The pilgrimage began at dawn. Derby Day was an unpaid holiday, a joyous release from the workaday world, a national celebration, a glorious opportunity for revelry. People descended on the racecourse from all directions. The road from London to Epsom was a scene of amiable chaos as tens of thousands made the journey on foot, on horseback or seated in an astonishing array of horse-drawn vehicles, ranging from the meanest donkey-cart to the finest carriage. The journey was as much a part of the carnival as the races and it produced all the excesses of which human beings were capable.
There was constant beer-swilling, gormandising, cheering, jeering, good-humoured fighting, whirlwind flirtation, raucous singing and general ribaldry. The long trek was also punctuated by accidents, arguments and the inevitable collapse of overloaded carts or coaches. Musical instruments of all kinds added to the continuous din and self-appointed entertainers displayed their talents whether invited to do so or not. The endless procession was a thing of wonder in itself, watched by crowds who could not go to the Derby but who nevertheless wanted to be part of an unique annual experience.
On the following day, newspapers would give accounts of the journey to Epsom as well as of the races themselves and reporters were busy collecting anecdotes or noting incidents along the way. In the shared joy of travel, there was enough material for a three-volume novel let alone for a column in a newspaper. Any hideous injuries incurred en route were always worth a mention and an overturned carriage would merit a whole paragraph. High drama marked every mile of the excursion. Wherever one looked, raw emotion was on display as racegoers merrily flung off the conventions of civilised behaviour and gave vent to their true feelings. Derby Day was a positive riot of uncontrolled human aspiration.
Edward Tallis was at once shocked and mesmerised by it all, aghast at the air of wild abandon yet unable to take his eyes off it. Seated in a cab beside Victor Leeming, he found new reasons to issue arrest warrants at every turn.
'Look at those delinquents throwing stones at each other,' he said, pointing an index finger. 'They should be taken into custody. So should that woman on top of the beer cart – she's virtually naked! We can't have females disporting themselves in public like that.'
'Everything is tolerated on Derby Day, sir,' said Leeming.
'Not by me.'
'People want some fun.'
'That's permissible,' said Tallis, 'as long as it stays within the bounds of decency and the embrace of the law.'
From the moment they set out from London, the superintendent had regretted his decision to travel by cab. He had simply not realised how slow their progress would be or how beset by what he saw as rampant criminality. When a fat old lady hopped nimbly off a cart, lifting her skirt and spreading her legs to urinate, Tallis winced in disgust. Leeming, however, was savouring it all. Though he was obliged to travel with his superior and endure his ceaseless moaning, he was in relative comfort and spared a journey by rail that he would have hated. A bandage encircled his head but it was hidden beneath his hat. The cab came to a sudden halt.
'What's happening now?' asked Tallis.
'There's a toll-gate ahead, sir,' said Leeming.
'We are from Scotland Yard – we should be waved through.'
'We'd have to get there first and, as you see, we're hemmed in on all sides. We just have to wait in the queue.'
'I want to get to Epsom.'
'Be patient, sir. They sometimes have a brawl or two at toll-gates and that always holds us up.'
'Brawling in public? That must be stopped.'
'Then you'll need to speak to the owners of the toll roads,' said Leeming, 'for that's the root of the problem. Whenever Derby Week comes round, they always put up the prices to make large profits. Somebody refuses to pay and a scuffle takes place.' The cab jerked forward. 'Ah, we're on the move again.'
They soon drew level with members of a brass band, marching in ragged formation and playing ear-splitting melodies that were hopelessly out of tune. The remorseless pounding of the bass drum made Tallis quake.
'How long will the pandemonium last?' he cried.
'You may find it's even noisier when we get there, sir.'
'Nothing can be worse than this!'
'They say there'll be upwards of sixty thousand people on the Downs this afternoon. That means a real uproar. Don't worry, sir. You'll get used to it after a while.'
'Never – this is purgatory!'
Edward Tallis was not all bluster and protest. When Leeming had reported the attack on him at the racecourse, the superintendent had been sympathetic and suggested that they travel to Epsom together so that Leeming would be spared the violent jostling at the railway station. Tallis shot his companion a look of concern.
'How does your head feel now, Sergeant?'
'It still aches a bit,' admitted Leeming, removing his hat to put a tender hand to the back of his skull. 'Yesterday it was agony.'
