11 - Ticket to Oblivion Page 12

‘Where are my daughter and her maid?’

  ‘I’ll ask the questions, Sir Marcus. Are you armed?’

  ‘No, I am not.’

  ‘How can I be certain of that?’

  ‘I give you my word.’

  ‘Take off your coat,’ ordered the other. ‘Drop it on the ground.’

  Colbeck hesitated. Punctilious about his attire, he didn’t want it stained by the grass but he had to obey. Putting the bag down, he removed his coat and laid it carefully on the ground.

  ‘Put your hands in the air and turn around slowly,’ said the man on the hilltop.

  This time there was no hesitation. Colbeck stretched his arms up high and went in a slow circle. He could almost feel the telescope scanning his body to make sure that no weapon was concealed on it. When he faced the hill again, he picked up the bag and waited. Another figure appeared, an older, stockier man in rougher garb.

  ‘Give the money to my friend,’ the first man called out.

  ‘I need to see the ladies first.’

  ‘Do as you’re told and I’ll honour my side of the bargain.’

  Colbeck was resolute. ‘Unless I see that they are safe, there’ll be no bargain.’

  ‘Are you defying me?’ asked the man, angrily.

  ‘I want proof that my daughter is still alive before I hand over a penny.’

  ‘You can take my word for it.’

  ‘I don’t trust you,’ said Colbeck. ‘I don’t believe that you have Imogen.’

  Picking up his coat, he turned on his heel and deliberately walked away.

  ‘Wait!’ shouted the man. ‘You shall see her.’ He laughed in approval. ‘You’re not the gullible old fool I took you for. Here she is.’

  Colbeck turned round and saw a young woman coming into view in a dress that proclaimed her social position. She was too far away for Colbeck to see her face clearly but she had the tall, lean body described by her father. Colbeck laid his coat back on the ground and waited. The stocky man began to descend the hill.

  ‘Hand the bag to my friend,’ instructed the kidnapper. ‘He will bring it to me. When I’ve counted the money and found it correct, the two ladies will be released.’

  The older man came slowly down the hill, watched carefully through the telescope by his companion. He was not the only person keeping Colbeck under observation. Over to his left, he felt, someone was hiding behind the hedge to watch the proceedings. Colbeck had to suppress the desire to look in that direction. The man lumbered on towards him. Colbeck could now see that he had the appearance of a farm labourer. He certainly didn’t look like someone capable of devising a kidnap plot. The inspector’s instinct told him that the man was simply employed to assist in recovering the money and probably had no idea of the full implications of what was taking place. When he reached Colbeck, he had a bewildered air about him. Licking his lips, he shifted his feet then reached out both hands.

  ‘Give him the money!’ shouted the man on the hill.

  ‘Let my daughter come closer first,’ replied Colbeck.

  ‘I make the demands, Sir Marcus. Hand over the bag.’

  ‘I must be able to see Imogen properly.’

  The intermediary was nervous and confused. Not knowing quite what he should do, he tried to wrest the bag from Colbeck’s hands but he reckoned without the inspector’s strength and persistence. As the two of them struggled, a shot rang out and Colbeck’s assailant was hit in the head, causing blood to spurt everywhere, some of it over Colbeck’s new waistcoat. The man collapsed to the ground in a heap. The young woman on the hill let out a shriek of horror and ran down the long incline. At the same time, Tunnadine came into view over to the left with a pistol in his hand. He jumped over the hedge and sprinted towards the inspector.

  ‘That was madness, sir!’ yelled Colbeck, reprovingly. ‘You’ve killed him.’

  ‘Who cares?’ replied Tunnadine with a wild cackle. ‘I’ve rescued Imogen and saved the money. You’d have done neither.’ Arms wide open, he ran towards the approaching figure. ‘Come to me, Imogen. You’re safe now.’

  But it was not his future bride who was tearing down the hill towards him. It was a pretty country girl with red cheeks. Ignoring the outstretched arms, she went past him and flung herself at the man on the ground.

  ‘Father!’ she cried. ‘What have they done to you?’

  Colbeck was furious as he walked over to Tunnadine. ‘I’ll trouble you for that weapon, please, sir.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ snapped Tunnadine.

  ‘You’ve just committed a murder.’

  ‘Use your eyes, man. I’ve just rid the world of a kidnapper.’

