Tolerant by nature, Gordon Younger was nevertheless annoyed by the sudden departure of his guests. Without any explanation, Oxley and Irene had left without even drinking the tea they’d requested. What upset Younger most was the fact that they’d taken the newspaper with them. After the long walk to the station to get it, he felt that he at least had the right to read it. His wife was also distressed. She liked Oxley and had found Irene pleasant company. Having offered both of them hospitality, she’d expected gratitude. Yet during their hasty exit, there had been no whisper of thanks from their guests.
‘Have they gone for good?’ asked Younger.
‘They didn’t say.’
‘Have you looked in their room?’
‘No,’ she replied. ‘I’ll do that now.’
Susanna went upstairs and opened the bedroom door to peep in. Her guests had brought very little luggage with them but most of it was still there. She resisted the temptation to poke into a valise. It was private property. In any case, she and her husband had agreed never to look too closely into what Jeremy Oxley did. It was much more sensible to take him at face value. Whenever he came to them, he was invariably in trouble of some kind. Their job was simply to offer unquestioning help to a friend.
When she returned to the parlour, Gordon was on his feet.
His eyebrows arched. ‘Well?’
‘It looks as if they’re coming back.’
‘Then I’ll give Jerry a piece of my mind.’
‘Don’t start an argument,’ she said, querulously. ‘He’s always been well behaved with us but we know he has a temper.’
‘So do I, Susanna. Nobody is going to treat us like that.’
‘There’s probably an innocent explanation.’
‘You can’t excuse bad manners,’ he said, taking a stand. ‘If they want to remain here any longer, then they owe us a grovelling apology and a promise to mend their ways.’
‘Jerry is to blame. Irene simply does what she’s told.’
‘She was rude to us, Susanna, and I won’t stand for it.’
He paced up and down to relieve his anger, then he remembered something and looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. Reaching a decision, he headed for the door.
‘Where are you going, Gordon?’
‘Across the road,’ he said. ‘Martin Baber gets a copy of The Times most days. He’ll have finished with it by now.’
‘Jerry may bring our copy back.’
‘I can’t wait until he does that.’ He went out. ‘I only make the effort to get a paper once or twice a week, so I’m feeling deprived of news. I won’t be long.’
Susanna resumed her seat and thought about the time they’d spent with their unexpected visitors. They had been tense when they first arrived but had gradually relaxed. Irene, in particular, had loved the semi-rural location and the gardens. They had been quiet and undemanding guests, falling in with the daily routine of the Youngers. Oxley was a criminal and always at odds with the law, Susanna accepted that. It had been difficult for a person as law-abiding as herself but Gordon had pointed out that he knew the secret in their past. As a result, they had to maintain their friendship with him and make allowances for his irregular appearances on their doorstep. Oxley held the key to their continued existence under false names. They had to trust him as much as he clearly trusted them.
For that reason, she wanted to prevent any quarrel breaking out. By the time that they returned, she hoped, her husband’s ire would have subsided. Susanna was still going over details of their visit when her husband came back to the house. He waved the newspaper triumphantly in the air.
‘It’s pristine,’ he said. ‘I can catch up on almost a week of news that I missed. Martin hasn’t even looked at it yet. He’s had to go out at short notice. Rose said that we can keep the paper until he gets back.’
‘That’s kind of her.’
‘Such is the value of cultivating good neighbours, Susanna.’
‘Rose has a heart of gold,’ she said with a sigh. ‘There are times when I feel so guilty about having to deceive her and Martin.’
‘It’s not deception,’ he insisted. ‘We are Gordon and Susanna Younger now. We’ve grown into it and cast off our other identities like snakes shedding their skins.’
She pulled a face. ‘That’s a horrid comparison.’
‘Yet it’s an accurate one.’
As he settled down to read the paper, she reached for her embroidery. It was nearing completion now and she recalled how much and how wistfully Irene had admired it. Evidently, it was the sort of accomplishment she’d never had time to master. Putting the thimble in place, she extracted the needle and began work. She was soon interrupted. With a cry of horror, Gordon shook the paper.
‘This explains everything,’ he said.
‘What does?’
‘It’s a report of two policemen who were murdered in the Midlands. The police are hunting for two suspects — Jeremy Oxley and Irene Adnam.’ He was aghast. ‘We’re harbouring killers, Susanna.’
‘Irene was not involved, surely.’
