11 - Ticket to Oblivion Read online

  ‘Where is he?’ asked Leeming, irritably. ‘He only had three on his list.’

  ‘Well, it’s not because he was slow,’ said Madeleine. ‘When he left here, he went off like a greyhound.’

  ‘I blame myself,’ said Colbeck, looking in vain down the street. ‘I shouldn’t have left him alone. I thought we could cover the hotels more quickly if we split up.’

  ‘Do you remember the places where he went?’

  ‘Yes, Madeleine.’

  ‘What was the last one on the list?’

  He took out a sheet of paper and checked it. ‘The Belvedere,’ he said.

  Alban Kee was careful. He familiarised himself with the geography of the hotel so that he knew where all the exits were. His first target was Manus Cullen. According to Colbeck, it was Terence Whiteside who’d been there on two occasions to take the ransom from Sir Marcus. It was reasonable to expect that he’d done the same with Tunnadine. Because he was lying unconscious behind a hedge, Kee never had the opportunity to take a long look at Whiteside but if the latter did confront Tunnadine, then the man who clubbed the detective to the ground had to be Cullen. As he recalled the blow, Kee’s whole skull throbbed. It was time for retribution.

  He ducked into a space beneath the main staircase so that he could check and load his gun before thrusting it into the holster under his coat. Hat in hand, he went up the stairs to the room where Cullen and his wife were apparently staying. First, he listened at the door but could hear neither voices nor movement inside. When he tried knocking, he got no response yet sensed that somebody was in the room. He knocked harder and stood back. Someone came up the stairs and saw him.

  ‘Good day to you, sir,’ said Cullen, genially. ‘May I help you?’

  ‘I was just calling on a friend but he doesn’t seem to be there.’

  ‘Is he a good friend of yours, sir?’

  ‘As a matter of fact, he is.’

  ‘Then I daresay you’d like to give him a pleasant surprise. My name is Peter O’Malley and I’m the deputy manager. If you can guarantee that you are what you say you are, then I’ll be happy to use my pass key to let you in.’

  Reassured by the sound of an Irish voice, Kee invented a plausible tale about his putative friendship with the very man standing next to him. By way of showing his credentials, he added all kinds of details.

  ‘Hold on, sir,’ said Cullen, laughing. ‘That’s enough. I’m convinced that you’re the gentleman’s friend. In we go.’ Producing the key, he inserted it in the lock and turned it. He opened the door and stood back to let Kee enter the room first, going in after him. ‘There you are, sir. Your friend will be delighted to see you.’

  Kee was staring at the woman who’d jumped up from her chair in alarm.

  ‘Who are you?’ he asked.

  ‘My name is Rhoda Wills, sir.’

  ‘I’ve been looking for you.’

  ‘Then you’ve found her at last,’ said Cullen.

  Kee hadn’t realised that the man was standing directly behind him. Hand on his gun, he swung round but he was no match for the Irishman. Cullen had already taken out a long-bladed knife and he thrust it between Kee’s ribs with shuddering force. When the detective fell against him, Cullen lowered him gently to the ground and watched the blood staining his victim’s shirt and waistcoat. Rhoda drew back against the wall in horror with a hand over her eyes. Cullen put an arm round her and held the blade close to her face.

  ‘One word out of you and it will be your blood on this knife next.’ Tearing the coverlet off the bed, he threw it over the dead body and grinned. ‘He’d only himself to blame,’ he said. ‘He was a private detective hired by Tunnadine and he’d never learnt to watch his back. This is the result.’

  Cullen went out again and locked the door behind him. He walked over to Whiteside’s room and banged on the door with a fist. It was opened instantly.

  ‘What’s happened?’ asked Whiteside.

  ‘I had to kill him. We need to leave.’

  When they reached the Belvedere Hotel, Colbeck went inside with Madeleine and left Victor Leeming outside. The sergeant found a position from which he could watch the front and side exits. He kept his back against a brick wall so that he could not be surprised from behind. The hotel was popular. Cabs arrived at regular intervals to drop off or pick up customers at the main door. Leeming felt certain that Alban Kee had found out something and decided to keep it to himself. Unlike the sergeant, he had no loyalty to Colbeck. Indeed, he would seek any opportunity presented to him to get his own back against a man involved in his dismissal from Scotland Yard. Bringing Kee into the investigation had been a mistake in Leeming’s opinion. Lives were at risk. In a case as dangerous as this one, absolute trust between the detectives was required.

