintained his surface bonhomie but he was seething inside. After being told about the way that Kitty Lavender had been treated, he was determined to strike back at Lord Hendry. He was glad that Marcus Johnson had informed him about an incident that his half-sister would have tried to conceal out of embarrassment. Fido not only felt an urge to leap to her defence, he realised how fond he had become of her during their short time together.
When they had first met, he had no illusions about the sort of woman that Kitty was and he accepted her on those terms. Their relationship was only the latest in a long series of amours that he had enjoyed over the years and none of them had lasted very long. Kitty Lavender was somehow different to the other women. She had a vivacity and intelligence that set her apart. The news that someone had hit her with his cane had awakened feelings in him that he had not believed were there. He experienced a new intensity. Hamilton Fido was hurt, proprietorial, bent on revenge.
The bookmaker knew where to find Lord Hendry but he did not want to accost him in public. Causing a scene would be foolish and unnecessary. Instead, he bided his time. Lord Hendry was surrounded by acquaintances in the grand salon, discussing the prospects of Odysseus and making predictions about other races during the week. It was over an hour before he broke away and headed for the door. As the older man came through it, Fido was waiting for him in the narrow passageway, blocking his path.
'Out of my way, man!' snapped Lord Hendry.
'I want a word with you first.'
'I've nothing to say to people of your ilk.'
'Oh, I think you do,' said Fido, squaring up to him. 'It concerns a young lady named Kitty Lavender. I believe you paid her a visit recently.'
'Stand aside,' ordered Lord Hendry, 'or I'll report you to the Jockey Club for menacing conduct.'
'It was you who resorted to menacing conduct with Kitty. Is it true that you struck her across the face?'
'That's my affair.'
'And mine,' said Fido, holding his ground. 'I've come to exact retribution on her behalf.'
Lord Hendry sniggered. 'Retribution – for a whore?'
'Show more respect or you'll regret it.'
'It's you who needs to show respect. Do you know who I am?'
'Only too well,' said Fido, looking him up and down. 'I know who you are and what you are, Hendry – a coward, a bully and a damn rogue. You're not fit to be called a gentleman. You're a disgrace to the title you bear and it's high time somebody told you.'
'What happened to Kitty was long overdue.'
'Do you have no remorse at all?'
'None whatsoever,' said the other, roused by the verbal attack on him. 'I'd do exactly the same again. I'd never apologise to her or to you, for that matter. You're two of a pair – loathsome, uneducated creatures who've dragged yourselves up from the gutter and learnt a few airs and graces. You'll never be accepted in society. The stink of inferiority remains on both of you and always will.'
Fido had heard enough. Snatching the older man's cane from him, he used it to knock off his top hat then he prodded him hard in the chest. Lord Hendry was frothing with outrage.
'I'll have the law on you for that!' he cried.
'If we're talking about litigation,' said Fido, tossing the cane aside, 'then Kitty could bring an action against you for assault and battery. But this is a matter that can be settled out of court.'
'What are you talking about?'
'I demand satisfaction,' he went on, waving a fist. 'Meet me at a time of your convenience and have the choice of weapons.'
Lord Hendry gasped. 'You're challenging me to a duel?'
'I want to see if you have the courage to turn up.'
'I'd never lower myself to fight with you.'
'You'll have to – I insist upon it.'
'This is absurd!'
'Select the time and place, Lord Hendry. Remember one thing.'
'What's that?'
'You won't be up against a defenceless young woman this time,' said Fido warningly. 'You'll be facing another man.'
Lord Hendry was dumbstruck. Rooted to the spot, he could not hide the trepidation in his eyes. As he walked away, Hamilton Fido deliberately trod on the top hat as a signal of his future intent. The challenge had been issued. He wanted blood.
Travelling by cab, it had taken Kitty Lavender a long time to reach Epsom because of the huge volume of traffic on the road. She was staying in rooms that had been rented for her by Hamilton Fido and the first thing that she did when she got to the house was to change into her dressing gown and lie down for a rest. After a while, there was a knock on her door. Fearing that it might be Fido, she got up and hurried across to the mirror to adjust her hair so that it covered the bruise on her temple. There was a second knock.