  ‘This man had no connection with the plot, sir. He and his daughter were suborned.’ He extended a hand. ‘I’ll have that pistol now.’

  ‘Damn you, Inspector! I’m not the criminal. He is – and so is the man at the top of the hill. Instead of bothering me, you should be chasing him.’

  ‘There’s no point, sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘The moment you fired that gun, he would have mounted his horse and ridden away hell for leather. By the time I climb that hill, he’ll be a mile or more away. You’ve ruined everything, Mr Tunnadine. Instead of rescuing Sir Marcus’s daughter, you’ve made it more likely that she’ll be killed out of spite.’ Tunnadine shook his head, refusing to accept that he’d made a mistake. ‘The kindest way to describe your actions is that they were an example of misplaced heroism. I view them as mindless stupidity.’

  Colbeck reached forward to snatch the pistol from his hand. Tunnadine made no protest. He gazed down at the dead man and the weeping girl, realising that they were merely pawns used by the real kidnapper. The gunshot had brought the others out of hiding. Leeming was leading the way at a trot, with Tallis and Sir Marcus walking quickly behind him, breathing heavily from their exertions. Tolley came after them, his face a study in fear. Colbeck tried to comfort the girl but she was beyond sympathy. Utterly forlorn, she kept shaking her father as if expecting him to wake up.

  ‘What the devil happened?’ demanded Sir Marcus, taking the bag with the money from Colbeck.

  ‘We heard a shot,’ said Tallis. He saw the body. ‘Who’s this?’

  ‘He’s a local man paid to act as a go-between,’ said Colbeck. ‘Unfortunately, Mr Tunnadine decided to kill him.’

  ‘I thought he was the kidnapper,’ howled Tunnadine. ‘I acted from the best possible motives. I sought to rescue Imogen.’ He pointed to the girl. ‘I believed that this was her. I’ve seen that dress before. I know it belongs to Imogen.’

  ‘What about Rhoda Wills?’ asked Tolley.

  ‘She’s still being held with Sir Marcus’s daughter,’ explained Colbeck, ‘though the two of them may well suffer as a result of Mr Tunnadine’s folly.’

  ‘I only did what I felt was right,’ said Tunnadine, defensively.

  Sir Marcus was seething. ‘You blundered, Clive.’

  ‘I saved your money from being handed over, Sir Marcus.’

  ‘What use is the blasted money without my daughter?’

  ‘I’ll find her, I promise. I’ll bring her back alive.’

  Tolley wanted to ask if Rhoda would come back alive as well but it was not his place to do so. His earlier optimism had now darkened considerably. He skulked on the edge of the group and looked up imploringly at the heavens.

  Tallis asserted himself. ‘What crime has taken place here, Inspector?’

  ‘A murder was committed.’

  ‘Were you injured in any way?’

  ‘Happily, I was not,’ said Colbeck, ‘but I might easily have been. I was wrestling with the man when the shot was fired. It could well have been me lying there on the ground.’

  ‘When I take aim at something,’ boasted Tunnadine, ‘I always hit the mark.’

  ‘What you hit was no mark,’ protested Leeming. ‘It was a human being. All you’ve done is to deprive this poor child of a father.’

  ‘I’ve heard enough,’ decided Tallis. ‘Sergeant �
��’

  ‘Yes, sir?’

  ‘Arrest Mr Tunnadine. He’ll be charged with murder.’

  ‘You can’t do that,’ bellowed Tunnadine, backing away. ‘It was an accident.’

  ‘When you aim at something,’ taunted Colbeck, ‘you always hit the mark.’

  ‘How was I to know who the fellow was?’

  ‘You’ll have plenty of time to reflect upon that while you’re held in custody. I fancy that he may choose to resist arrest, Sergeant Leeming. It will be another charge against him. Go on,’ urged Colbeck. ‘Do your duty.’

  Leeming grinned. ‘It will be a pleasure, Inspector.’

