Lord George Hendry was absolutely distraught. Stunned, wounded and hollow-eyed, he sat in his library and stared up at the gilt frame that had once surrounded the portrait of Odysseus. The horse had now bolted. The frame still hung over the marble fireplace but the oil painting had been cut out and removed. He was inconsolable. Lord Hendry was not simply mourning the loss of his colt and of the large amount of money it had cost to immortalise the animal on canvas. To him, the theft was a dreadful omen. Odysseus might not, after all, win the Derby. Its owner was facing ruin.
It was still early morning when Inspector Robert Colbeck arrived at the house in response to the urgent summons. A servant showed him into the library but Lord Hendry did not even notice him at first. Colbeck had to clear his throat to gain his attention.
'Good morning, my lord,' he said.
The other looked up. 'Ah, you're here,' he said dully.
'When I heard the news, I came as quickly as I could.' Colbeck glanced at the empty frame. 'I can see why you're so distressed.'
'Distressed?' Lord Hendry gave a mirthless laugh.
'When was the theft discovered?'
'Not long after dawn – one of the servants heard the shutters banging and got up to investigate. He found that someone had broken into the house through the dining-room window.'
'I'll need to see the exact spot.'
'The alarm was raised and I came downstairs to face this catastrophe,' said Lord Hendry, rising from his chair to point at the gilt frame. 'Odysseus has been stolen.'
'Was anything else taken?'
'Isn't this bad enough, man!'
'Yes, yes,' said Colbeck, 'of course, it is, Lord Hendry. But I want to establish if the thief came for the sole purpose of stealing the painting or if it was only one of many items that went missing.'
'Nothing else was taken, Inspector. He was after my horse.'
'You have my sympathy – it was a magnificent painting.'
'Odysseus is a magnificent colt,' asserted Lord Hendry. 'That's something my wife has never been able to appreciate, I fear. When she saw what had happened, she was more concerned about the muddy footprints left on the carpets than about the theft.'
'They could help us,' said Colbeck, noting the clear footprints that led to and from the fireplace. 'From the size of his boots and the length of his stride, I can see that we're looking for a tall man with large feet. There'll be more footprints in the mud outside to show from which direction he approached the house and where he left it.'
'What use is that? It won't bring my painting back.'
'Oh, I think it will be returned eventually.'
'Balderdash! It's already been destroyed.'
'I disagree, Lord Henry. If the thief were intent on destruction, then he'd simply have slashed the canvas to shreds. Instead of that, judging by the way it's been cut out, he's removed it with great care.'
'What does that tell you?'
'That you may well be offered the portrait back,' said Colbeck. 'At a high price, naturally.'
Lord Hendry shuddered. 'I can't afford to pay for it twice.'
'You can if Odysseus wins the Derby.'
'Yes,' said the other, rallying slightly. 'I can, Inspector. I can pay for anything then. The horse will get that painting back for me.'
'God willing!'
'I don't have to call on the Almighty. I rely entirely on form. Odysseus has been consistently faster than his nearest rivals. Over the same distance, he was even fleeter of foot than last year's Derby winner, West Australian.'
'But not in race conditions,' said Colbeck. 'In the heat of a Derby, form is not the only telling factor.'
'It will be tomorrow,' said Lord Hendry in a conscious effort to raise his own spirits. 'My trainer has never been so positive about a result before and he's handled dozens of three-year-olds.'
'I wish you luck.'
'Thank you.'
'Incidentally,' said Colbeck, 'when I heard about this theft, my immediate concern was for Odysseus himself. I thought that he might be in danger as well. I know that you have him under armed guard, but I dispatched Sergeant Leeming to your stables to verify that there have been no problems during the night.'
'That was considerate.'
'Has your trainer been made aware of what happened here?'
'Not yet,' said Lord Hendry, 'and my instinct is to keep the news from him and from my jockey. They're both very superstitious. They'll interpret the theft in the way I've been doing – as an evil portent.' He was worried. 'I hope your sergeant will not tell them about what occurred here last night.'
'I told him not to, Lord Hendry. His job is simply to check on the safety of Odysseus. When all is said and done, the horse is far more important than the portrait of him.'
'Quite so.'
'Do you have any clue as to the thief's identity?'
'I could hazard a guess at his paymaster.'
'Brian Dowd?'
'Not in this instance, Inspector,' said Lord Hendry thoughtfully. 'He wouldn't even know that I had the painting. Besides, he's never been anywhere near this house. Because Odysseus stands between him and a Derby win, Dowd is much more likely to try to injure the horse himself than steal his portrait. No,' he continued, 'I spy the grasping hand of Hamilton Fido behind this.'
'How would he know that the painting existed?'
'Someone could have told him,' replied the other, thinking of Kitty Lavender. 'Someone in whom I unwisely confided at one time.'
'Are we talking about the young lady at the Wyvern Hotel?'
Lord Hendry glanced anxiously towards the door. 'Keep your voice down, man!' he ordered. 'This is my home.'
'I'm sorry, sir,' said Colbeck, speaking in a whisper. 'But the question cannot be avoided. Is it the lady we've discussed before?'
'Yes, Inspector.'
'You seem to have discovered that she's formed a liaison with Mr Fido. Am I right in thinking that?' Lord Hendry nodded sullenly. 'Could there be an element of spite in this? Given the circumstances, could this person have urged Mr Fido to arrange the theft of the painting out of pure malice?'
'She could and she did, Inspector,' said Lord Hendry, deciding that Kitty wanted her revenge for the blow he had given her. 'That must be what happened. She instigated the whole thing.'