'I can well believe that.'
'When I regained consciousness, I thought at first I'd been the victim of a robbery but nothing had been stolen. I was knocked out to stop me following Hamilton Fido.'
'We'll have that rogue behind bars before the day is out.'
'It will be very difficult to prove, sir,' said Leeming. 'There were plenty of witnesses and they gave me a description of my attacker before he vanished into the crowd. All in vain, I fear. He'll probably never be seen on the course again so there's no way to link him to Mr Fido.'
'We'll find a way,' said Tallis dourly. 'I'm not having my men assaulted in broad daylight. Besides, the bookmaker lied to you and to Inspector Colbeck. Misleading the police is something of which I take a very dim view. Fido swore that he had no communication with Kitty Lavender yet you saw them embracing.'
'I saw a woman I assumed was Miss Lavender, sir, but I could be wrong. Mr Fido is on familiar terms with many young ladies. We'll have to ask him who that particular one was.'
'Do you believe that he'll give us a truthful answer?'
'No, Superintendent.'
'Nor me – an honest bookmaker is a contradiction in terms. But we won't be deterred by that fact,' said Tallis. 'We'll demand answers.'
'What about Inspector Colbeck, sir?'
'The inspector has another quarry in sight. He left a note on my desk to that effect because he knew that I would call in at my office before I set out this morning. He claims to have made a significant advance,' he went on. 'I look forward to hearing what it is.'
Special trains were intended to relieve the congestion on the road and get large numbers of people from London to Epsom much faster than any horse-drawn transport. Accordingly, thousands flocked to the railway station and boarded the succession of trains. Robert Colbeck and Madeleine Andrews were on one of the earliest to depart. Squashed together in a first-class carriage, both of them enjoyed the close proximity and thought how privileged they were compared to the masses in third class who were crammed into open-topped carriages.
Not that anyone complained about the crush. A festive spirit informed the whole journey. As well as singing, storytelling and jollity, there was feverish speculation about the result of the Derby. The train sped through the morning sunshine with a cargo of happiness and high expectation. Colbeck and Madeleine were caught up in the general exhilaration, their pleasure heightened by the fact that they were seated deliciously close to each other. It was easy to forget that they were in pursuit of a callous murderer.
When they reached Epsom Station, a human wave burst out of the train and swept across the platform. Borne along by the surge, Colbeck and Madeleine gradually eased their way to the back. It was almost possible to talk at last without having to shout above the continuous hullabaloo.
'Are you sorry that you came?' asked Colbeck.
'No,' she replied. 'It's wonderful!'
'So you didn't mind having to get up so early?'
'I'm used to that, Robert.'
'When we get to the racecourse,' he warned, 'I'll have to leave you for a while. As you know, this is not only a social event for me.'
'I can look after myself,' she said.
'You deserve to enjoy the fun of the fair, Madeleine. What you did has been of immense value to me.'
'Talking to Bonny Rimmer was no effort.'
'By winning her confidence, you gained information that would always have been beyond me. I now have a truer picture of the relationship between John Feeny and his former employer. You helped the girl cope in her bereavement as well,' he said, 'and that was important. You provided succour.'
'I wish I could have done more, Robert. When she came to the house yesterday, she looked so lonely and pitiful. The effort of getting to London had really taxed her.'
'It was kind of you to take her back to the station.'
'I'm glad she didn't have to catch a special train like the one we just travelled on,' said Madeleine with a smile. 'Bonny would never have survived that. She was too fragile.'
'Her journey was not in vain. That may give her consolation.'
'Do you really think you can make an arrest today?'
'I'm certain of it,' he said confidently. 'In fact, I intend to make more than one arrest. I just hope that I can do it before the Derby is run. Having been so close to the race and to some of the people involved in it, I'd hate to miss seeing it.'
'I did warn you that Inspector Colbeck would never give up,' said Hamilton Fido. 'You saw what happened yesterday.'
'We were not seen together,' said Kitty Lavender.
'We might have been. If I had not had a bodyguard in the right place, we could have been followed all the way back here.'
'But we weren't, Hamilton.'
'Only because my man knew what to do,' he said. 'Assaulting a policeman is a dangerous game, Kitty. It's like poking a stick in a beehive – there'll be a whole swarm of them buzzing around Epsom today as a result. Why don't you stop hiding?'