  As soon as he revealed his identity, Colbeck gained the manager’s trust. He was told that Whiteside and Cullen had checked into the hotel with their respective wives. The manager also mentioned that someone else had shown great interest in the guests. His description of the man confirmed that it was Alban Kee. After taking note of the relevant room numbers, Colbeck sent Madeleine outside to warn Leeming that their quarry was in the hotel. Colbeck went upstairs. It was a long climb but he ran up the steps as fast as he could, stopping when he reached the top landing so that he could catch his breath. He then went to the room occupied by Whiteside. There was no need to knock because the door was slightly ajar. Inside the room was evidence of a swift departure with a few items of abandoned clothing and a small, empty valise on the floor. Rushing to the window, he looked out but all he could see was Leeming maintaining his patient vigil with Madeleine at his side.

  Colbeck went to the adjacent door, only to find it locked. When he looked through the keyhole, however, he saw something that riveted him fleetingly to the spot. The coverlet was on the floor hiding something beneath it. One foot protruded. Colbeck had the eerie sensation that he was looking at Alban Kee’s shoe. His first instinct was to alert the manager to what had happened but there was a more pressing need. The kidnappers were making a run for it. Pursuit was a priority. Having come up the main staircase, he knew that they hadn’t descended that way. He searched the corridors until he found the backstairs then shot down them three at a time.

  Imogen and Rhoda had taken the same route at a much slower pace. Holding their skirts up with one hand, they clattered down the uncarpeted stairs. Whiteside and Cullen were behind them, struggling with the luggage because they didn’t wish to let the hotel staff know that they were quitting the building. It meant that the two women had a chance for a whispered conversation.

  ‘He was stabbed to death right in front of me,’ said Rhoda, still shaking.

  ‘Who was he?’

  ‘He was hired by Mr Tunnadine, apparently.’

  Hopes flickered. ‘You mean that he was a detective?’

  ‘Yes, he came searching for us.’

  ‘Then others may also be hunting for us, Rhoda.’

  When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Whiteside barked an order.

  ‘Open that door for us and stand aside!’

  Leeming was the first to see them. Having left by the rear exit, they came round the side of the building where he and Madeleine were standing. Cullen led the way, bent double by the weight of the trunk on his shoulder. Whiteside was next with the lighter luggage while Imogen and Rhoda were close behind him. Since they were carrying nothing, it would have been easy for the two women to dash away but the look of terror in their eyes explained why they didn’t dare to do so. When he reached the front of the hotel, Cullen lowered the trunk to the ground and hailed a cab. As it rolled into position, Leeming made his move, hiding behind the cab as he crept towards them. It was Cullen who failed to watch his back this time. Turning to pick up the trunk, he was suddenly tackled by Leeming and brought to the ground with a thud. Before he could grab his gun or his knife, Cullen was pounded with heavy punches then lifted by the scruff of the neck and hurled against the wall of
the hotel with such force that he was dazed. Leeming already had his handcuffs out.

  Whiteside had been taken by surprise but reacted quickly. He pulled out his pistol and aimed it at the sergeant, only to have his arm knocked sharply upwards by Colbeck who’d come hurtling around the corner. There was a deafening report as the gun went off but the bullet went harmlessly in the air. Madeleine didn’t wish to be left out of the action. During the commotion, she rushed forward and grabbed Imogen by the wrist, pulling her away and beckoning for Rhoda to follow. The two women were only too glad to get away from the violent struggle. They cowered in a doorway on the other side of the road and watched the drama unfold.

  Leeming had handcuffed Cullen and disarmed him, earning a mouthful of abuse for his trouble. Blood dripping down his face, the Irishman was kicking out wildly. Dodging his foot, Leeming caught hold of it and pulled hard so that Cullen pitched forward onto the pavement, banging his head yet again. Whiteside, however, was more difficult to overpower. Though his gun had been ripped away from him, he had teak-hard fists. He grappled with Colbeck, trying everything he could to shake him off, punching, stamping, lifting, using his knees and spitting into the inspector’s face. Colbeck clung on until he was bitten hard on the neck. The pain made him release his hold and Whiteside ran off, snatching up a valise and using it to knock Leeming backwards with a vicious swing when the latter tried to intercept him. The kidnapper hared across the road and ran towards the cab rank further down the street.