'Then she committed a criminal act,' said Colbeck. 'That being the case, it's even more crucial that I know her name so that I can speak to her as soon as possible. If your supposition about her is correct, it may be a way to retrieve the painting sooner than I thought. Well, Lord Hendry?' he pressed. 'Are you going to tell me who she is?'
Still in her night attire, Kitty Lavender was propped up in bed as she watched Hamilton Fido putting on his frock coat. She was peevish.
'Do you have to leave so early?' she complained.
'Needs must when the devil drives, my darling.'
'Let your assistants do all the work.'
'I like to be at the course first thing to give them instructions,' said Fido, adjusting his coat in the bedroom mirror. 'One of the rules of bookmaking is to be constantly visible. It inspires trust.'
'Come here and inspire me,' she said, patting the bed.
He blew her a kiss. 'I'll have to postpone that delight until this evening, Kitty. I have too many people to see and too many bets to take. I also need to find a moment to go across to the stables to check on Merry Legs. That attempt at poisoning her scared me.'
'Do you still think that Mr Dowd was responsible?'
'I'd put money on it.'
'You'd never do that unless you were very confident.'
'My motto is simple,' he said, coming to sit on the bed. 'I only back certainties – like Kitty Lavender.' She gave a brittle laugh. 'How are you feeling this morning?'
'Pleasantly tired,' she purred.
'Then you can go back to sleep. While you slumber away, I'll be plying my trade at the racecourse and hoping that Inspector Colbeck will be able to find the villain who put that poison in the water.'
'What are the chances of that happening?'
'We shall see. Colbeck is an astute man.'
'Marcus doesn't think so. He said you'd outwit him every time.'
'I'd outwit any policeman, Kitty,' he said cheerily, ' which is why I've never seen the inside of a courtroom. But this crime is something I can't solve on my own. I need an able detective.'
'What sort of person is Inspector Colbeck?' he asked.
'You'd like him – he's a real dandy. He sticks out from every other policeman I've met, whereas his sergeant is more typical of the breed. To be honest,' he went on, 'I enjoyed crossing swords with Colbeck. He's a worthy opponent – unlike Lord Hendry.'
She was uneasy. 'Do you still mean to go ahead with the duel?'
'I can't pull out of it now, Kitty.'
'But you could be putting yourself in jeopardy.'
'He'd never get the better of me with a pistol.'
'If he believes that, George will look for a way to ensure that the duel never takes place.'
'You mean that he'll go into hiding somewhere?'
'No,' she said, stroking his arm. 'George won't run away – that would look bad. He's more likely to hire some ruffians to break a few of your bones so that you're frightened off.'
Fido laughed. 'He'll need a whole army to get close to me,' he boasted, tapping the bulge at his waist. 'Apart from the fact that I carry a loaded weapon, I have a bodyguard watching my back. The moment I leave here, I'm under his protection.'
'That won't stop me worrying.'
'Lord Hendry deserves a bullet between his eyes.'
'I want you to stay alive in order to put it there.'
'One of us will finish him off,' he said with conviction. 'If some mishap should befall me, Marcus will take my place. From what you've told me about him, he's an excellent shot.'
'He is,' said Kitty. 'Gambling is his first love but, when he takes time off from that, it's to join a shooting party somewhere. Though he's desperately short of money most of the time, he somehow manages to maintain a very comfortable existence. He trades on his charm and lives off his wealthy friends.'
'He's a silver-tongued social parasite and I admire him for that. It takes skill and daring to do what he does. I was also touched by the way he came to your defence.'
'I just wish that he hadn't told you about it.'
'Somebody must call Lord Hendry to account.'
'I'd rather it wasn't you, Hamilton. I know the way that George's mind works. If the duel did actually take place,' she warned, 'he'd be ready to fall back on unfair means.'
Fido grinned. 'That makes two of us – so will I.' Holding her by the chin, he gave her a gentle kiss then stood up. 'When are you going to speak to Inspector Colbeck?'
'Never – if I can help it.'
'He won't give up, Kitty. The longer you keep dodging him, the meaner he'll be when he finally does catch up with you. It's only a matter of time before he does that,' he pointed out. 'As soon as he sees us together, he'll know that you're the lady from the Wyvern Hotel.'
'There's no reason why he should see us together – not alone, anyway. I've got myself another beau to hide behind.'
'Oh – and who might that be?'
'Marcus, of course,' she said. 'He told me to avoid the police at all costs or my name might finish up in the newspapers. I don't want to become a public spectacle, Hamilton.'
'I rather hoped that you did – on my arm.'
'When I've shaken off Inspector Colbeck, there's nowhere I'd rather be. Above all else, I want George to see us together. After what he did to me, I want him to writhe in pain.'
'He's already been doing that, Kitty,' he said, reaching for his hat. 'My guess is that Lord Hendry didn't get a wink of sleep last night. He'd have been tortured by the thought of fighting a duel against me. He knows how that will end. And if he was kept awake, he'll have heard the sound of the downpour we had. It rained hard for hours and hours. That means the going will be soft at the racecourse and that won't suit Odysseus at all.' He put his hat on at a rakish angle. 'One way or another,' he said cheerfully, 'Lord Hendry must have had the worst night of his life.'
Victor Leeming was making his way through the crowd when he saw the woman. Short, dainty and with a look of sublime innocence on her face, she was accompanied by a small boy. Speaking to an elderly gentleman who was just descending from his carriage, she asked directions from him. He was happy to oblige. He was entranced by her pretty features and beckoning smile. Victor Leeming was more interested in what the boy was doing. When the directions had been received, the woman thanked her guide and led the boy away. The sergeant moved swiftly to intercept them. Fixing the boy with a knowing look, he held out the palm of his hand.