  Reaching under his coat, he produced a pair of handcuffs and moved in.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Clive Tunnadine was fuming. He would not allow someone from what he considered to be the lower orders even to touch him yet Leeming was threatening to put him under restraint. Pushing the sergeant firmly away, he tried to walk off, head held high in disdain. He did not get far. Leeming was on him at once, grabbing an arm and clipping a handcuff to the wrist before Tunnadine could resist. Securing the other wrist proved slightly more difficult because the prisoner swung round with his fist bunched. Leeming parried the blow then grappled with the politician for a few moments before twisting the man’s free hand behind his back and snapping the handcuff in position. Tunnadine went berserk, yelling obscenities and kicking out wildly at his captor.

  ‘Attacking a police officer is a criminal offence, sir,’ said Tallis, ‘and that foul language should never be used in front of a young female, especially one who’s mourning the death of her father.’

  The rebuke stopped the outburst of violence but Tunnadine still simmered.

  ‘What shall we do with him, sir?’ asked Leeming.

  ‘He must be taken before a magistrate and remanded in custody,’ said Tallis.

  ‘You can’t arrest me,’ cried Tunnadine. ‘I’m a Member of Parliament.’

  ‘That doesn’t entitle you to kill someone,’ Colbeck pointed out. ‘If the Prime Minister himself had done what you’ve just done, he’d be treated the same.’

  ‘It was an accident, I tell you. I acted from the best possible motives.’

  ‘That’s debatable, Mr Tunnadine. A clever barrister may be able to commute the charge to one of manslaughter but you must face justice.’

  ‘Take him back to the carriage, Sergeant,’ ordered Tallis.

  Tunnadine turned to Sir Marcus with a pleading note in his voice.

  ‘Are you going to let them do this to me?’

  ‘No,’ said the other, putting friendship before justice, ‘I’m sure that there’s an easier way to settle this. I’m sad for this girl, of course, but the fact remains that she and her father were aiding and abetting a kidnapper. They are the criminals here – not Mr Tunnadine.’

  ‘I’m glad that someone realises that,’ said Tunnadine.

  ‘He was too headstrong, I grant you, and he may inadvertently have complicated the situation that my daughter is in by his intemperate action. However, he is no killer. Let’s be reasonable, gentlemen,’ he went on, looking from Tallis to Colbeck. ‘In essence, this was a tragic accident. It’s the kind of thing that happens sometimes during a shooting party. One of the beaters is killed by a stray shot. It’s regrettable, naturally, but not something one should worry about overmuch. The widow – if there is one – is always given compensation.’

  ‘Does that mean that this man’s family will be offered reparation?’ asked Colbeck, comforting the girl and offering her a handkerchief. ‘They’re certainly in need of it.’

  ‘The matter will be considered,’ said Sir Marcus, huffily.

  ‘But you are holding a large amount of money in your hands.’

  ‘This is the ransom for my daughter and her maid.’

  ‘Besides,’ said Leeming, ‘it wasn’t Sir Marcus who shot him. It was Mr Tunnadine who had the gun. He’s the one who should cough up.’

  ‘I can hardly reach for my wallet when I’m handcuffed like this,’ said Tunnadine, nastily, ‘and, in any case, I refuse to pay anything. I shot a man engaged in a criminal act. Any barrister will be able to get me off scot-free.’

  ‘Don’t be too sure of that, sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘Before I became a detective, I practised at the bar myself. If I was involved in the prosecution, I guarantee that you’d end up with a custodial sentence.’

  ‘Now, now,’ said Sir Marcus with a conciliatory smile, ‘there’s no need for any of this to reach that stage. I appeal to your discretion, Superintendent. Have him released. In my view, he has no case to answer.’

  ‘The law is the law, Sir Marcus,’ said Tallis, solemnly.

  ‘See it for what it was, man. A random shot happens to hit a man who, by the look of him, is nothing but a labourer. His life is worthless compared to that of a leading politician like Mr Tunnadine? It’s a question of degree.’

  ‘With respect, Sir Marcus,’ said Colbeck, one arm around the weeping girl, ‘I find that argument both specious and insulting. This man is a murder victim and therefore deserving of our compassion. In my opinion, his death has equal value to that of a ranting politician with an ill temper and a vicious tongue.’

  ‘Take care, Inspector,’ warned Tallis, starting to become fearful of the consequences of upsetting Sir Marcus. ‘This discussion is becoming too heated.’

  ‘Then release Mr Tunnadine,’ suggested Sir Marcus, ‘and we can talk this over sensibly.’

  ‘He’ll have to give us his word that he won’t try to escape.’

  ‘He will do so.’