‘According to this, she shot one man at close range.’
‘Dear God!’ she exclaimed.
‘No wonder he took my copy of The Times. He didn’t want me to see this. Now we know why they charged out of here.’
‘We must inform the police at once.’
‘Don’t be silly.’
‘It’s our duty, Gordon. They’re both guilty of murder.’
‘The same charge can be laid against me,’ he warned.
‘You released people from agony,’ she said. ‘That’s not murder.’
‘A jury would think otherwise. We have to be very careful, Susanna. If we start running to the police, our own secret will come out. That would be a catastrophe.’
‘Yet if we don’t report them, somebody else might. Martin and Rose must have seen them in the front garden.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed, ‘but they don’t know their names. There’s a description of the pair of them here but it could apply to thousands of other people of their age. Martin and Rose are not suspicious. They’d never think that their neighbours were hiding two people on the run from the police.’
‘Let me read the article.’
‘You’d find it too disturbing.’
‘Did she really shoot a policeman?’
‘Irene also helped to throw the body of another out of a moving train. Jerry was under arrest and she planned his escape. Those are the people who’ve been sleeping under our roof as if they didn’t have a care in the world.’
Susanna let out a yelp. All the time they’d been talking, she’d been carrying on unthinkingly with her embroidery. As full realisation dawned, and as the faces of Oxley and Irene were conjured into her mind, she jabbed the needle into her hand by mistake and drew blood.
The letter was addressed to Colbeck but the superintendent had no hesitation in opening it. If it was relevant to the investigation, he wanted to see it immediately. When he read it through for the first time, he felt that it might be a hoax, but a second reading made him change his mind. It contained too many details that only Jeremy Oxley could know. The missive was genuine. Intended for Colbeck, it invited him to meet with the man he was trying to catch so that they could ‘discuss matters of mutual interest’. The phrase made Tallis snort. He looked up at Leeming.
‘Who brought this?’ he demanded.
‘A young lad,’ replied the other. ‘He said that a gentleman had given him sixpence to deliver it.’
‘Did you take the money off him?’
‘No, Superintendent — he’s done nothing wrong.’
‘He’s consorting with a wanted man.’
‘The lad wasn’t to know that. He was picked at random. You could hardly expect Oxley to slip it under the front door himself. That would be taking far too big a risk.’
‘I don’t need to be told that, Leeming.’
‘It proves one thing, sir — Oxley has read today’s paper. It’s just as Inspector Colbeck predicted. He’s been seized by panic. He’s given himself away by revealing that he’s actually in London.’ He took a step towards the desk. ‘May I have a look at it, please?’
Tallis dithered for a few moments then handed it over to him. Leeming read it through twice before passing judgement. He put the letter back on the desk.
‘It’s him, sir, no question about it. He’s issuing a challenge.’
‘Unfortunately, it’s to the inspector and he’s not here, is he? No, he went charging off to Coventry on a whim.’
‘He felt that there was evidence to be collected there.’
‘ This is evidence,’ said Tallis, snatching up the letter. ‘It’s evidence that Jeremy Oxley is here in the capital with that murderous doxy of his. It’s evidence that he has the nerve to taunt us.’
‘I’m not sure about that,’ said Leeming, thoughtfully. ‘I didn’t get the feeling that he was taunting us. There’s a note of desperation there. Look at it, Superintendent. There are blots and squiggles everywhere. That letter was dashed off in haste by a man who is losing his nerve.’
Tallis glanced at it again. ‘You could be right,’ he conceded.
‘Inspector Colbeck has been after this man for many years. He knows how Oxley’s mind works. He’d be able to read between the lines of that letter.’
‘Well, he can’t do that from Coventry,’ said Tallis, waspishly. ‘It’s one feat beyond even his extraordinary powers. Oh, where is the man when we really need him?’ he continued, banging the desk. ‘And what was all that nonsense about a dark lady?’
‘I daresay that he’ll tell us when he returns.’
‘And when will that be, pray?’
‘He’ll no doubt catch the fastest train from Coventry, sir.’
‘Damnation!’ roared Tallis, hitting the desk again as if trying to split it asunder. ‘I want Colbeck here now!’
