11 - Ticket to Oblivion Page 25

  ‘Unhappily, it appears so.’

  ‘What do you believe, sir?’

  ‘I want the facts corroborated before I make a judgement.’

  ‘That’s very sensible of you, sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘Come on, Sergeant. It’s time to find out a little more about the private life of Mr Clive Tunnadine.’

  A few minutes later, they were sharing a cab that took them in the direction of Chelsea. Leeming’s mind was filled with anxieties about meeting Dolly Wrenson once again. Colbeck, however, was thinking of the implications of what they’d heard.

  ‘Would you call George Vaughan an honest man, Victor?’

  ‘Yes, sir – he’s very straightforward.’

  ‘Why should he invent such a tale?’

  ‘I’m not sure that he did.’

  ‘Neither am I,’ said Colbeck. ‘It had the ring of authenticity somehow. I’m wondering which of the allegations Sir Marcus found more unpalatable – that Tunnadine kept a mistress or that he beat the poor woman senseless.’

  ‘Either is enough to damn him, sir.’

  ‘I agree.’

  ‘No matter how close they are, even Sir Marcus would draw back from letting his daughter marry such a man.’

  ‘Imogen Burnhope has already fled from him. That’s how she ended up in jeopardy. Whatever happens, the wedding will never take place.’

  ‘The lady is in no position to marry anyone at the moment.’

  ‘Let’s put her aside,’ said Colbeck. ‘Our first task is to speak to Miss Lucinda Graham. That’s the only way to get the full measure of Tunnadine.’

  Their disillusionment had come full circle. From the moment they boarded the train at Shrub Hill station, Imogen Burnhope and Rhoda Wills had been in a kind of dream. Met at Oxford station, they evaded attention by means of a stratagem they’d both loved. They’d been taken to a hotel with every luxury imaginable and treated with the utmost care and attention by the two former soldiers. Imogen had been floating on a cloud of romance. It was her maid who’d remained a little closer to reality. They had now come down to earth. The hotel in which they were being kept was cheap, shoddy and totally lacking in any refinement.

  ‘Will they never let us go?’ wailed Imogen.

  ‘Not as long as they can use us,’ said Rhoda, sadly. ‘We’ve already earned them a lot of money by the sound of it, and they want more.’

  ‘Father will surely have contacted the police.’

  ‘Then where are they?’

  ‘Detectives must be looking for us by now.’

  ‘That’s why Captain Whiteside and the sergeant have taken such trouble to cover our tracks. We’ve been rushed here, there and everywhere. Nobody will find us in Crewe.’

  ‘It’s a beastly place, Rhoda, full of noise and stench.’

  ‘We were spoilt, living in the solitude of the countryside.’

  ‘I realise that now. Why did I ever run away?’

  Rhoda said nothing. Both of them had been asking themselves exactly the same question many times a day. Neither of them relished the replies they had. They had lost everything and were now in limbo. While their immediate future was black, even the prospect of escape could not cheer them. The joyous welcome that Imogen would receive from her family would turn to hostility when the truth was revealed. Then there would be a searing confrontation with Clive Tunnadine. Wherever she looked, there was more pain and anguish.

  The sound of a key in the lock made both of them jump to their feet. When the door opened, Whiteside and Cullen marched into the room.

  ‘Put on your hats, ladies,’ said Whiteside, briskly. ‘We’re leaving.’

  ‘Where are we going?’ asked Imogen.

  ‘I need to put you on display.’

  ‘Why did you take our luggage away from us?’

  ‘It’s waiting at the station.’

  ‘Are we going on another journey?’

  ‘Stop badgering me and do as you’re told,’ said Whiteside. ‘Remember the rules or there’ll be trouble.’

  ‘Both the captain and I are armed,’ Cullen reminded them, ‘and we’ll not hesitate to shoot if we have to. Don’t give us the excuse.’

  Rhoda attempted defiance. ‘What if we refuse to go with you?’

  ‘Then you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.’

  ‘She won’t have any life, Manus,’ said Whiteside, taking a pistol from beneath his coat and holding the barrel against Rhoda’s temple. ‘Do you still want to refuse?’

  With the cold metal pressed against her head, Rhoda’s courage failed her.