Dressed to leave, they were in the bedroom that they were sharing during Derby Week. Kitty was wearing more jewellery than she had done on previous visits to the course and she stopped to examine her diamond necklace in the mirror. Fido grinned.
'That's the difference between Lord Hendry and me,' he said, kissing the nape of the neck. 'He buys you a hat and a hatbox – I give you jewellery.'
'In fairness to George, he did promise to buy me a diamond brooch when his horse won the Derby.'
'When or if?'
'There was no doubt in his mind.'
'How much money has he laid out on the race?'
'A lot, Hamilton,' she said. 'He's risking everything on it.'
'Then he's a bigger fool than I thought.'
'His wife has money but she won't lend him any to fritter away on what she considers to be a pointless sport. It always maddened George that she would make large donations to worthy causes while ignoring him. He's had to raise funds from elsewhere.'
'Loans from friends?'
'He's been forced to mortgage some of his property.'
'What happens if Odysseus loses?'
'George will be finished,' she said with satisfaction.
'In that case, I'll be doing him a favour by killing him in a duel. It will put him out of his misery.'
'Must you go ahead with it, Hamilton?'
'I can't pull out of it now,' he said. 'That would be cowardice.'
'I still feel that George may resort to a trick of some kind.'
'I'll be ready for him, Kitty.'
'I don't want you harmed in any way,' she said, stroking his cheek. 'I couldn't bear to lose you.'
'Lord Hendry poses no danger to me,' he said smugly. 'I'm a bookmaker, remember, and I create enemies without even trying. Over the years, disaffected customers have threatened me with all manner of gruesome deaths. Yet I'm still here,' he boasted. 'Doesn't that tell you something?'
'Yes – you take wise precautions.'
'I also have a sixth sense. I knew that Sergeant Leeming was going to trail me. He came into the betting room once too often and kept glancing in my direction. That's why I gave the signal to one of my bodyguards. Of course,' he went on, 'none of this would have been necessary if you had spoken to Inspector Colbeck. Because of you, his sergeant ended up with a throbbing headache.'
'I don't like getting involved with the police, Hamilton.'
'You have no choice.'
'Marcus warned me against it.'
'It's your decision, Kitty – not his.'
'I know.'
'How much longer do you want to hold back?'
She turned away and walked to the window, gazing sightlessly through the glass. Deep in thought, she stood there for minutes and wrestled with the competing arguments. Fido waited patiently. At length, she turned back to him with a resigned smile.
'I'll speak to Inspector Colbeck today,' she said.
'Thank goodness for that!'
'But only after the race,' she stipulated. 'I'll not let anyone distract me from that. It's the reason I got up so early. I want to enjoy every minute of Derby Day and watch Odysseus getting beaten by Merry Legs. Then – and only then – I'll be ready for Inspector Colbeck.'
Although he knew how capable and independent she was, Robert Colbeck did not want Madeleine Andrews to wander about the Downs on her own. There were too many thieves, confidence tricksters and drunken men about, ready to pounce on an unaccompanied female. Since she was keen to see the acrobats performing, Colbeck assigned a uniformed policeman to be her guide. While she set out with the burly constable, Colbeck went off in search of Brian Dowd.
To get to the stables where Limerick Lad was being kept, he had to find his way through a labyrinth. Broughams, barouches, carts, gigs, four-wheeled chaises, traps, cabs, covered vans and phaetons were parked close together in positions of vantage. As he passed a stagecoach, Colbeck counted no fewer than eight people perched on its roof as they consumed their picnic. When the races began, the vehicles would form their own grandstand and those still sober enough to see would have an excellent view of one part of the course.
It took him some time to reach the stables but he was rewarded with a sight of Brian Dowd. The trainer was walking across the yard. Seeing his visitor, the Irishman gave him a broad smile.
'Top of the morning to you, Inspector!' he said.
'And to you, sir.'
'Isn't it just a grand day for a Derby?'
'That depends,' said Colbeck.
'More rain last night and a clear sky today,' said Dowd happily. 'Limerick Lad couldn't ask for better conditions. The going will be soft and he'll have the sun on his back.'
'I thought he'd have Tim Maguire on his back – unless, that is, he's been tempted away from you by anonymous offers.'