  Colbeck was after him like a beagle sighting a fox. The bite on the neck had drawn blood that was staining his cravat. It infuriated him. Sprinting across the road, he lengthened his stride and began to make ground on his adversary. When he realised that he was going to be caught, Whiteside turned to face him. He was panting heavily and sensed that he’d met his match. Trying a different tactic, he patted the valise.

  ‘I’ve got thousands of pounds in here, my friend,’ he said, opening it and taking out a handful of banknotes. ‘Let me go and you get a decent share of it.’

  ‘That money belongs to Sir Marcus Burnhope and Clive Tunnadine. I’m here to retrieve it and to rescue the hostages.’

  ‘What kind of man turns down an offer like that?’

  ‘One who’s come to arrest you for all manner of crimes,’ said Colbeck, stoutly. ‘The army would love to have you but we have first claim on you now.’

  When he moved forward, Colbeck had to duck beneath the flailing valise. Whiteside made another wild attempt to get to the cab rank but he soon had some additional baggage to hamper him. Colbeck had jumped on his back and got an arm around his neck, applying so much pressure that the man could hardly breathe. The valise was heavy but Whiteside was loath to part with the huge ransom he’d collected from two sources. He staggered on a few more yards before his legs buckled. Colbeck gave him no chance to bite this time. As Whiteside pitched forward onto the ground, Colbeck grabbed his hair and banged his head repeatedly on the pavement. All the strength drained out of him and his grip was eventually so weak that he had to let go of the fortune he’d amassed.

  Madeleine had watched it all from the other side of the road with the two hostages. Imogen was both elated and worried, delighted to be free at last, yet fearing that the architect of their misery would get away. Though the violence turned her stomach, she had nothing but praise for the determined way in which Whiteside had been caught, subdued and handcuffed.

  ‘That was wonderful,’ she said. ‘Who is that man?’

  ‘It’s my husband,’ replied Madeleine, proudly. ‘He’s Inspector Colbeck of Scotland Yard. We’ve come to take you home.’

  When the two prisoners had been installed in separate cells in Dublin police station, Colbeck was able to visit a doctor to have his wound examined. He was less worried about his neck than he was about the damage to one of his favourite cravats. After medical treatment, he returned to the Belvedere hotel where he informed the manager that there was a corpse in one of his rooms on the top floor. He remained until an undertaker was summoned and the body of Alban Kee was taken away, then he joined the others. Since it was necessary to stay the night in Dublin, he’d suggested another hotel because the Belvedere held too many grisly memories for the hostages.

  Throwing her arms around him, Madeleine gave him a warm welcome.

  ‘How are you feeling now, Robert?’

  ‘I’ve collected a few bruises,’ he said, ‘but they’ll soon fade. What about the ladies? Have they settled in?’

  ‘Yes, they have. After being kept apart by the kidnappers, they chose to share a room. They’ve been able to wash and change out of the clothing they’ve worn for days. Rhoda said it was the first time she felt really clean.’

  ‘What about all that money?’

  ‘Victor had it put in the hotel safe,’ she said. ‘He counted it out so that he could get a receipt for the amount and said there was enough in that valise to buy this hotel and several others. It was very brave of him to take on Cullen.’

  ‘He had the sense to know that I’d be able to come to his aid very soon. I’m afraid that Alban Kee didn’t have the advantage of a partner. He sought to arrest both men on his own and it was a fatal decision.’

  ‘At least he won’t be able to tell the superintendent about me.’

  ‘I’d much rather have had Kee alive and keeping to his promise of saying nothing. There’ll be a wife and family back in London who’ll have to cope with some tragic news.’ He brightened. ‘You’ve really come into your own now that the hostages are liberated. They warmed to you immediately,’ he said with a smile, ‘and I remember doing exactly the same when we first met. However, I’ll postpone my thanks until a more fitting time. We must concentrate on the two ladies now. They need care and compassion.’