  ‘No, no – I’ll do as you tell me,’ she promised.

  ‘That’s what I like to hear.’

  Imogen was horrified. ‘Would you really shoot a woman?’

  ‘I’ll shoot anyone who gets in my way,’ he said, replacing the weapon. ‘That’s what the sergeant and I did when we decided that the army no longer had anything to offer us. We had to shoot our way out.’

  ‘Are you saying that you’re deserters?’

  ‘We are soldiers of fortune, Imogen, riding on the horseback of Fate.’

  ‘All your stories about the Crimea were barefaced lies, then?’

  ‘Not at all,’ he said with a grin. ‘They were all true. It just happens that I wasn’t the person who experienced those adventures. They were recounted to us by someone who really had served in a cavalry regiment in the Crimean War. We borrowed his tales because they served our purpose.’

  ‘So you’re a deserter, a liar and a coward.’

  ‘Cowardice is the one thing you can’t accuse us of, Imogen. It takes courage to kill people, especially when they’re trained soldiers. Do you know what they do to deserters? They execute them,’ said Whiteside with a graphic gesture. ‘Cowards would be too scared to flee. We had the courage to do so.’

  ‘Yes,’ added Cullen. ‘We were brave enough to desert and clever enough to stay out of sight afterwards. Then we spotted you in Oxford one day.’

  Whiteside laughed. ‘And the long courtship began.’

  ‘I’ll never forgive you for what you did,’ warned Imogen.

  ‘With the rewards you’ve helped us to acquire, I can live quite happily without your forgiveness.’ His voice deepened menacingly. ‘All I demand is your obedience. That goes for you as well, Rhoda.’

  ‘What did you mean when you said we’d be on display?’ asked Rhoda.

  ‘Imogen is going to meet the man she agreed to marry,’ explained Whiteside.

  ‘Why are we going to see Mr Tunnadine?’

  He sniggered. ‘The generous fellow is about to give us a great deal of money.’

  Within minutes of meeting her, Colbeck and Leeming knew that Lucinda Graham was telling the truth. Her injuries were grotesquely obvious and her memories too detailed and poignantly recounted to be pure invention. Encouraged by Dolly, she poured out her heart. The detectives were saddened to hear that she had been kept as a mistress by Tunnadine for the whole period during which he’d wooed and won Imogen Burnhope. Leeming was outraged when told that the politician had intended her to remain in the house provided by him so that he could pay clandestine visits after he was married. Whatever charms Lucinda had were now hidden beneath the bruises and the swellings. The loss of her front teeth had robbed her of her alluring smile.

  ‘Mr Tunnadine should be arrested, Inspector,’ said Dolly.

  ‘He already has been,’ replied Colbeck, ‘but this assault merits another arrest. He treated Miss Graham appallingly.’

  ‘He thinks he’s too important to be prosecuted.’

  ‘We will have to disabuse him of that notion.’

  ‘She was afraid to complain,’ said George Vaughan, ‘in case Tunnadine sought revenge against her. It’s exactly the sort of thing he’d do.’

  ‘I fancy that it is.’

  ‘It will be a pleasure to put him under arrest,’ said Leeming.

  ‘Thank you, Sergeant!’ gushed Dolly, touching his shoulder and making him pull back as if her fing
ers were red-hot. ‘Lucinda needs someone on her side.’

  ‘The law is on her side.’

  ‘Every decent human being would support her case,’ said Colbeck.

  He had won Lucinda’s confidence and given her a modicum of hope that her suffering would not go unacknowledged in a court of law. She found the fact that he’d once been a barrister very comforting and she was relieved to see that there was no hint of disapproval in him. Victor Leeming had been troubled by her immorality at first but came to see her as an unfortunate victim rather than as a young woman who’d willingly prostituted herself. His fears about Dolly Wrenson had been groundless. She was extremely pleasant to him and, like Leeming, clearly preferred to forget what had occurred at their last meeting. Now that she and the artist had settled back in together, she had no interest in other men.

  ‘What will happen now, Inspector?’ asked George Vaughan.

  ‘We’ll accost Mr Tunnadine and confront him with the allegations,’ replied Colbeck. ‘I’m certain that he’ll deny any assault and claim that it’s a case of his word against that of Miss Graham.’