'Give me the wallet,' he ordered.
'What are you talking about?' demanded the woman haughtily.
'The wallet that he took from that gentleman while you distracted him. This lad is a pickpocket and you're his accomplice.'
'How dare you! I'm David's mother!'
'Then you should be ashamed to bring him up in this way.'
'If you don't leave us alone,' she said, putting a maternal arm around her son, 'I'll call a policeman.'
'You're already talking to one,' said Leeming, enjoying his moment. 'I'm Detective Sergeant Leeming from Scotland Yard.'
He waved a hand to a uniformed policeman who stood a dozen yards away. Recognising him, the man came briskly over to him.
'Good morning, sir,' he said.
'Here's your first arrest of the day, Constable. I caught a pair of pickpockets. The lad has just stolen a wallet from that gentleman standing beside his carriage. Return his property to him,' said Leeming, 'then find out what else these two have purloined.'
The woman and her son made a sudden dash for freedom but the policeman restrained them both. Turning on the sergeant, she unleashed a stream of vile abuse and had to be dragged away. Leeming was about to move off when Brian Dowd came over to him.
'I saw that, Sergeant,' he said with a complimentary smile. 'You did very well. I'd never have known what those two were doing.'
'You didn't spend as many years in uniform as I did, sir. When you get big crowds, the pickpockets come out in their hundreds.'
'That boy could have been no more than six or seven.'
'Children younger than that have been trained to steal,' said Leeming sadly. 'They're corrupted at an early age. I don't blame the lad. It's the mother who should take the punishment.'
'I hope you don't spend all your time looking for pickpockets.'
'By no means, sir.'
'There are more important crimes to solve.'
'Inspector Colbeck and I are well aware of that,' said Leeming, 'and we have our superintendent snapping at our heels to make us find the killer of John Feeny. Our problem is that we keep getting distracted by related crimes.'
'Such as?'
'The attacks on both Odysseus and Merry Legs – someone is determined to keep them out of the Derby.'
'Don't forget what happened to me,' said Dowd. 'Limerick Lad can win the race but I'm honest enough to admit that he might not do it unless he has Tim Maguire on his back. That's why my jockey has been the target, Sergeant. Tim is my guarantee of success.'
'Limerick Lad likes soft going, I'm told.'
'The more rain we have, the better.'
'I hope that it holds off for the race itself.'
'Yes,' said Dowd. 'The world and his wife will be here tomorrow. There's nothing quite like Derby Day. I hope that the sun shines brightly during the races but I'll be praying for more rain tonight.'
'Were you on your way to the grandstand?' asked Leeming, glancing towards it. 'If you are, I'll walk with you, if I may.'
'Please do, Sergeant. I have some friends to meet there.'
Leeming fell in beside him. 'I've arranged to meet Inspector Colbeck,' he said. 'Left to myself, I'd rather see some of the sights. There's a six-legged pig on display and the Smallest Man in England is in one of the booths. Then there's a huge Polynesian woman who has tattoes everywhere. Duty calls, however,' he sighed. 'And the inspector should be back from Lord Hendry's house by now.'
'Oh?' Dowd was curious. 'What was he doing there?'
'We had a report of a crime that took place last night.'
'Indeed?'
'Lord Hendry's painting of Odysseus was stolen,' said Leeming. 'Other things may have been taken as well, for all I know, but it was the loss of the painting that sent the inspector haring over there.'
'I'll be interested to hear what transpired.'
They picked their way through the crowd. Races were not due to begin for a couple of hours yet but Epsom Downs were already submerged beneath a rippling sea of humanity. The noise was deafening and the buzz of excitement was almost tangible. The two men chatted about the races on the day's card and Dowd recommended a bet on one of his own horses, Quicklime, in the last event of the day. As they got near the grandstand, they saw Robert Colbeck waiting at the appointed place. After an exchange of greetings, the inspector looked enquiringly at Leeming. The sergeant shook his head.
'There are no problems at the stables, sir. Odysseus is fine.'
'Thank you, Victor,' said Colbeck.
'What's this about a painting being stolen?' asked Dowd.
'It was taken in the night, sir. Lord Hendry is heartbroken.'
'Don't look to me for sympathy. It was rash of him to have a portrait of his horse painted before the race was even run. That was tempting Fate. But I'm surprised that anyone was out and about last night,' he went on. 'That storm should have kept everyone indoors.'
'Unfortunately,' said Colbeck, 'it kept the dogs indoors or they would have been guarding the house.'
'It's not a disaster,' said Leeming. 'Lord Hendry could always have another portrait painted.'
'Only if Odysseus wins the Derby,' said Dowd waspishly, 'and you'd have a better chance of doing that, Sergeant.'
'Then why is Odysseus still the favourite?'
'Wonders never cease.'
'Limerick Lad has dropped back slightly in the betting.'
'That suits me – we get better odds. But you must congratulate your sergeant,' said Dowd, turning to Colbeck. 'I watched him catch a couple of pickpockets in the crowd just now.'
'Well done, Victor,' said Colbeck. 'You always had sharp eyes.'
Leeming shrugged. 'I just happened to be in the right place, sir.'
'That's an essential part of policing.'
'I hope you're both in the right place when it comes to catching John Feeny's killer,' said Dowd earnestly. 'I want to know who that merciless bastard is.'
'So do the rest of us, sir.'
'Well, I must be off – don't forget what I told you, Sergeant.'
'Quicklime in the last race,' said Leeming.
'Tim Maguire is riding him.'