Dowd frowned. 'Do I hear a cynical note in your voice?'
'You were responsible for putting it there, sir,' said Colbeck. 'When you showed me that letter sent to your jockey, I believed that one of your rivals really was trying to steal him from you. Then this happened to fall into my hands,' he continued, pulling out the note that had belonged to John Feeny and thrusting it at Dowd. 'The handwriting bears a strange resemblance to that in the letter, as you'll see.' Extracting the missive addressed to Tim Maguire, he handed it over. 'Don't you agree, Mr Dowd?'
Face motionless, the Irishmen compared the two items. A flicker of irritation showed before he burst into laughter. He reached forward to slap Colbeck companionably on the shoulder.
'You found me out, Inspector. I wrote both of these.'
'In other words, you reported a crime that never existed.'
'But it did exist,' said Dowd. 'You can ask Tim about it. The only difference is that it was made verbally. I thought that if I put it down in writing, you'd take it more seriously.'
'You deliberately misled me, sir,' said Colbeck icily, 'and I take exception to that. You also gave me an incorrect version of what happened when you and John Feeny parted company.'
'It's my word against that of an ignorant barmaid.'
'The girl can read, write and tell the truth.'
'All she's told you are the lies that Feeny spread about me,' said Dowd, spitting out the words. 'Frankly, I'm insulted that you should believe for a moment anything she said.'
'It accords with my own observations, Mr Dowd.'
'Are you questioning my honesty?'
'I'm saying that you're very parsimonious with the truth, sir.'
'I resent that strongly, Inspector!'
'Your resentment is duly noted,' said Colbeck smoothly, 'but it pales beside my own. You wrote a letter purporting to come from an anonymous rival. That was gross deception.'
'I explained that. I needed to secure your attention.'
'You've certainly secured it now.'
'It was done with the best of intentions.'
'What about that story of two men who tried to cudgel Tim Maguire? Did you invent that with the best of intentions as well?'
'It was no invention.'
Colbeck raised a sceptical eyebrow. 'Really?'
'Yes,' retorted Dowd. 'And before you accuse me of lying to you, let me remind you that I didn't report that incident to the police. We dealt with it ourselves as we've done with many similar incidents. If you look at my record as a trainer over the past five years, you'll see how successful I've been. That annoys people, especially members of the English aristocracy who can't bear the thought of an upstart Irishman like me beating their expensive racehorses time and again. At Doncaster last year, someone tied a silk handkerchief around the leg of my colt, Dungannon, then hit it with a stick. It's a miracle the leg was not broken. And you don't have to believe me,' he went on, working himself up into a fury. 'The incident was reported in the newspapers. It happens every time we come to England, you see. We're always under siege over here. Well, look at the evidence. If one of the bastards can send me the severed head of a lad I once employed, you can see what I'm up against.'
'Other owners have their afflictions as well, Mr Dowd.'
'Who cares about that?'
'Merry Legs might well have been poisoned,' said Colbeck. 'Can't you find an ounce of sympathy for the horse?'
'I've sympathy for every horse, Inspector, especially one that's owned by Hamilton Fido. Anyone who tries to kill an animal that way deserves to have the poison poured down his own throat. I hope you catch the man soon.'
'Can you suggest where I might start looking?'
'You do your job and I'll do mine.'
'Unhappily,' said Colbeck, 'the two overlap so we're sure to see more of each other before the day is out. As for what was, in essence, a forged letter written to deceive the police, I'll have to consult my superintendent about the appropriate action to take. Since he's coming to Epsom today, he may well want to speak to you himself.'
'I'll speak to the whole of the Metropolitan Police Force, if you wish,' volunteered Dowd, 'and you're welcome to issue a fine or lock me up, if need be. I ask only one favour, Inspector – please don't do it before the Derby.'
Having complained bitterly throughout the entire journey, Edward Tallis reserved his severest remonstrations for Epsom itself. The sight of so many people enjoying themselves on the Downs was anathema to him. He viewed the vast panorama of tents, marquees, booths, stalls and handcarts as if they were a communal entrance to Hell.
'Have you ever beheld such sin and degradation?' he said.
'They always have a fairground here, sir,' replied Leeming. 'On a day like this, people expect entertainment.'