'Just a moment!' she called.
She examined herself in the mirror until she was satisfied that her injury was all but invisible then she opened the door. Instead of the bookmaker, it was Marcus Johnson. Kitty was disappointed.
'Oh!' she sighed. 'It's you.'
'I've had better welcomes than that,' he complained.
'I'm sorry, Marcus – come on in.'
'Thank you.' He entered the room and weighed it up at a glance. 'This is quite luxurious. Hamilton has spared no expense. Prices for accommodation shoot up like rockets in Derby Week so he must love you.' He took off his hat with a flourish and studied her face. 'It hardly shows at all now, Kitty. It's only your heart that's still bruised.'
'I prefer to forget that it ever happened,' she said.
'Well, I don't – and neither does Hamilton.'
Kitty tensed. 'You've told him?'
'I felt obliged to do so,' he replied. 'If someone had assaulted a woman I adored, then I'd want to know about it.'
'But I told you to keep it from him.'
'That would have been unfair on Hamilton. It would also have let Lord Hendry off the hook and I was not going to allow that.'
'How did he receive the news?'
'With the same horror and disgust that I did.'
'Oh, dear!'
'I mean to confront Lord Hendry myself but I fancy that Hamilton will get there first. He was absolutely furious.'
She was alarmed. 'What's he going to do?'
'I know what he ought to do,' said Johnson savagely, 'and that's to horsewhip him ten times around the Derby course. The very least he'll demand is an apology and some kind of reparation.'
'He won't get a penny from George,' she said. 'Nor an apology.'
'Then the old roue will have to suffer the consequences.'
'Consequences?'
'If I know Hamilton Fido, he'll challenge him to a duel.'
'He mustn't do that, Marcus!' she protested.
'It's a matter of honour.'
'Duelling is illegal. I don't want Hamilton arrested.'
'I'm sure they'll find a venue that's well hidden from the prying eyes of the police. Lord Hendry will be shaking in his shoes.'
'I don't care about him,' said Kitty anxiously. 'It's Hamilton that I fear for. What weapons will they use?'
'Pistols, most probably.'
'Then I must warn him that George was in the army. He knows how to handle guns of all kinds. Shooting is one of his hobbies.'
'Hamilton is much younger than he is,' said Johnson. 'His eyesight is better, his aim straighter and he'll be the first to pull the trigger. Put your money on him.'
'I don't wish to put it on anyone. I want this duel stopped.'
'But he'll be protecting your honour, Kitty.'
'That makes no difference,' she said. 'If he's not killed, Hamilton could be wounded. And if he kills George, then he'll be liable to arrest on a charge of murder. I don't want him hanged.'
'It will never come to that,' he assured her. 'A duel carries its own code. Whatever the outcome, nobody will be reported to the police. Have no qualms about Hamilton. He's perfectly safe.'
'Unless he's shot dead by George.'
'There's no danger of that.'
'But suppose that he was, Marcus,' she said, trying to envisage the situation. 'I'd lose Hamilton and George would get away scot-free.'
'I could never allow that to happen.'
'What do you mean?'
'You're my half-sister, Kitty. We may spend most of our time apart but I'm devoted to you and I'll not have you maltreated by anyone. There's only one course of action for me to follow,' he said, straightening his shoulders. 'If Hamilton Fido doesn't kill that aristocratic bastard – then I will.'
It was not until late afternoon that they ran the bookmaker to ground. They found it difficult to move in the swirling crowds. There were too many distractions. Left to himself, Victor Leeming would have explored the fairground and sampled some of the food and drink that was on sale. He was particularly interested in seeing the tattoed Polynesian lady, a woman of massive proportions, whose nude portrait was painted in lurid colours on a board outside one of the booths. But he and Robert Colbeck were there on duty and there was no time for entertainment. Making their way through the mass of people, they visited the betting office for the third time in a row and found that Hamilton Fido had at last returned.