  Sir Marcus nodded at Tunnadine who glowered hard at the detectives.

  ‘You have my word of honour,’ he grunted.

  Tallis gave a signal and Leeming unlocked the handcuffs and stowed them under his coat. The prisoner rubbed his wrists. With great reluctance, Tunnadine opened his wallet, took out some banknotes and gave them to Colbeck before being led away by Leeming in the direction of the landau. Tolley went with them. Sir Marcus glanced at the girl, choking back her tears as she talked to Colbeck, who made sure that she could no longer see the lifeless body of her father. It was a touching scene. Sympathy aroused, Sir Marcus opened the bag and took out a few banknotes. He thrust them at Colbeck then strode off towards the carriage.

  ‘What will you do, Inspector?’ asked Tallis.

  ‘I’ll take her back home with her father,’ replied Colbeck. ‘She told me that they came here by horse and cart. I’ll use the cart to transport him. If you can spare the sergeant, I’ll be glad of his help.’

  ‘I’ll send him back to you.’

  ‘We leave it to you to take Mr Tunnadine before a magistrate.’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ said Tallis, irritably, ‘I don’t need advice about police procedure. Do what you have to do then meet me back at Burnhope Manor.’

  ‘I will, sir.’

  About to leave, the superintendent looked at the girl, crying piteously into Colbeck’s handkerchief. Moved by her plight, he took out his wallet and extracted some banknotes before giving them to the inspector. He then trudged off towards the carriage. While he was waiting, Colbeck tried to get more information from the girl.

  ‘What’s your name?’ he asked.

  ‘Mary, sir – I didn’t know we was doing wrong.’

  ‘You were cruelly misled, Mary. A man paid your father money, didn’t he?’

  ‘That’s right, sir.’

  ‘What did he ask you to do?’

  ‘I was to put on this dress,’ she said, looking down at it in dismay. ‘I’ve never seen anything as beautiful. It’s not the sort of thing the likes of me wears, sir. I was so pleased when he gave it to me. But now …’ She glanced down at her father. ‘I wish we’d never met that man.’

  ‘Can you describe him?’

  ‘He was tall like you and very smart. Oh, and he had a nice voice.’

  ‘What age would he be?’

  ‘He was about the same as you, sir.’
/>   ‘Did he give you a name?’

  ‘No, sir, he just gave us money and told us what to do.’

  ‘What was he riding?’

  ‘It was a fine horse, sir – a roan, sixteen hands. He was a good horseman.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘I’ve never seen anyone ride that well, sir. My father said he looked as if he’d been born in the saddle.’

  The same could not be said of Victor Leeming. Summoned by Colbeck, he took no chances with his mettlesome horse. In the interests of safety, he led her by the reins. After letting himself and the mare into the field, he walked across to them.

  ‘This is Mary,’ introduced Colbeck. ‘And this,’ he said to her, ‘is Sergeant Leeming. He’ll look after you for a minute.’

  ‘Where are you going, sir?’ asked Leeming.

  ‘You’ll soon see.’

  Taking the reins from Leeming, he put his foot in the stirrup and hauled himself up into the saddle. One dig of the heels sent the bay mare cantering up the hill. Leeming was amazed at the inspector’s control of the animal.

  ‘Why didn’t she behave like that for me?’ he complained.

  Emma had been so delighted to see her younger brother that she’d clung to him for minutes. It was some time since George Vaughan had been in Oxford and she’d only seen him once during the interim when they met in London at the home of a mutual friend. Pleased with the warmth of his welcome, he did not expect the same response from his father. In the event, it was hours before he even met him. Dominic Vaughan was at a meeting in Corpus Christi College and didn’t return until the afternoon. When he came back to the Master’s Lodging and saw his son there, he was momentarily aghast.

  ‘What are you doing here, George?’ he asked.

  ‘Hello, Father – it’s good to see you again.’

  ‘I thought you’d wiped the dust of Oxford from your feet forever.’

  ‘It seems that I haven’t done so, after all.’

  ‘Then welcome back,’ said Vaughan, shaking his hand. ‘It’s a pleasure to see you again.’ He eyed his son’s flamboyant apparel, ‘though I wish that you’d been wearing something more in keeping with college attire.’

  His son grinned. ‘Would you have me in subfusc, then?’