'Entertainment! Is that what you call it, Sergeant?'
'Most of it is quite harmless. Who could object to acrobats and fire-eaters and fortune-tellers? And there are dozens of amazing freaks to see, not to mention jugglers, musicians and ballad singers. I know there are pickpockets, thimble-riggers and swindlers here as well,' he conceded, 'but the majority of people are very law-abiding.'
'At the moment, perhaps,' said Tallis darkly, 'but anything can happen when drink is taken. We saw that on the way here. The most upright citizen can be reduced to a babbling imbecile after six pints of beer. By evening, this place will be like Sodom and Gomorrah.'
Leeming stifled a laugh. 'Yes, Superintendent.'
They alighted from the cab and elbowed their way towards the grandstand. All around them, people from every class of society were eating, drinking, smoking, laughing, playing games or engaging in lively banter. They went past mechanics and members of the nobility, tradesmen in their best suits, urchins in their rags, noisy shop-boys, boisterous apprentices, wandering foreigners, red-cheeked country folk, orange sellers, minstrels, maidservants, baked-potato vendors, porters, dockworkers, watermen, lavender girls, gypsies, soldiers, sailors and everyone else who had been drawn to the jamboree.
Victor Leeming thought that the crowd was remarkably even-tempered but Tallis predicted trouble. The superintendent was pleased to see a number of police uniforms dotted around the scene.
'Let's hope our men can enforce a measure of control,' he said.
'They'll make all the difference,' said Leeming.
'What's that?'
'There were no policemen in Sodom and Gomorrah.'
'I can do without your comments, Sergeant.'
'I was simply trying to make a point, sir.'
'Make it elsewhere.'
The curt rebuff reduced Leeming to silence until they reached the betting room. After Tallis had been introduced to Hamilton Fido, they adjourned to the nearby storeroom with the bookmaker.
'I'd appreciate it if this discussion was brief,' said Fido. 'As you know, I'm needed to take bets. My presence is critical.'
'This is not a discussion, sir,' said Tallis, 'but part of a police investigation. I set no time limit on that.' He nudged Leeming who removed his hat to reveal the bandaging. 'Yesterday evening the sergeant was clubbed to the ground while in the act of following you.'
Fido feigned surprise. 'Why should he follow me?'
'I thought you'd lead me to Kitty Lavender,' said Leeming.
'I told you – I've no idea where she is.'
'We didn't accept your assurance, sir.'
'In other words,' said Tallis, resuming control, 'one of my officers was assaulted while in pursuit of you, Mr Fido. We are bound to suspect that the ruffian involved was in your employ.'
'I deny that wholeheartedly!' exclaimed Fido.
'We had a feeling that you would.'
'I had no idea that I was being shadowed by Sergeant Leeming and, if I had, I would certainly not have set someone onto him. I'd have stopped and asked him exactly what it was that he wanted. My policy is to assist the guardians of law and order as much as I can.'
'That statement flies in the face of your reputation.'
'The only reputation I have,' said the bookmaker, 'is for honest dealing. That's why I've lasted so long while others have gone to the wall.' He studied Leeming's bandage. 'I'm very sorry that the sergeant was wounded but I must protest at the allegation that I somehow prompted the attack.'
'I know that you employ some pugs, sir,' said Leeming.
'Only as bodyguards.'
'We have a good description of the man who hit me. He was big, brawny and had a broken nose. Two or three witnesses said that he looked like an old boxer.'
'There are plenty of retired boxers roaming the Downs today.'
'We're only concerned with one individual,' said Tallis.
'Do you have him in custody?'
'Not yet.'
'Do you have any idea who he might be?'
'One of your henchmen, Mr Fido.'
'You're welcome to have a list of my employees,' said the other blithely, 'so that you can talk to each of them in turn. I can guarantee you will not find the man you are after because he has no connection whatsoever with me. Sergeant Leeming's injury was caused by a complete stranger.' He flashed a defiant smile. 'Will that be all?'
'No, it will not be all,' said the superintendent tartly.
'I'm required elsewhere, Mr Tallis.'
'You're required here at the moment, sir. I'm not letting you go until we clear up this nonsense about Miss Kitty Lavender. We must see her immediately. Inspector Colbeck believes that she can throw light on the murder that occurred,' he continued, 'and he's tired of your refusal to bring her forward.'