'Then I'll be sure to put a bet on him. Goodbye, Mr Dowd.' They waved the Irishman off. 'I'm glad I saw him this morning.'
'He was in a better mood than when we last met,' said Colbeck.
'You didn't accuse him of lying this time, Inspector.'
'That's true.'
'What happened at Lord Hendry's house?'
Colbeck told him about his visit and how profoundly depressed the owner had been at the theft of his beloved painting. The piece of information that Leeming seized on was the suggestion that a woman might be implicated in the crime.
'Did you get her name, Inspector?'
'Only after a long battle,' said Colbeck.
'Who is she?'
'Kitty Lavender.'
'Do you have an address?'
'She lives in London but Lord Hendry was certain that she'd be staying somewhere nearby during Derby Week.'
'How do we find her?'
'By speaking to Hamilton Fido,' said Colbeck. 'He and Miss Lavender will doubtless be sharing the same accommodation.'
'Do you think she had anything to do with the theft of that painting?' said Leeming.
'I'm keeping an open mind about that. What I do think is that last night's incident is related to all the others. If we solve one of the crimes, we will effectively be solving them all. The same person is behind them. Who knows? Her name may even be Kitty Lavender.'
'You did say that a woman might help to unravel this mystery.'
'I still hold to that view,' said Colbeck. 'In fact, we may find that we get help from more than one woman.'
Having packed the food into his satchel, Madeleine handed it to her father. Caleb Andrews thanked her with a kiss then slung the satchel from his shoulder. He was just about to leave the house to go to work.
'You'll have to make your own lunch tomorrow,' she warned.
'Why?'
'Robert is taking me to Epsom.'
'Then you'll be able to see your father making money,' he said chirpily. 'I picked out the winner.'
'Which horse did you bet on – Princess of Fire?'
'I was going to bet on her but I remembered that colts always win the Derby so I've gone for Aleppo instead at 12-1. I read in my newspaper that he's the most likely to upset the favourites in the race. Help me tomorrow and shout for Aleppo.'
'Whoever I shout for, my voice won't be heard in that crowd. Oh, I'm so excited, Father. I just can't wait to get there.'
'You'll enjoy every minute of it, Maddy.'
'It's such a wonderful present for me.'
'I'm glad to see that Inspector Colbeck is treating you in the way you deserve. The only time you've ever been to Epsom was years ago when you were a baby and your mother and I took you on Derby Day.' He tapped his chest and chortled. 'I backed the winner then as well. I bought you a new rattle out of my winnings.'
Madeleine giggled. 'I won't need one of those this year,' she said. 'According to Robert, Aleppo might be a wise choice.'
'Why?'
'The three horses ahead of him in the betting are the ones that have been having trouble. There have been attempts to kill two of them and to bribe the jockey riding the third. Robert says he'll be grateful if he can get Odysseus, Merry Legs and Limerick Lad to the starting post.'
'Is he anywhere nearer making an arrest yet?'
'He thinks so.'
'I've told him before, Maddy – the killer is a jealous husband.'
'You're wrong about that, Father,' she said. 'The victim was a young Irish groom who was walking out with a barmaid called Bonny Rimmer. They worshipped each other. John Feeny would never have looked at another woman, certainly not at someone's wife in Crewe.'
'That's where the inspector should be continuing his search.'
'The murder has nothing to do with Crewe. Feeny probably had no idea where the place is. Everything that Robert has discovered so far is connected with the Derby. The answers lie there.'
'I'll believe that when I see the proof. But I wish I was going with you tomorrow,' he said enviously. 'I'm probably the only person in London who won't be there.'
'When will you learn the result?'
'When I get back to Euston.'
'How?'
'Carrier pigeons will bring the result to London and it will be posted up in various places. Next day, I'll collect my winnings.'
'From where?' she asked. 'I thought the only betting that was allowed was on the course itself.'
Andrews cackled. 'Some rules are made to be flouted.'
'Do you mean that that you've deliberately broken the law?'
'I've just bent it a little, that's all – like everyone else.'
'What will Robert say if he knew that my father was a criminal?' she teased. 'If you break a law, it's his duty to arrest you.'
'Then he'll have to arrest thousands of other people as well, Maddy. A stupid law won't stop us putting money on the Derby. It's every Englishman's right to have a bet.'
'Time to go,' she said, glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece. 'I'll come part of the way with you, Father. I need to go to the market.'
He put a hand to his wallet. 'Do you have enough money?'
'Plenty, thank you.'
Madeleine went into the kitchen to collect a large wicker basket then they left the house together and strolled along the street.
'Who was that woman you mentioned earlier?' he said.
'Bonny Rimmer? She was Feeny's sweetheart.'
'And you've met her?'
'We went to church together last Sunday.'
'Is that where you and Inspector Colbeck were?' he said. 'When he took you off in that trap, I was bound to wonder. What's so special about this girl, Maddy?'
'Robert thinks she'll help us solve the murder.'
'What do you think?'
'I was very hopeful at first,' she said, 'but not any more. If she was going to come forward, she'd have done so by now. To be honest, I don't believe we'll ever see Bonny Rimmer again.'
As soon as he noticed the two detectives coming into the crowded betting room, Hamilton Fido got up from his table and let his assistant take over. Crossing the room, he gave Robert Colbeck and Victor Leeming a cordial greeting and a warm handshake.
'You seem in good spirits this morning, sir,' noted Colbeck.
'I'm always in good spirits, Inspector,' said Fido. 'The Derby gets closer and closer and the money keeps rolling in.'
'Some of it will have to be repaid.'
'Not if it's been wagered on Odysseus or Limerick Lad.'