When he saw the detectives approach, Fido excused himself from the man to whom he was talking and came over to them. Since the crowded room was no place for a private conversation, he led them out of the grandstand altogether and stood in the shadows at the rear.
'You're a difficult man to find,' said Colbeck.
'I've been very busy,' explained Fido.
'We came in response to your message. We spoke to Mr Stenton and he gave us the details of the crime. There's no doubt that an attempt was made on the life of your filly.'
'Someone should swing for this, Inspector.'
'The least he can expect is a very long prison sentence.'
'I want more than that.'
'The law does not exist for the personal gratification of those, like yourself, who've been victims of a particular offence. Punishment is designed to fit the crime.'
'Otherwise,' said Leeming, 'everybody we arrested would be dangling at the end of a rope, however minor his or her offence. The judge is there to impose the appropriate sentence.'
'There's only one thing appropriate for this villain,' said Fido with vehemence, 'and that's a visit to the hangman. Do you know how much Merry Legs cost me? Do you know how much I've invested in training her? Do you realise how much I'd stand to lose if anything untoward happened to her?'
'A lot of money, I suspect, sir.'
'A fortune, Sergeant.'
'That's why we must look at those who'd stand to gain at your expense,' said Colbeck. 'Your trainer had no hesitation in singling out the man who instigated the attempted poisoning – Brian Dowd.'
'That was the first name that popped into my mind.'
'Has Mr Dowd ever done anything like this before?'
'No,' admitted Fido.
'Have you ever known him injure a horse on purpose?'
'I can't say that I do.'
'Then why do you assume that he must be behind this crime?'
'Past experience,' said Fido. 'Every time our horses have been pitted against each other, we've had trouble from Dowd. If he can stoop to putting a spy in my stables, you can see how desperate he is.'
'You're wrong, sir,' Colbeck told him. 'John Feeny was no spy. My belief is that the killer wanted him to act as spy against Brian Dowd. We spoke to Mr Dowd earlier. He's a shrewd man.'
'Shrewd and slimy.'
'There seem to be a lot of slimy individuals on the Turf, sir,' said Leeming. 'Our superintendent holds the view that horseracing is only a polite word for criminal activity.'
'Yes,' said Fido, 'from people like Brian Dowd.'
'Let's put one myth to rest,' said Colbeck, 'because it's patently clouding your judgement. When he worked at your stables, John Feeny developed an attachment to a young lady at a nearby inn. They even talked of marriage. She told me categorically that Feeny left Ireland after an argument with his employer and Mr Dowd now admits as much. Feeny was loyal to your stables, Mr Fido – he told the girl how much he'd love to see Merry Legs win the Derby instead of Limerick Lad.'
'She will win, Inspector.'
Leeming grinned. 'Do I have your word on that, sir?'
'I wouldn't put her in the race if I expected her to lose.'
'That's what you're doing with Princess of Fire.'
'She's only in the Derby for experience. Merry Legs is there to wipe the smiles off the gloating faces of Brian Dowd and Lord Hendry.'
'That's in the lap of the gods at the moment,' said Colbeck. 'With regard to the poisoning of the dog, however, my own theory is that the person responsible is the same man who murdered John Feeny and who may also have tried to eliminate Odysseus from the Derby. Not content with those crimes, he's made two attempts to ensure that Tim Maguire will not ride in Mr Dowd's colours on Wednesday.'
'Catch him before he causes any more damage,' said Fido.
'That's our intention, sir,' Colbeck promised. 'Turning to another but not unconnected matter, we're still waiting for the young lady who owned that hatbox to come forward.'
'I've advised her to do so.'
'She seems disinclined to take your advice, Mr Fido.'
'I can't compel her, Inspector.'
'Perhaps not but you could apply more pressure, I feel. Point out to her that it's in her best interests to assist us. Her hatbox was stolen and used in the course of a heinous crime. Surely she would want the killer to be apprehended.'
'She does – it would relieve her mind greatly.'
'Relieve mine by making her cooperate with the police. If she persists in avoiding us,' said Colbeck, 'we are bound to think that the lady has something she prefers to keep hidden.'
'That's not the case at all.'