'I've encouraged her to speak to you.'
'Yet she remains inaccessible. Part of the blame for that should lie with you, Mr Fido, which means that you are hindering a murder investigation and are therefore liable to arrest.'
'Your wait is over, Superintendent,' said Fido, holding up both hands to pacify him. 'I give you my solemn word on that. Kitty has finally accepted the wisdom of my advice and consented to speak to the police.'
'Then where is she?'
'And how do you know she's changed her mind,' added Leeming, 'when you claim to be out of touch with her?'
'I'll take those questions in order. Where is she?' he asked. 'I don't rightly know but Kitty is here somewhere and promises faithfully that she will talk to Inspector Colbeck once the Derby is over. How do I know all this? said Fido. 'I was informed of her change of heart by Marcus Johnson, her half-brother. He, too, is here today.' He pulled out a gold watch and consulted it. 'Time races on, gentlemen,' he noted. 'May I have your permission to leave?'
'No,' said Tallis.
'You're preventing the legitimate exercise of my business.'
'There's nothing legitimate about bookmaking, sir, so let's not pretend there is. What I want to know is this, Mr Fido.' Tallis thrust is face close to him. 'How will Inspector Colbeck be able to find this woman?'
'Kitty will come to me after the race to celebrate.'
'Ah,' Leeming blurted out. 'That's another way of saying that Merry Legs is destined to win. Thank you, Mr Fido. You've given me the hint I was after.' He saw the reproach in the superintendent's gleaming eyes. 'Not that I'd ever think of betting on the race, of course,' he said sheepishly. 'That would be quite wrong.'
There was only one place where Lord Hendry would be that morning and that is where Robert Colbeck went to find him. The beleaguered owner of Odysseus had called at the stables to see his horse and to be told by the trainer that the acknowledged favourite would win the Derby comfortably. Emotionally and financially, Lord Hendry had invested so much in the race that he dare not even think about the consequences of failure.
Colbeck had seen the portrait of Odysseus and he was thrilled to view him in the flesh as the horse was walked around the yard. The colt looked magnificent. His coat was glistening, his movement fluid and his fitness self-evident. Knowing that his big moment was near, Odysseus pranced eagerly and tossed his head with equine pride. He was ready for action.
'He looks to be in superb condition,' remarked Colbeck as he came to stand beside Lord Hendry. 'You must be delighted.'
'He's the best colt I've ever owned, Inspector,' said the other fondly. 'I bought him as a yearling for two hundred guineas with a Derby contingency of five hundred. Odysseus's first race was at Goodwood where he won the Ham Stakes. A fortnight later, he won a?100 Plate at Brighton and never looked back. What you see before you are fifteen hands, two inches of pure magic.'
'I can see why you wanted to capture him on canvas.'
Lord Hendry gulped. 'Don't remind me,' he said. 'The loss of that painting was like a knife through the heart. You were right, Inspector.'
'About what?'
'I've been given the chance to buy it back,' said the older man, extracting the letter from his pocket. 'For?3000.'
Colbeck examined the note. 'When did you receive this?'
'Yesterday. It was left at the offices of the Jockey Club for me.'
'By whom?'
'Nobody knows – it was slipped under the door.'
'The thief didn't waste much time,' said Colbeck, returning the note. 'He'll probably make contact again very soon, Lord Hendry, and tell you where to deliver the money. That's when you call me in. Our best chance of catching him is when the painting is handed over.'
'I don't have?3000, Inspector.'
'But you have the appearance of a man who does and that's all that matters. Besides, your horse is the Derby favourite. You're seen as a person with excellent prospects.'
'Whatever happened to them?' Lord Hendry murmured.
'When we discussed the matter before,' recalled Colbeck, 'you felt that Miss Lavender might be party to the theft. Do you still believe that or have you thought of any other possible suspects?'
'Kitty Lavender and Hamilton Fido are the obvious ones.'
'What about the less obvious?'
'Such as?'
'You must tell me, Lord Hendry. How many people, outside your immediate family, knew of the existence of that painting?'
'Very few,' came the reply. 'I wanted to guard against derision. If certain people were aware that I had had the portrait of Odysseus painted before the Derby had even taken place, they would have mocked and sniggered. To obviate that, I swore the artist to silence and told only my most trusted friends.'