  ‘I’d choose Lucinda’s version over his any day.’

  ‘So would I,’ said Dolly.

  ‘Go and arrest the villain right now.’

  ‘It’s not as simple as that,’ said Colbeck. ‘We are, as you doubtless know, engaged in a much more serious investigation. Not that that eclipses what happened to Miss Graham,’ he pointed out, ‘but it means we may not be able to get immediate access to Mr Tunnadine. Our main concern is the kidnap and this latest incident is closely related to it, of course, but it can’t be given priority. What I can promise you is that Mr Tunnadine will not evade punishment.’

  ‘Men who attack women like that should be locked up in perpetuity,’ argued the artist, bunching his fists. ‘If you won’t go after him, then I will.’

  ‘Steer well clear of him, Mr Vaughan. I appreciate your feelings but I’d hate to see you being sued for assault, as you surely would. We have reasons of our own for wanting Mr Tunnadine behind bars. It’s only a matter of time before we finally put him there.’

  They had studied the map closely. Having been there before, Alban Kee had recognised the area to which they were being sent. He remembered the open field to which Clive Tunnadine had been directed by the letter from the kidnappers. It had a deep ditch running down one side of it and the other side was screened by a thick hedge. When they approached the field in the trap, only Tunnadine was visible. Kee was on his hands and knees under a rug at the driver’s feet. He stayed there until they came to a stand of sycamore trees. Taking advantage of the brief cover, he hopped out of the trap and crept towards the hedge so that he could work his way along the field out of sight. Tunnadine, meanwhile, drove on until he reached the middle of the field. As instructed, he pulled the horse to a halt and waited.

  There was no sign of life but that was exactly what he’d expected. He’d been dragged to an isolated spot less than a mile outside the town and was probably under surveillance. Someone had a telescope trained on him to make sure that he’d obeyed his instructions. He picked up the leather bag and set it on his knees. As he did so, his elbow brushed against the weapon holstered under his coat. The sensation gave him both reassurance and bravado. Tunnadine wanted to rescue Imogen but he wanted to punish her abductors even more.

  It seemed like an age before anyone appeared. Just as he was beginning to think that he’d been tricked, he saw a trap emerging from the trees on the other side of the field. A man was driving it with Imogen and Rhoda squeezed in either side of him. As soon as they came within range, Tunnadine wanted to leap up and shoot the man but he knew that there’d be an accomplice somewhere and couldn’t risk firing when the three figures in the trap were so close together. The newcomers stopped some twenty yards or more away. Whiteside stood up in the vehicle.

  ‘Good day to you, Mr Tunnadine!’ he called.

  ‘Who the devil are you?’

  ‘I’m the man who’s come to trade with you.’

  ‘Then hand over the two ladies at once,’ barked Tunnadine.

  ‘I’ll give the orders, if you don’t mind, sir.’

  ‘I do mind.’ He looked at Imogen. ‘Has he harmed you in any way?’

  ‘No, Clive,’ she replied, nervously.

  ‘Tell me the truth.’

  ‘We are … as well as can be expected.’

  ‘Where did they hold you?’

  ‘You can talk to her after I’ve had what I came for,’ said Whiteside, cutting short their brief conversation. ‘Now, this is what you must do.’

  ‘Don’t presume to order me about,’ said Tunnadine, belligerently. ‘I’m not afraid of you.’

  ‘Do as he says,’ pleaded Imogen.

  Whiteside smirked. ‘Do what your beloved tells you.’

  ‘Release her now or your life is forfeit.’

  Tunnadine tried to pull out his weapon but, before he could do so, a gun had appeared miraculously in the other man’s hand. Imogen and Rhoda shrunk back. Whiteside used the barrel of the weapon to indicate what he wanted.

  ‘Get out of the trap,’ he ordered. ‘Walk forward ten yards and put the ransom down on the ground. Then you can go back again.’

  ‘What will you be doing?’

  ‘Oh, I’ll be counting the money, sir. Once I’ve seen that you’ve paid me the prescribed amount, I’ll set the ladies free.’

  The politician hesitated. He’d been told by Kee to keep the kidnapper talking for as long as he could so that the detective could get into position. He picked up the bag and climbed out of the trap.

  ‘I despise you for what you’ve done,’ he said with utter contempt.