Coventry was a pleasant town that had retained much of its medieval flavour. Centuries earlier, it had been one of the largest communities outside London but its thriving cloth trade had declined somewhat and it had lost its pre-eminence. It was the home of over thirty thousand souls, a number that swelled on market days when people poured in from the surrounding villages. Colbeck enjoyed his walk through twisting streets lined with half-timbered houses that dripped with character. The Sherbourne Hotel, named after the river on whose bank it was sited, was of more recent construction, a solid and symmetrical edifice that offered its guests comfort, privacy, good food and excellent views.
Gwen Darker was the owner’s wife but, since he was now disabled by chronic arthritis, she had taken over the running of the hotel. She was a short woman in her fifties with a soaring bosom and surging backside that made her seem bigger. Impeccably groomed, she wore a dress of red velvet splashed with silver buttons. Coils of pearls hung around her neck. When Colbeck introduced himself, she was amazed that he’d come from London to see her immediately on receipt of her letter. Leaving her assistant to take over, she led her visitor into a private room.
‘May I offer you refreshment, Inspector?’ she said.
‘Later, perhaps,’ he replied. ‘First of all, I’d like to establish that the two people I’m pursuing did actually stay here.’
‘There’s not a flicker of doubt about that, Inspector. They were here less than a fortnight ago. As soon as I read the report in the newspaper, I recognised them — and so did my husband.’
‘Did they book in here as man and wife?’
‘Yes, they called themselves Mr and Mrs Salford.’
‘That’s a suburb of Manchester,’ noted Colbeck, ‘so I can guess why it was chosen. Irene Adnam hails from Manchester.’
‘She did sound as if she came from further north.’
‘How long did they stay here?’
‘Almost a week,’ said Gwen, proudly, ‘and I thought that was a compliment to us. I mean, you don’t stay long at a hotel unless it treats you well. They did say that they might come back again one day but, in view of what I know about them now, they’ll get no welcome at the Sherbourne.’
‘What was your impression of them, Mrs Darker?’
‘They seemed to be a nice, quiet, respectable couple. I usually know if people are not really married and reserve the right to turn them away if they ask for a double room. In their case, I had no qualms. They looked as if they’d grown into a true partnership, the way that only married couples do.’
‘I understand.’
‘We don’t allow impropriety here, Inspector. We conduct our business on sound Christian values and we’d hate to get a name as a place that permitted any licence.’
‘It’s why the hotel obviously has such a good reputation.’
Colbeck had noticed on arrival that the lounge was full of guests, all patently happy with the facilities on offer. Prices were quite steep but they were matched by exceptional service. The place was spotlessly clean, well appointed and efficiently run. To stay there almost a week, Oxley and Adnam must have been able to foot a substantial bill. When they were not engaged in criminal activities, he concluded, they could afford to live in a degree of luxury.
‘How well did you get to know them?’ he wondered.
‘We exchanged a few words each day,’ said Gwen, ‘but they were not very talkative. They liked to keep themselves to themselves. Mr Salford — or whatever his real name is — told us that he’d worked in a bank for many years.’
‘That’s one way of putting it,’ said Colbeck, wryly. ‘What he really meant was that he was closely acquainted with the banking system. To be more exact, Mrs Darker, Oxley is linked to at least three bank robberies.’
‘You’d never have guessed it by looking at him. He fooled me completely, but then, so did the young lady. I’d marked them down as a harmless couple, not as a pair of vicious killers.’
‘What did they do all day?’
‘They took the train to Birmingham a couple of times.’
‘Did they say why?’
‘They were moving on there when they left here and wanted to spy out a good hotel.’
‘So when they left here, they went on to Birmingham.’
‘Yes, they said they were visiting his relatives.’
‘Why didn’t they stay with them?’
‘There was no room, apparently. The house was too small. Besides, Mrs Salford — Irene Adnam, that is — confided to me that she preferred to stay in a hotel.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘That was the curious thing, Inspector.’
‘Go on,’ he encouraged.
‘Well, she treated me with respect, of course, but she did tend to order the staff around. It was almost as if she’d never dealt with servants before and wanted to make the most of it. She could be quite sharp with them at times.’
‘What else can you tell me about them, Mrs Darker?’