'Then use your influence over her, Mr Fido.'
'My hands are rather full at the moment,' said the other. 'This is the most frantic time of the year for me.'
'We're not exactly short of work ourselves, sir,' Leeming put in.
Colbeck smiled wryly. 'That's an understatement, Victor,' he said. 'This year's Derby is keeping us well and truly on our toes. I still have hopes of watching the race itself but I'll not enjoy it if the killer is still at large. He'll be here, Mr Fido, ready to create more chaos for all of us. We need every ounce of help we can get from every available source. Tell that to the young lady,' he ordered. 'Either she comes forward voluntarily or we go looking for her with a warrant.'
The first day of Derby Week had been a sustained ordeal for Lord Hendry. Outwardly, it was a story of gain. He gained respect, flattery and admiration. Everyone he knew sought his advice. All of them congratulated him on the position that Odysseus held in the betting. He should have sailed through the day on recurring waves of affection and goodwill. Inwardly, however, he was contemplating a story of loss. He had failed in his attempt to borrow money from various friends. Pleasant discussions over glasses of champagne had all ended in polite refusal. Even his brother-in-law had turned down his request. As a gambling man, Lord Hendry had endured serious losses in recent months and he needed to recoup them on the Derby but he could only do that if he had enough capital to place on his horse. Everything depended on that one headlong race.
Another loss that troubled him was that of Kitty Lavender. He had been shocked to learn that she had betrayed him by turning to the one man he detested above all others. Lord Hendry's loss was accentuated by Hamilton Fido's gain. It was the bookmaker who would now enjoy her luscious kisses, her soft caresses and all of her unparalleled skills as a lover. Rather than yield her up to Fido, he would have preferred to keep her as his mistress and allow her to be seen with him in public.
Overarching all the other losses was the imminent loss of his life. He was a good shot but, if he fought a duel against a younger man, there was no guarantee that he would come through it alive. Lord Hendry could see only two ways out of his predicament. He could try to appease Kitty by writing her a letter of abject apology, hoping that she would make Fido stay his hand. Or he would have to make sure that the duel never took place by having his opponent disabled beforehand. Of the two possibilities, the second had more attraction. He had never apologised to one of his mistresses and did not wish to set a precedent with Kitty Lavender. Causing pain to a disagreeable bookmaker, on the other hand, would be pleasurable.
Though he wore a benign smile and waved to acquaintances on all sides, he was glad to be leaving Epsom at the end of the day. His carriage was waiting for him and he clambered into it. No sooner had he settled back than a man appeared beside him.
'Lord Hendry?' he enquired.
'I have that honour, sir.'
'It's a dishonourable name, in my opinion,' said Marcus Johnson baldly. 'Titles should be bestowed on those who deserve them and who learn to behave with the dignity commensurate with their station. You are unable to do that.'
'Who the devil are you?' demanded Lord Hendry.
'My name is Marcus Johnson.'
'Then I bid you good day, Mr Johnson.'
'Not so fast,' said Johnson, reaching into the carriage to grab his arm. 'I haven't introduced myself fully yet. I'm surprised that Kitty hasn't mentioned me to you. I'm her half-brother.'
'I don't care who you are – take your hand off me.'
Johnson released him. 'Kitty told me what you did to her.'
'I'm done with the woman. She belongs to my past.'
'You can't shake her off like that, my lord. It's unkind, ungrateful and monstrously unfair. Have you had a visit from Hamilton Fido yet?' Johnson laughed at his startled reaction. 'Yes, I see that you have. As a matter of record, I was the one who told him how you struck Kitty.'
'It was a glancing blow – nothing more.'
'If it were the slightest touch, it would be unpardonable and we both know that it was far more than that. You might have cut her face open or taken her eye out. Did that never occur to you?'
'You heard what I said, Mr Johnson – good day to you.'
'You'll not escape me that easily,' said Johnson, opening the door to jump into the carriage.
'Get out or I'll have you thrown out!'
'I'll leave when I'm ready, Lord Hendry.'
'I'll stand no more of this infernal impudence.'