  ‘I can live without your good opinion, sir.’

  ‘You’ll be hunted down, you know.’

  Whiteside laughed. ‘Nobody’s caught up with me so far.’

  ‘How do I know that you’ll do as you promised?’

  ‘You don’t.’

  ‘Put that weapon away.’

  ‘I rather like holding it, if you don’t mind.’

  ‘Where have you been keeping them?’

  ‘They’ve been kept safe and sound, as you can see,’ said Whiteside with a quiet chuckle. ‘Now stop asking questions. You’re worse than Sir Marcus.’

  Tunnadine was shaken. ‘You’ve seen Sir Marcus?’

  ‘Yes, sir, he was kind enough to make a generous donation to me. Look at it from my point of view. Why send one ransom note when two will bring in twice as much? Now walk forward ten paces and put it on the ground.’

  Tunnadine’s brain was whirring. If Sir Marcus had paid a ransom, he’d clearly been tricked because the two ladies were still being held. Not only was the kidnapper untrustworthy, he was holding a gun. The politician needed help.

  Staying low, Alban Kee had crept along the margin of the field. He’d removed his hat so that it didn’t protrude above the hedge. He also removed the weapon inside it so that it was ready for instant use. As far as he could see, there was nobody about. By the time that the kidnapper appeared, Kee was on his knees, peering through a gap in the bushes and able to see the confrontation between the two men. He put his hat down and took out the gun from inside his coat. With a weapon in each hand, he felt almost invincible. His overconfidence was mistaken. He was concentrating so hard on the scene in front of him that he didn’t hear Cullen drop down silently from a tree some twenty yards behind him. The Irishman approached stealthily. At the very moment that Kee stood up to shoot, the butt of a gun struck him hard on the back of the skull.

  ‘How kind of you to remove your hat for me, sir!’ said Cullen as the body fell to the ground in front of him. ‘Now, if you’ll be so good as to let me have those dangerous weapons of yours, I’ll put them where they can do no harm.’

  Imogen Burnhope could not bear to look. Standing not far away was the man she had agreed to marry yet from whom she’d fled. Beside her was the person she’d been led to accept as a devoted love
r, only to find out that he’d betrayed her for monetary gain. Neither of them had any appeal whatsoever to her. Forced into a choice, she’d have to pick Tunnadine because he’d never threaten to kill her as Whiteside had done. On the other hand, he’d revile her when he realised what she’d done to him. Imogen was in agonies. She was held fast between two millstones.

  ‘Come forward and put the money down,’ said Whiteside, sharply, ‘or I’ll shoot you where you stand and leave you for the birds to feed on.’

  Tunnadine looked around hopefully but Alban Kee was nowhere in sight. He walked forward ten paces, put the bag on the ground then stood there with his hands on his hips and glared.

  ‘Meet me face to face, if you dare,’ he challenged. ‘I want to look you in the eye.’

  ‘Very well,’ replied Whiteside, jumping down from the trap. ‘I will. You’re a lucky man, Mr Tunnadine. You picked well. Imogen will make a lusty wife for you.’

  ‘Shut your filthy mouth!’

  Whiteside waved the gun. ‘Remember which one of us is armed, sir.’

  ‘I’m not afraid of you.’

  The kidnapper strode towards him, then stopped when he was a couple of yards away. He met the politician’s withering stare without flinching. He raised the gun.

  ‘Tip the money onto the ground and count it for me.’

  ‘It’s all there.’

  ‘For Imogen’s sake, do as you’re told. Don’t make me shoot. She hates the sight of blood.’ He moved forward and kicked the bag over. ‘Count it!’

  Tunnadine was forced to obey. Having hoped for intervention from Kee, he’d concluded that the detective was not able to offer him assistance. He was on his own but at least he had a chance against the kidnapper. It was clear that the man could not be cowed into submission by the sustained glower that Tunnadine had used so successfully against political opponents. Force was the only answer.

  When he bent down, he unlocked the bag, opened it out and tipped the contents onto the grass. Thick wads of banknotes tumbled out. Whiteside was gleeful.

  ‘Don’t worry, sir,’ he said. ‘The lady is worth every penny of it.’

  ‘You’ve got your money – set her free.’