Gwen was an observant woman and was able to give Colbeck enough detail to make it absolutely certain of the real identity of her two guests. He was astonished to learn that they’d attended church on Sunday but less surprised to hear that Jeremy Oxley had been seen consulting a copy of Bradshaw. Railway timetables were as important to him as they were to Colbeck. Trains were his means of escape after a crime. He’d stayed in Coventry until the day before the robbery. Once he struck in Birmingham, he and Irene fled instantly with the takings. It was while he was in hiding in Wolverhampton that he’d been caught. Colbeck did not believe for a moment the claim that the couple were going to stay with Oxley’s relatives. They did not exist. As in all his previous robberies, he had chosen the right moment to make his move then ran swiftly away from the scene of the crime. It was a time-honoured pattern.
When she came to the end of her tale, Colbeck thanked her profusely and told her that the information she’d been able to give him had more than justified his visit to Coventry. Gwen was gratified. Horrified to have given accommodation to ruthless criminals, she was desperate to help somehow in their capture.
‘I’ll never forget her face,’ she said. ‘It was truly beautiful.’
Colbeck thought about Helen Millington, the woman whom Irene Adnam resembled in every way. He recalled the delicate loveliness of her features, the exquisite splendour of her hair and the honeyed softness of her voice. He could see her, hear her and inhale her fragrance. He could actually feel her presence.
‘Yes,’ he said at length. ‘She is beautiful — very beautiful.’
There was safety in numbers. As long as they were in a crowd, Oxley and Irene would not be recognised from the description in the newspapers. To passers-by, they looked like any other young middle-class couple, walking arm in arm along the pavement. When they adjourned to a restaurant, they found that the other diners were far too preoccupied with eating their food to take any notice of them. Irene began to voice her concerns.
‘What if the inspector doesn’t turn up?’ she asked.
‘He’ll be there,’ said Oxley with confidence. ‘Colbeck can’t resist a challenge.’
‘I thought you’d never met him.’
‘I haven’t. My case never came to court.’
‘Then how will you recognise him?’
‘He’s the dandy of Scotland Yard, by all accounts. I’ve seen it mentioned in newspaper reports. He likes to dress a little better than other detectives. Well, his days as a peacock will soon be over.’ He patted the gun concealed in his belt. ‘I’m going to put a bullet into Beau Brummell.’
‘I still think it’s too dangerous, Jerry.’
‘Leave the thinking to me.’
‘So many things could go wrong.’
‘Not if we hold our nerve. I thought we were already in the clear but I reckoned without Colbeck. Somehow the clever devil found out your name. All at once, I can hear his footsteps coming up behind us.’
‘So can I,’ she admitted. ‘I’m scared.’
Oxley made her drink some wine to steady herself, then he assured her that one decisive strike would be their salvation. Once the man leading the investigation had been killed, it would lose its shape and thrust. Nobody could replace Robert Colbeck. Irene was slowly convinced of the necessity of committing another murder. A second anxiety then came to the fore.
‘Gordon and Susanna will be upset at the way we left so abruptly,’ she said. ‘I feel embarrassed about going back there.’
‘I’ll smooth their ruffled feathers.’
‘What if they read today’s newspaper?’
‘They don’t have it anymore,’ he pointed out. ‘I took it with us and we know that they very rarely buy a paper. If they did, they’d already have seen that I was wanted by the police.’
‘They’re bound to suspect something, Jerry.’
‘They’ll keep their suspicions to themselves, Irene. They know what’s at stake. The law doesn’t condone euthanasia. Gordon is well aware of what will happen if he’s exposed as a killer. Susanna will be charged as his accessory.’
She pursed her lips. ‘I can’t say that I approve of what they did.’
‘Well, I do,’ he argued. ‘When I’m old and ailing and in constant pain, I’d love some kind doctor to put me out of my misery. What about your father? Didn’t you tell me that he’s failing badly and coughing up blood? Euthanasia might be the answer for him as well.’
‘I daren’t even think about it.’
‘We all have to die sometime.’
‘Let’s not talk about my father,’ she said, reaching for her wine again. ‘He’s always on my conscience.’
She might have added that Constable Arthur Wakeley was on her conscience as well but she didn’t want to admit it. Oxley was not only capable of shrugging off the murders he’d committed, he was calmly planning another. She wondered if she would ever acquire the same immunity to guilt.
‘Coming back to Gordon and Susanna,’ he said, ‘there’s one thing we must always remember. Gordon not only dispatched a number of wealthy old ladies to heaven, he got paid for doing so in their wills. He called it an incidental bonus. If he’d been so high-minded about what he was doing, he’d have refused the money.’
‘What are you saying, Jerry?’