'What are you going to do?' taunted Johnson, grabbing the cane from the other man. 'Hit me with this?' He snapped the cane across his knee and tossed both pieces onto the ground. 'I just wanted to deliver a message,' he went on, leaning over to whisper in Lord Hendry's ear. 'I know that Hamilton planned to challenge you to a duel. I hope you survive – then I can have the supreme pleasure of shooting you myself.'
It was mid-evening by the time that Robert Colbeck and Victor Leeming returned by train to London. After sending the sergeant home to his family, Colbeck first delivered the bottle of poisoned water to a chemist for analysis then went off to give his report to Edward Tallis. The superintendent was not impressed with what he heard.
'Is there no end to this?' he grumbled. 'One crime follows another in quick succession. As if a murder were not bad enough, we now have to investigate the attempted crippling of one racehorse, the attempted poisoning of another, a plot to suborn a jockey and, since that failed, a plan to beat him with cudgels. What's next, Inspector?'
'The arrest of the culprits, sir.'
'I see no sign of that.'
'We are getting closer all the time,' said Colbeck. 'And I doubt if there'll be any more incidents involving the racehorses. Odysseus, Merry Legs and Limerick Lad are all being guarded with extreme care. Their respective owners will not let any unauthorised person near them. I've deployed some of our men to provide additional protection.'
'I wish the Derby had never been invented!' moaned Tallis.
'Tens of thousands of people would disagree with that sentiment, sir. They'll come from all over the country to see the race and there'll be lots of people from abroad as well.'
'Foreigners and Irish always bring trouble. The government should ban horseracing forthwith and keep out the riffraff from across the water altogether.'
'I don't think you'll find a single Member of Parliament to support that idea,' said Colbeck with amusement. 'Derby Day is a national holiday. Parliament is suspended and many of the people who sit on its benches will be heading for Epsom. It's a wonderful occasion, Superintendent. You'd enjoy it.'
'I never enjoy uncontrolled revelry,' said Tallis with distaste. 'It leads to crime, drunkenness and fornication. It encourages the lower orders to take gross liberties. I'm surprised that someone as fastidious as you takes an interest in such a despicable event.'
'There's nothing deplorable about watching racehorses at full gallop, sir. It's an inspiring sight. My interest in the Derby began some years ago,' explained Colbeck, 'when I was first called to the Bar. You've no idea how much litigation surrounds the race. It may delight the spectators who flock to Epsom but it also enriches the lawyers who are involved in the countless bitter disputes. When the Derby is at hand, passions run high. That's why the courts are always full.'
'Don't talk to me about passions, Inspector. We're the victims of them. Were it not for someone's passion to win the Derby, we wouldn't have this daunting catalogue of crime to deal with.'
'I can't say that I feel daunted, sir.'
'Well, I do.'
'Never a day passes but we gather important information.'
'But look where it comes from,' said Tallis. 'That's what worries me. The most important information to date has come from a clerk at the Wyvern Hotel and a barmaid at some country inn. Neither of them has taken us any closer to apprehending the killer.'
'That's not true,' argued Colbeck. 'Because he was vigilant, Dacre Radley noted that the same young woman stayed at his hotel with both Lord Hendry and Hamilton Fido. That was significant.'
'It might be if you were able to question the woman but you seem unable to do so. Why is that?'
'I'm addressing that problem, sir.'
'Address it more robustly.'
'Yes, Superintendent,' said Colbeck. 'As for the barmaid at the Shepherd and Shepherdess, she supplied us with valuable insights into the character of John Feeny and she may yet do more for us.'
'In what way?'
'You must understand her state of mind. When I told her about Feeny's death, Bonny Rimmer was all but knocked senseless. All of the plans she had made with Feeny disappeared in an instant. It left her hurt, bewildered and consumed by grief. Days later, the girl had still not recovered from the blow. What I learnt from her,' said Colbeck, relaying what Madeleine Andrews had, in fact, discovered, 'was only part of the story. There's more to come. Bonny Rimmer promised to contact me when she could think more clearly. She talked of keepsakes that Feeny had given her, for instance.'
'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?'
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?'