'Including Miss Lavender.'
'She was a friend at the time, alas.'
'I'm very anxious to meet the lady,' said Colbeck, 'but she's proving reluctant to come forward. When someone does that, it usually means they have something to hide.'
'Kitty is here, Inspector.'
'Do you know where I could find her?'
'Close to that unspeakable bookmaker.'
'Mr Fido is also a racehorse owner.'
'Not in my opinion,' rejoined Lord Hendry. 'His stables were bought with the fruits of illegal gambling and extortion. Talk to anyone of distinction on the Turf and they'll tell you that Hamilton Fido has lied and cheated his way to the position he now holds. I've seen him at racecourses all over the country,' he continued. 'He practises the black arts of bookmaking and travels with a group of ruffians he describes as his bodyguards. I can't think what Kitty sees in such a deplorable character but that's where she'll be, Inspector – in the vicinity of Hamilton Fido.'
It had been Marcus Johnson's idea to visit the Judge and Jury Show. It was held in a marquee and was a grotesque parody of the judicial system. Presided over by a self-styled Lord Chief Baron, it consisted of the mock trial of a man for seduction and criminal conspiracy. Witnesses were called and Kitty Lavender saw immediately that the females who gave evidence were all men in women's clothing. It was lively drama. The unholy trinity of comedy, obscenity and blasphemy made the audience roar with laughter and Marcus Johnson relished every moment. Kitty found it crude and distasteful. When the first trial was over, she was eager to leave but Johnson detained her.
'Watch what happens next,' he said, nudging her.
'I've seen enough, Marcus.'
'This is the bit I really like.'
Through a gauze curtain, they saw a group of shapely young women in flesh-coloured tights, forming a tableau before bursting into song. At the height of their rendition, the curtain was drawn back to expose the elegant attitudes in which they were standing. Kitty was dismayed at the way the male spectators hooted and clapped but she was even more upset to hear some of the foul language coming from the lips of women in the audience. Marcus Johnson had joined in the chorus of vulgar approval and was disappointed when his half-sister got up the leave. He followed her out of the marquee.
'I thought you might enjoy it,' he said. 'A little decadence helps to brighten anyone's day.'
'What offended me was the sight of those girls, being made to pose like that to arouse the audience. There was a time,' she admitted with a shiver, 'when I might have ended up in that kind of situation.'
'No – you were always too clever to let men exploit you, Kitty. You learnt how to exploit them instead.'
'It was a struggle at the start, Marcus.'
'But look where you are now – adored by a wealthy man.'
'How long will it last? That's what troubles me.'
'Hamilton is completely bewitched.'
'At the moment,' she said, 'but I'd be foolish to think that my hold over him will last for ever. London is full of gorgeous women. It's only a question of time before he replaces me with one of them.'
'He loves you, Kitty.'
'Love can easily cool.'
'You know how to maintain his interest. I've seen you do it with other men. When I met you again after a long absence, you were doing it to Lord Hendry. You led the old libertine by his pizzle.'
She was rueful. 'And what thanks did I get?'
'A blow across the face with his cane,' he said angrily. 'He won't ever do that again, Kitty. I snapped his cane in two. Besides, by the end of the week, he'll be dead.' His braying laugh had a cruel edge. 'What better proof could you have of Hamilton's devotion to you than that he's prepared to fight a duel on your behalf?'
'Yes,' she said, 'that cheered me.'
They were standing in front of a garish poster advertising the Judge and Jury Show and they moved away so that passers-by could see it. Johnson unfolded the newspaper that was under his arm.
'Haven't you seen that enough times, Marcus?' she asked.
'No,' he replied. 'I still haven't made up my mind.'
'But you know the names of the horses off by heart.'
'I'd rather study them in print.'
'I've put money on Merry Legs,' she said.
'A filly hasn't won the Derby for over fifty years.'
'One is due to break that sequence.'
'I'd never risk a bet on Hamilton's horse.'
'Then which one will you pick?'
'The race has to be between these six runners,' he said, pointing to the paper. 'The rest of the field will simply make up the numbers. Somewhere in that sextet is my chance to make a fortune.'
Kitty looked over his shoulder at the list of betting odds. 7-2 against – Lord Hendry's Odysseus