'I see that the odds have shifted slightly, sir,' said Leeming. 'Your horse is now only 6-1.'
'Are you tempted, Sergeant?'
'Very tempted.'
'But we're not here to place any bets at the moment,' said Colbeck briskly. 'Is there somewhere a little quieter where we might talk to you, Mr Fido?'
'Of course,' said the bookmaker. 'Follow me.'
He took them through a door, along a passageway and into a room that was used for storage. Fido was dressed more ostentatiously than ever and there was even more of a swagger about him.
'How can I help you, gentlemen?' he said obligingly.
Colbeck was direct. 'Tell us how to find Miss Kitty Lavender.'
'Kitty?'
'She is the young lady with whom you stayed at the Wyvern Hotel, is she not? There's no point in prevarication. My information comes from an unimpeachable source.'
'Lord Hendry, no doubt!'
'He was as unwilling as you to divulge her name at first, Mr Fido, even though he'd once tried to pass her off as Lady Hendry. The turn of events forced him to change his mind.'
'What events?'
'I'll tell you that in a moment, sir. First, we'd like to know how we can make contact with Miss Lavender.'
'I'm sorry, Inspector Colbeck,' said Fido, trying to protect her until she was ready to come forward. 'I'm not sure where Kitty is.'
'We assumed that she'd be with you,' said Leeming.
'There are no women bookmakers, Sergeant.'
'Staying with you, Mr Fido.'
'I forego such delights during Derby Week,' said the other with a grin. 'A man in my position can afford no distractions whatsoever at such a busy time, however pleasurable they might be. No matter – I'm consoled by the fact that self-denial is good for the soul but, then,' he added with a wicked smile, 'I don't suppose that you believe we bookmakers have souls, do you?'
'Let's talk about Kitty Lavender,' said Colbeck. 'It seems highly unlikely that she would want to miss the excitement of Derby Week. Do you happen to know if the young lady is here?'
'I've not set eyes on her, Inspector.'
'I understood you were on close terms.'
'By the grace of God, we are.'
'I'm not sure that God would approve of the attachment, Mr Fido,' said Leeming, irritated by the glib reference to the Almighty. 'Your union has not been blessed in His sight.'
'That doesn't prevent either of us from enjoying it, Sergeant.'
'It would prevent me, sir.'
'I'll mention that to Kitty when I see her.'
'And when will that be?' asked Colbeck.
'When this week is over, Inspector.'
'Not before?'
'Only if we should chance to meet.'
'Where are you lodging at the moment?'
'In my own home,' replied Fido. 'My coachman drives me back to London every evening and gets me here early in the morning.'
'Would it not be more sensible to stay near Epsom?'
'Accommodation is almost impossible to find.'
'Do you know if Miss Lavender found any?'
'I've no idea.'
'You seem singularly uninformed about her movements, sir.'
'Kitty is a friend,' said the bookmaker, 'and a rather special friend at that. Yet I don't keep her on a leash. Kitty likes her freedom. She comes in and out of my life at will.'
'I don't think that anyone would be allowed to do that somehow,' said Colbeck levelly. 'You're a man who prefers to exercise control. We saw that in the sad case of Peter Cheggin and the same rule no doubt obtains with Miss Lavender. You never fit into anyone else's plans, Mr Fido – they fit into yours.'
'You're getting to know me too well, Inspector.'
'Well enough, sir.'
'What's this about Lord Hendry and the turn of events?'
'His house was broken into last night,' said Colbeck. 'His portrait of Odysseus was stolen.' Fido laughed harshly. 'He was less amused by the crime. We saw the painting. It was an outstanding piece of portraiture.'
'What use is the portrait of a losing horse?'
'Odysseus has not lost the race yet, sir, and Merry Legs has not won it. May I ask if you were aware that the painting existed?'
'I was, Inspector.'
'How did you come to know about it?'
'Kitty mentioned it to me. She heard about it from Lord Hendry himself. He was inordinately proud of it.' He looked from one to the other and saw their stern expressions. 'Ah – so that's why you've come to see me, is it? Lord Hendry has accused me of arranging the theft. Or perhaps he thinks I broke into the house myself.'
'No,' said Colbeck, 'that's not the allegation he made.'
'Then what is he alleging?'
'He feels that Miss Lavender was involved in some way.'
'Kitty?' Putting back his head, Fido laughed aloud. 'What would she want with the painting of a horse?'
'To cause Lord Hendry pain and embarrassment.'
Fido became serious. 'She's every right to do that, Inspector, and I'd back her to the hilt when she did so. But she's no thief – nor would she know where to find one skilful enough to get in and out of the house without being caught.'
'Would you know where to find one, sir?' asked Leeming.
'I know where to find whatever I want, Sergeant.'
'So you could have advised Miss Lavender.'
'The only advice I gave to Kitty was that she should speak to you. When she's done that, and when you realise that she's had nothing to do with any of the crimes committed, you might stop pestering the two of us.'
'You were glad enough of our help when someone tried to poison your horse,' said Colbeck.
'In times of trouble, I always turn to the law, Inspector.'
'That's what Lord Hendry has done.'
'Well, you can tell him to stop looking in my direction,' said Fido irritably. 'I didn't steal his painting and nor did Kitty. You ought to be talking to Brian Dowd. He has good reason to upset Lord Hendry. So do lots of other people, for that matter. Lord George Hendry is not the most popular man in horseracing.'
'We've learnt that, sir,' said Colbeck. 'Well, you must get back to the betting office. But if Miss Lavender should cross your path…'
'I'll be sure to point her in your direction, Inspector.'
'Thank you.'