‘For all his blather about performing a sacred duty, Gordon is really the same as us. He has clear criminal tendencies. He was quick to learn that there’s money in euthanasia.’
‘It’s helped them to lead an entirely new life.’
‘They’ll do nothing to jeopardise it, Irene,’ he told her. ‘That’s why you have no call to fret about them. They’d never report us — even if they saw me shoot Inspector Colbeck.’
Less than forty minutes after arriving at Coventry station, he was standing on the platform again. Colbeck’s was a distinctive figure and, as the train steamed in on time, its driver recognised him. A hand waved excitedly from the footplate and Colbeck knew that it must belong to his future father-in-law. Not wishing to delay the departure of the train by speaking to Andrews, he stepped into a compartment and spent the journey reflecting on what he had learnt from Gwen Darker. As the train finally reached its terminus, Colbeck walked briskly along the platform to the locomotive. Overjoyed to see him, Andrews introduced his fireman.
‘Don’t shake hands with him,’ he cautioned. ‘His hands are covered in coal dust.’
Sowerby grinned inanely. ‘So you’re the Railway Detective,’ he said in wonderment. ‘Have you caught them yet?’
‘We are well on the way to doing so,’ said Colbeck.
‘It all happened on our train, you know,’ said Andrews.
‘So Madeleine tells me.’
‘In a sense, we’re working on this case together.’
‘You’ve certainly been of great assistance today, Mr Andrews,’ said Colbeck, checking his watch. ‘You’ve brought the train in six minutes early.’
‘Caleb likes his beer at the end of the shift,’ said Sowerby with a chuckle. ‘That’s why we made such good time.’
‘I don’t suppose you’d like to join us?’ invited Andrews.
‘I’d like to,’ said Colbeck, ‘but duty calls. I have two important visits to make this evening.’
After chatting with them for a couple of minutes, he took his leave and picked up a cab outside the station. What he hadn’t told Andrews was that his first port of call was a certain house in Camden. He got the usual rapturous welcome from Madeleine. Drawing him into the house, she fired a whole series of questions at him. He had to raise both hands to stem the interrogation.
‘I can’t answer everything at once,’ he said. ‘Suffice it to say that we are making headway with the case, so much so that I was able to spurn a very tempting offer of help.’
‘Help from whom?’ She saw the twinkle in his eye. ‘Have you been talking to Father?’
‘It was the other way around, Madeleine. He happened to be driving the train I caught in Coventry. I had a discussion with him when we got to Euston. Apparently, he has a theory about Irene Adnam, though it’s not one that I particularly want to hear.’
‘Father is always having theories about something.’
‘What he did tell me is that his retirement has been finalised.’
‘He’ll be here permanently in a matter of weeks.’
‘Then we must create a studio for you in my house,’ he said, correcting himself at once with an apologetic smile. ‘I should have said our house. It belongs to both of us now.’
‘I’ll only feel that when we’re actually married.’
He took her in his arms again and held her close. It was only now that he realised just how he’d missed her. In pursuit of one woman — and haunted by the memory of another — he’d allowed Madeleine to slip to the back of his mind. Sweeping off his hat, he kissed away the long hours since he’d last seen her, then he flicked his eyes at the easel.
‘Is your new masterpiece ready for display yet?’
‘It’s not a masterpiece, Robert, and it’s not yet ready.’
‘I do envy you your creative talent,’ he said. ‘There are times when I feel my work is dull and pedestrian by comparison.’
‘That’s nonsense!’ she retaliated. ‘I love art dearly but the world could manage very easily without my paintings. You, on the other hand, are indispensable. Think how many villains would still be walking the streets if you hadn’t caught them.’
‘It’s slow, methodical work with nothing creative about it.’
She was dismayed. ‘Does that mean you’re losing your appetite for it?’
‘Not in the slightest,’ he said, quickly. ‘I’m privileged to be doing a job that I enjoy above all else. There are just occasional moments when I would like to hang something on a wall that I’d painted myself, or open a book that I’d written, or hum a tune that I’d managed to compose. I’d like to do one thing that was startlingly original.’
She giggled. ‘Apart from marrying me, you mean?’
‘That will be my greatest achievement.’
‘And mine,’ she said, hugging him tight. ‘But if you really want to be an artist, I can give you a few lessons at no cost whatsoever.’
‘I believe in repaying a kindness, Madeleine. If you teach me, I’ll promise to give you some lessons of my own.’ He ran a gentle finger down her nose. ‘Then we can attain a degree of artistry together.’