  The evening began slowly. Rhoda Wills was embarrassed to be dining at the same table as the others and Imogen Burnhope was still adjusting to the notion that the nightmare was finally over. As the meal progressed, however, they both relaxed. It was Leeming who chose the moment to shift the conversation to their kidnap.

  ‘What exactly happened?’ he asked.

  ‘We’re too ashamed to tell you,’ said Imogen. ‘It was our own fault, really.’

  ‘The inspector thought that Captain Whiteside had persuaded you to leave the train in disguise at Oxford station.’

  ‘It’s true. We were coaxed into a trap.’

  ‘They were so nice to us at first,’ recalled Rhoda, ‘but they soon changed. Once we became their prisoners, it was terrifying.’

  ‘You don’t have to tell us the full story,’ said Colbeck. ‘Some of it is best forgotten, I fancy. We’re just grateful that you’re both safe and well. You can go back to Burnhope Manor and return to your old lives.’

  Imogen was distressed. ‘But we can’t do that, Inspector,’ she said, forlornly. ‘What will they think of us when they learn that we actually ran away? I can see that it was madness now but the fact remains that I fled my entire family.’

  ‘Why spoil the homecoming by telling them that? They’ll be so overjoyed to see you again that they will doubtless spoil you. Let them do just that,’ urged Colbeck. ‘Say nothing about why you left and simply celebrate the joy of being back.’

  ‘Are you advising us to tell lies?’ asked Rhoda, shocked.

  ‘I’m suggesting that you hold back some of the truth.’

  ‘It’s the kindest thing you can do in the circumstances,’ said Madeleine. ‘Why cause so much hurt when it’s in your power not to do so? Why punish yourselves by reliving every moment when you can be spared some of the agony? You made a mistake and you’ve suffered dreadfully as a result. Do you really want to add to that suffering?’

  ‘Well, no,’ said Imogen, thoughtfully. ‘We don’t.’

  ‘There you are, then,’ said Leeming. ‘It’s all settled.’

  ‘I was brought up to tell the truth,’ Rhoda put in.

  ‘Did you tell the truth when you left Burnhope Manor?’


  She was cowed. ‘No, Sergeant – I didn’t.’

  ‘Remember that.’

  ‘None of us can imagine what you endured,’ said Madeleine with sympathy. ‘It must have been horrendous. That’s all that your parents need to know. They only want their daughter back home again. They don’t wish to be told that she ran away. And they’ll welcome Rhoda back as well because she helped you through your appalling trial. There’s only one question you need to ask.’ She put a gentle hand on Imogen’s arm. ‘Do you want to go back to Burnhope Manor?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ said Imogen, smiling.

  ‘And so do I,’ added Rhoda.

  Edward Tallis was almost jubilant when the telegraph arrived. It had been sent from Holyhead station. By the time that it reached Scotland Yard, his detectives were on their way back to London with two hostages, two prisoners and a coffin containing the body of Alban Kee. Tallis spared his former colleague the tribute of a sigh but his pity was drowned beneath his pleasure. He arranged for a telegraph to Burnhope Manor via Shrub Hill station. It was important for the family to be told the good news as soon as possible.

  He was about to reach for a cigar by way of celebration when he remembered another member of the family who’d be waiting for news. After writing a short letter, he sent it off by hand to an artist’s studio in Chelsea. George Vaughan had as much right as the others to know that all was well at last.

  Uniformed policemen were waiting at Euston station to take the prisoners away and a porter wheeled in the long box used for transporting a coffin without attracting too much attention from travellers milling around. After bidding the hostages a fond farewell, Madeleine left the train to return home. Colbeck and Leeming escorted the others to Paddington where they caught a train to Oxford and changed to the OWWR. Being back on a line that was their escape route was a chastening experience for Imogen and Rhoda. Having left with high hopes, they were going back with shattered dreams. When they got to Shrub Hill, the landau was waiting with Sir Marcus standing beside it. Imogen ran to his arms and he embraced her warmly but the detectives were touched by another reunion. Rhoda Wills took one look at Vernon Tolley then flung herself gratefully into the coachman’s arms. He was her future now. She would not imperil it by admitting that she’d once run away from him.