Fido gave them a smile of farewell before hurrying off down the passageway. Colbeck rubbed a hand across his chin and reflected on the conversation with the bookmaker. Leeming was terse.
'He's a liar.'
'I don't think Mr Fido has ever been acquainted with the truth.'
'My guess is that Kitty Lavender travels back to his house with him every evening. A man like that just has to wear the trappings of success and the lady is one of them.'
'Granted,' said Colbeck, 'but I don't accept that he lives at home during Derby Week. It would be absurd to travel back and forth to London when the roads are so congested. He'll have found a hotel or lodgings close to the racecourse. Find out where it is, Victor.'
'How, sir?'
'By following him when he leaves at the end of the day. With luck, Hamilton Fido will lead you all the way to Kitty Lavender.'
'May I say how ravishing you look, Kitty?' he remarked, appraising her with beaming approval. 'At times like this, I begin to wish that we were not related.'
'Whereas I'm grateful that we are,' she said.
'I thought I was your beau for the day.'
'You are, Marcus.'
'Then we must look as if we're together,' said Marcus Johnson. 'Not as children of the same mother but as man and mistress.'
'Why not husband and wife?'
He brayed at her. 'Neither of us could manage that deception with any degree of success. It's far too much to ask. Even when I was married, I never contrived to look like a husband and your blend of beauty and voluptuousness would rarely be found in a wife.'
He had come to pick her up from the house to take her to the racecourse. Kitty Lavender had, as usual, taken great pains with her appearance, wearing a dress of light blue shot silk with pagoda sleeves and a hooped skirt with several flounces. To complement the dress, she had chosen a round hat of leghorn straw, trimmed with flowers at the front and a large blue velvet bow at the back. Marcus Johnson wore a well-cut frock coat, fawn trousers and a purple cravat. As she took a final look in the mirror, he put on his top hat.
'What a handsome couple we make!' he declared, looking over her shoulder. 'If he could see us now, Hamilton would be green with jealousy.'
'He won't be jealous of my half-brother.'
'What a pity! I love exciting envy.'
'How did you first come to know him?' she asked.
'I met him at Newmarket when I placed some bets with him. I was staying with friends near Cambridge at the time and I got Hamilton invited back for a night at the card table. He was impressed that I moved so freely among the aristocracy.'
'Did he win at cards?'
'Yes, Kitty,' he replied, 'but only modestly. He played like the bookmaker he is and hedged his bets. Had he been bolder and more venturesome, he would have won far more.'
'Were you bold and venturesome?'
'Of course – but, as it happens, I lost.'
'That's nothing new,' she said, turning to look at him. 'Yet you've had successes at the card table as well, I have to admit that.'
'Good fortune comes in waves. I'm riding one at the moment.'
'So am I, Marcus – thanks to you.'
'Hamilton Fido seemed the obvious choice for you, Kitty,' he said, 'and you were in need of some adventure after wasting your favours on Lord Hendry.'
'I regret ever meeting George now though there were some good times at the start. And like you, I do have a weakness for hobnobbing with the nobility. For that reason,' she said, 'I was prepared to endure some of George's obvious defects.'
'Too old, too ugly, too mean-spirited.'
'And far too married.'
'Why does his wife put up with the old rake?'
'The wonder is that I endured him for so long,' said Kitty with rancour. 'My prospects have improved in every way since I met Hamilton. He's ten times the man that George ever was.'
They left the house and climbed into the waiting cab. As it set off, Kitty adjusted her dress and tried to ignore the dull ache in her temple. Days after she had received it, the bruise caused by the slash of a cane reminded her that it had not yet healed.
'Hamilton keeps on at me about Inspector Colbeck,' she said.
'Why?'
'Because the inspector is determined to speak to me.'
'You know my advice, Kitty,' he said. 'It was bad enough having your hatbox turn up in the middle of a murder investigation. Do you want to make it worse by facing the press? That's what will happen if you cooperate with the police.'
'Hamilton said that Inspector Colbeck is very discreet.'
'He has reporters watching his every move. The moment you talk to him, someone will release your name to the newspapers and that could well bring some adverse publicity. You and I are twilight creatures, Kitty. We operate best in the half-dark of anonymity. If names and descriptions of us appear in newspapers, they could be read by people we are anxious to avoid.'
'There are several of those in my life,' she said, rolling her eyes, 'and I daresay you've left a trail of disappointed ladies in your wake.'
'I have,' he said. 'All the way from Paris to Perth.'
'What were you doing in Perth?'
'I had a brief dalliance with a countess.'
Kitty laughed. 'You are incorrigible, Marcus!'
'That makes two of us. We both have a ruthless streak. But you can rid your mind of Inspector Colbeck,' he went on. 'He won't be able to find you in a month of Sundays. When the murder is eventually solved, your unfortunate connection to it will be soon forgotten.'
When she returned from the market, Madeleine Andrews did her household chores then spent the rest of the time working at her easel. It was late afternoon before she had a visitor. Having given up all hope of seeing Bonny Rimmer again, her spirits soared when she heard a tentative knock on the front door. She opened it at once and saw the girl standing there, nervous, frightened and overawed.
'I'm sorry,' said Bonny. 'I was lost.'
'You got here and that's the main thing. Come on in.'
The barmaid stepped into the house and looked around. The living room was small but it was larger and more comfortable than the bare room that Bonny occupied at the Shepherd and Shepherdess. The place was neat and tidy. Everything had been recently polished. She stared at the painting of a locomotive on the wall.
'It's the Lord of the Isles,' explained Madeleine.
'Oh, I see.'