Tallis had read the letter so often that he knew it by heart. It was a temptation he was finding hard to resist. Although it was directed at Colbeck, he felt that it should more properly have been sent to him as the senior investigating officer. Oxley wanted to make contact. The letter was quite specific about that. It was so important for him that he was even prepared to break cover and disclose his whereabouts. It was a chance too good to miss. Instead of trailing the man all over the country, Tallis was being offered the opportunity to catch him here in London. Some kind of trap would be involved. He knew that. But he was relying on his experience to be able to anticipate and thereby avoid the trap. In pursuit of glory, he was ready to accept all the hazards. Colbeck would have taken up the challenge implicit in the letter and that is what Tallis resolved to do. For once in his life, he would overshadow his illustrious colleague.
There was a tap on the door. When it opened, Peebles came in.
‘You sent for me, sir?’ he enquired.
‘I need you to accompany me, Constable.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘We are going to arrest Jeremy Oxley,’ said Tallis, grandly. He handed the letter to Peebles. ‘You had better read this.’
The constable did so, his brow furrowing with surprise.
‘Is this genuine, Superintendent?’
‘I believe so.’
‘By rights, Inspector Colbeck should respond to it.’
‘I’d be happy for him to do so if it were not for the fact that he is gallivanting around the country on trains. An exact time has been set for the meeting. As Colbeck is not here, someone else has to go.’
‘What about Sergeant Leeming?’
‘I have decided to take the responsibility on myself, Constable, and I am ordering you to come with me. There will be danger, of course, but that is ever present when one wears an army uniform. As a result, I’m impervious to fear and so, I hope, are you.’
‘Lead on, sir. I’ll follow wherever you go.’
Peebles was thrilled to be given such a task. There were many other detectives on whom Tallis might have called. Instead, he had picked out the newest of them. It was an exciting assignment and he was already relishing the pleasure of telling his beloved about it when he and Catherine were together again. She would be so proud of him. It never crossed his mind that Tallis was deliberately ignoring Leeming and the other detectives because they would object to doing something that was exclusively the right of Robert Colbeck.
Oxley had chosen the venue with care. It was at the end of a quiet road that was as straight as an arrow. From his hiding place among the trees, he had a clear view and could easily escape to a waiting cab if he saw that his demands were not being met. Colbeck had to come alone. That was his requirement. Apart from anything else, he wanted to meet the person who’d been stalking him for so many years. The pistol was loaded and hidden from view. All that he had to do was to get his target close enough to be able to kill him.
Crouched beside him, Irene was ready to beat a retreat.
‘He’s not coming, Jerry.’
‘Give him time.’
‘It’s past the hour already,’ she said. ‘Maybe the inspector didn’t even get your message. Maybe he wasn’t at Scotland Yard.’
‘You saw what it said in the newspaper. The police appealed to the public for help. Inspector Colbeck would have been waiting to sift any information that came in. He was there, believe me.’
‘Then where is he now?’
‘He’ll come soon, Irene.’
Even as he spoke, a tall figure of a man came round the corner and walked towards them. Both stiffened and Oxley put a hand on the gun. But it was a false alarm. Instead of continuing his walk, the man suddenly turned into a doorway, took out a key and let himself into the house. Oxley relaxed but Irene’s tension remained.
‘What if he brings a lot of policemen with him?’ she said.
‘He’s not stupid enough to do that. In any case, we’d see them long before they saw us. We’d have time to vanish into thin air.’
‘Not if the policemen were mounted,’ she argued. ‘They could run us down, Jerry. We’re taking too big a risk.’
‘I know Colbeck — he’ll come alone.’
‘But you’ve never even seen him before.’
‘That’s why I’m so anxious to make his acquaintance, brief as it’s destined to be. This man is the difference between freedom and arrest, Irene. I can’t stress that enough. When he’s been disposed of, we can breathe easily once more.’
‘I can’t breathe at all at the moment,’ she confessed.
‘All you have to do is to stay here and keep quiet.’
They stiffened again as two figures appeared at the end of the road. Oxley took a long, hard look at both of them before making his decision. One of them had to be Colbeck. He had come, after all.