'It was on display at the Great Exhibition and a friend kindly bought this for me.' She was about to mention that the friend was actually Robert Colbeck but she thought better of it. 'I have a keen interest in railways. My father's an engine driver and I like to draw locomotives.'
She indicated the easel near the window. Bonny went across to inspect the drawing and stood back in amazement. She shook her head in disbelief.
'You did this, Miss Andrews?' she said.
'Yes.'
'It's so clever. I could never do anything like that.'
'I didn't know that I could until I tried.'
Seeing how anxious her visitor was, Madeleine took her into the kitchen and made a pot of tea. When she had taken a few sips from her cup, Bonny Rimmer slowly began to relax. Coming to London for the first time was an unsettling experience for a country girl. The size and speed of everything was terrifying to her, and she felt as if she had stumbled into a foreign country. Madeleine tried to reassure her.
'I'll walk you to the station afterwards,' she said.
'Thank you, Miss Andrews – getting here was a real trial.'
'London can be overpowering for all of us sometimes.'
'It scares me.
'Did you bring anything with you?'
'Oh, yes,' said Bonny, putting down her cup to open her handbag. 'There's not much, I'm afraid.' She took out a handful of items and put them on the table. 'John asked me to look after these letters from his friend because he couldn't read.' A forlorn smile brushed her lips. 'I was going to teach him.'
Madeleine looked at the meagre legacy of John Feeny. Apart from the letters, a few trinkets bought for Bonny and a rabbit's foot he had given her for luck, the only thing there was a short note, written by Brian Dowd, confirming that Feeny had been taken on his payroll.
'He was so proud to get that job,' said Bonny. 'Dozens of lads wanted to work at Mr Dowd's stables but John was the one he chose. It was hard work but he liked it there – at first. He had dreams of riding in Mr Dowd's colours and winning big races.'
'It was not to be.'
'No, Miss Andrews.'
'But he lasted a couple of years,' said Madeleine, seeing the date at the top of the paper. 'Since he fell out with Mr Dowd, I'm surprised he kept this record of working there.'
'He needed the address so that he could write to Jerry Doyle.' Bonny gave a shy smile. 'Or get someone else to write for him.'
'I'm surprised the note was not damaged when he swam ashore.'
'John was not stupid. He knew he might get wet on the voyage so he wrapped everything he had in a piece of oilskin. That includes this,' she said, holding up a misshapen gold ring. 'It belonged to John's mother. He wanted me to take care of it until the day I could wear it as Mrs Feeny.' Bonny slipped it on the appropriate finger. 'You see, Miss Andrews? It fits.'
Madeleine was disappointed. She could see nothing there that would be of any use to Colbeck but she decided to hold on to some of it nevertheless. Bonny was quite happy to leave the letters and the note behind as long as she could take the wedding ring and the trinkets with her. They were her only mementoes of the young man she had loved. Madeleine thanked her.
'When Inspector Colbeck has looked at these other items,' she said, 'I'll make sure that you get them back.'
'Will they be any use?'
'That's for the inspector to decide.'
'You like him, don't you?' said Bonny.
'Well, yes,' replied Madeleine, caught unawares by the bluntness of the question. 'I suppose that I do.'
'I can hear it in your voice when you say his name.'
'He's been very kind to us.'
Madeleine gave her a brief account of how Robert Colbeck had come into her life and how he had solved the series of crimes that started with a train robbery in which Caleb Andrews was badly injured. Bonny listened with fascination.
'Does that mean he'll be able to catch John's killer?' she said.
'I have no doubt about it.'
'What will happen to him?'
'He'll be hanged.'
'I wish I was there to see it,' said Bonny with unexpected anger. 'He deserves terrible pain for what he did to John. I hate him. He'll roast in Hell for this crime.'
Madeleine was surprised by the outburst from such a placid girl but she understood the strain that Bonny Rimmer must be under. As they drank their tea, she moved the conversation to more neutral topics and her visitor calmed down. Before they left, however, Madeleine returned to the subject that had brought them together.
'You told me that John had no enemies.'
'None to speak of,' said Bonny. 'He always got on with people.'
'He didn't get on with Mr Dowd.'
'That was because he ran out of patience. Mr Dowd made all sorts of promises to him about how he'd be a champion jockey one day but they were just lies. He never let him ride in a single race and John realised that he never would.'
'Was that when they had their argument?'
'Yes,' said the other. 'John used bad language towards Mr Dowd and that was that. He was thrown out of the stables without any pay. You know the rest, Miss Andrews.'
'I can see why John was so grateful to meet a friend like you,' said Madeleine. 'For the first time in his life, he had something to look forward to.'
'Oh, he did. John didn't just want to prove to everyone that he could be a good jockey. He wanted to beat Mr Dowd's horses in every race he could. That's what kept him going,' said Bonny. 'He told me that he'd never be really happy until he could get his own back on Mr Dowd. It was like a mission.'
Brian Dowd had had a more than satisfactory day at the races, One of his horses had come second in the opening race and Quicklime, as he had predicted, won the last race on the card. Wearing a frock coat and top hat, he sat among the privileged spectators in the grandstand and relished his position. Lord Hendry, by contrast, had had a miserable afternoon. All of his bets were misplaced, especially the one on his own horse, Darius, in the final race. After a promising start, the animal had pulled up lame three furlongs from home. It was irksome. As he made for the exit, the last person he wanted to encounter was the smirking Irishman.
'It was a rehearsal for tomorrow,' said Dowd.
'What was?'
'That last race – my horse winning by a mile from yours.'
'Darius went lame,' said Lord Hendry.
'A sure sign of lack of fitness – he was badly trained.'
'I need no advice from you about training horses, Dowd.'