Tallis and Peebles had walked in step side by side. Not long after turning the corner, however, they came to a halt so that they could survey the scene. They were looking along a tree-lined road with houses on both sides. If an ambush had been set, an attacker could be hiding in a variety of places. Yet Tallis sensed no immediate danger. It was unlikely that Oxley had access to any of the houses and, in any case, the trees would impede any shots that were fired. With a steady stride, they walked on, eyes darting from one side of the road to another. They’d gone fifty yards before Tallis spoke.
‘Where the blazes is the fellow?’ he asked.
‘Perhaps he changed his mind, sir.’
‘He nominated this place and this time. Oxley must be here somewhere yet I can see neither hide nor hair of him.’
‘Neither can I, Superintendent,’ said Peebles as they walked on. ‘But I’m starting to get the feeling that we’re being watched.’
Tallis looked around. ‘From which direction?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘I don’t see anyone.’
‘The feeling is getting stronger. He’s definitely here.’
‘Then why doesn’t he show himself?’
‘Stop there!’ yelled a voice and they came to a dead halt.
‘Is that you, Oxley?’ shouted Tallis. ‘Come out into the open.’
‘Be quiet! I’ll only talk to Inspector Colbeck.’
‘I’m his superior.’
‘I don’t care. Tell the inspector to come forward.’
‘He’s mistaken you for Colbeck,’ whispered Tallis.
‘What am I to do?’ asked Peebles.
‘Pretend that you are. We can’t miss an opportunity like this.’
‘Are you coming or are you not?’ taunted Oxley.
‘He’s coming,’ returned Tallis aloud. Out of the side of his mouth, he spoke to Peebles. ‘Beware of tricks, Constable.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said the other.
Straightening his shoulders, he walked forward towards the trees at the end of the road, scanning the houses as he did so. Oxley’s voice seemed to have come from ahead of him rather than from either side but he was taking no chances. Tallis was now thirty yards behind him and in no position to offer help. Peebles was entirely alone. Yet he showed no alarm. He did what he imagined Colbeck would do in the same circumstances. He remained alert and moved calmly on. When he got close to the end of the road, he was stopped by a command.
‘That’s far enough!’ yelled Oxley.
‘Show yourself.’
‘I’ll give the orders, Inspector. I’ve come to strike a bargain.’
‘What kind of bargain?’
‘I want to ensure my continued freedom.’
‘That’s something I can’t guarantee, Mr Oxley. You are Jeremy Oxley, aren’t you?’ he went on. ‘I’m beginning to have doubts about that, you see. I heard that you were a brave and daring man and not someone too scared to show his face. Come back when you pluck up more courage.’
Turning on his heel, Peebles made as if to walk away.
‘Stay where you are!’ bellowed Oxley, coming into view. Peebles stopped again and turned to face him. ‘I’m afraid of nobody on this earth, Inspector.’
‘Not even the hangman?’
Oxley laughed. ‘He’ll have no appointment with me. My bargain is this. Call off your dogs and I undertake to leave the country. That way you get rid of Jeremy Oxley for good.’
‘That’s quite unacceptable,’ said Peebles, evenly. ‘The time has come for you to answer for your crimes. I’d advise you to surrender quietly while you still may.’
‘I never surrender,’ said Oxley, moving slowly forward. ‘You should know that by now, Inspector. You’ve chased me long enough.’
Peebles kept his composure and waited for the moment to pounce. The army had taught him how to overpower an assailant and he had every confidence that he could subdue Oxley even if the man pulled a knife on him. He could see a hand hovering to grab something from under his coat. Peebles knew that he had to strike first. When Oxley was only five yards away, therefore, the constable suddenly came to life and flung himself at the man with his arms outstretched. Oxley was ready for him. Whipping out the pistol, he fired it at the detective’s heart from close range. Peebles got hands around him but they had no strength in them now. The wound was fatal. His body shuddered, his eyes were glassy and his mouth was wide open in disbelief. Life slipping away, he slumped to the ground with his waistcoat sodden with blood. His top hat rolled into the gutter. His impersonation of Colbeck was over.
Watching from a distance, Tallis was horror-struck. Torn between rage and grief, he lumbered forward as fast as he could but he was far too slow. By the time he reached the lifeless body of Ian Peebles, he saw that there was nothing he could do. Oxley had disappeared into the trees and, as he bent over his fallen colleague, Tallis heard the distant sound of a cab being driven away. He was in an absolute torment of remorse. In taking Peebles with him, he had effectively signed the young detective’s death warrant.