'Apparently, you do,' taunted Dowd. 'You can't even train Odysseus to stay on your wall. He galloped off somewhere, I hear.'
'Who told you that?' snarled Lord Hendry.
'You'd be surprised what I get to hear. The rumour is that the painting was stolen in the night. True or false?'
'You ought to know the answer to that.'
'Why?'
'Because it's just the kind of thing you'd do. When you failed to cripple Odysseus in his travelling box, you paid someone to steal that portrait of him instead. It's typical of your low Irish cunning.'
'I wondered how long it would be before you started abusing my country,' said Dowd cheerfully. 'You English are so ungrateful. We dig your canals for you, we build your railways and we show you how to train racehorses properly yet you still sneer at us.'
'Do you have my painting?' demanded Lord Hendry.
'I wouldn't touch it with a barge pole.'
'Do you know where it is?'
'No, Lord Hendry, and, quite frankly, I don't care. The only horse that interests me at the moment is Limerick Lad. When he runs in the Derby tomorrow, you'll see why.'
Dowd walked away before the other man could speak. Lord Hendry muttered a few obscenities under his breath then joined the queue at the exit. His first thought had been that Hamilton Fido was behind the theft of the painting but he now felt that Dowd was a likely suspect as well. He believed that the Irishman had deliberately sought him out to gloat over the loss of the portrait. Lord Hendry decided to report that fact to Robert Colbeck.
Before he could do that, another shock awaited him. As he left the grandstand, an official walked across to him and handed Lord Hendry a letter.
'This was left for you in the office, my lord,' he said.
'By whom?'
'I've no idea. It just appeared.'
Without even thanking the man, Lord Hendry tore open the envelope. His blood froze as he read the single sentence inside.
'Your painting will be returned for?3000.'
Victor Leeming was smiling complacently. Having taken Brian Dowd's advice, he had bet on Quicklime and won himself over twenty pounds. He planned to spend it on gifts for his wife and children but, before he could decide what they would be, he saw that Hamilton Fido was about to leave at last. There had been no point in watching the man while he was in the betting room. Leeming waited until all the races had been run and all bets paid off. Then he lurked behind a coach and waited for the bookmaker to appear. Fido came out with a group of acquaintances but they soon dispersed.
Leeming trailed his man from a reasonable distance, close enough to keep him in sight but far enough behind him to eliminate any risk of being seen by Fido if he suddenly turned round. The thick crowd was both a hazard and help, impeding his progress yet offering him a welcome screen should he need it. The bookmaker seemed to be heading for a line of cabs that stood waiting for business. Leeming was pleased. Once Fido had taken a cab, he could easily be followed in a second one.
As the crowd began to thin out, Leeming got a better view of his quarry. He saw him go to the front of the queue and talk to a cab driver. Before Fido got into the vehicle, a young woman in a light-blue silk dress and straw hat approached him. From the effusive welcome she was given, he surmised that she must be Kitty Lavender. He was thrilled with his discovery but his pursuit came to an abrupt end. Intent on trailing someone else, he did not realise that he had also been followed. Leeming's hat was knocked off from behind and he felt a sharp blow on the back of his skull. At the moment that the cab was drawing away, Leeming was plunging into unconsciousness.
'What is it like? Did you see any races? Was there anybody famous there today? What time do we leave tomorrow? From where will we watch the Derby?'
Robert Colbeck was met with such a battery of questions that it was minutes before he was able to claim a kiss of welcome. When he got to the house late that evening, Madeleine Andrews was in a state of anticipatory delight. The joy of being able to see the Derby was compounded by the pleasure of being at the racecourse with Colbeck. As the questions continued to come, he held up a hand.
'That's enough, Madeleine,' he said. 'When you get to Epsom tomorrow, you'll be able to see for yourself what it's like. But you must bear in mind that it's not merely an excursion for me. While you are watching the races, I'll still be looking for John Feeny's killer.'
'Will he be there?'
'Oh, I think so. The Derby was supposed to be the culmination of his criminal acts. Even though some of those acts were frustrated, I don't believe he'd dare to miss the event.' He was saddened. 'I see that Bonny Rimmer did not, after all, turn up.'
'Oh, but she did,' said Madeleine. 'How silly of me! All I could think about was myself. Yes, she did come, Robert.'
'Did she tell you anything of interest?'
'I think so.'
'Did she bring anything? The girl talked about keepsakes.'
'Those were gifts that John Feeny bought her and the wedding ring that had belonged to his mother. Apart from that, all she had were a few letters from that friend of Feeny's in Ireland.'
'Jerry Doyle?'
'Yes,' said Madeleine, opening the drawer of the sideboard. 'I asked if I could show them to you but they won't be of any real use. The writing is spidery and there's just gossip about the stables.' She took out the items and handed them over. 'See for yourself, Robert.'
'Thank you,' he said. He read the note. 'What's this?'
'Something that Mr Dowd gave to him when he started there,' she replied. 'It was proof that he'd worked at one of the leading Irish stables and he wanted to hang on to that. It was a form of certificate.'
Colbeck scrutinised the note. 'Dowd wrote this himself?'
'Yes, Robert.'
'Are you certain of that?'
'That's what Bonny told me,' she said. 'I had such hopes that she might bring something that turned out to be valuable evidence but she didn't – just two badly written letters and that short note.'
'Come here,' he said, taking her in his arms.
'Why?'
'Because I want to give you a kiss.'
'Yes, please,' she said, responding warmly then looking up at him in surprise. 'What made you want to do that, Robert?'
'This is much more than a mere note,' he said, waving it triumphantly in the air. 'It's a confession.'