A night in her lover’s arms did much to reassure Irene Adnam and to banish her fears of arrest. In spite of setbacks and scares, the fact remained that they were still at liberty and were now over a hundred and sixty miles away from London. Crewe was essentially a railway town, far more interested in its mundane daily round than in searching for dangerous criminals. The hotel was accustomed to people coming and going on a regular basis. It had no eagle-eyed manageress like Gwen Darker and no watchful staff. Oxley and Irene were not under surveillance.
At the same time, however, she nursed one justified anxiety. It was all very well for Oxley to point out that Inspector Colbeck would have no clue as to their whereabouts but that would not stop him continuing to look for them. He would never give up. Colbeck had already spent ten years in pursuit of Oxley and — from what she’d heard of him — was the kind of man prepared to spend another decade in the hunt. His persistence was legendary. It meant that the fugitives could never fully relax.
Irene came down late for breakfast. When she entered the dining room, she saw that Oxley was already occupying a table in the far corner. She sat down on the other side of the room and made a point of ignoring him. It was too early for the newspapers to have arrived from London. Eager to read an account of their escape, Oxley had told her that he’d walk to the railway station in due course. The meal was acceptable but it lacked the quality of the breakfasts they’d had at the Sherbourne. Indeed, the hotel could not compete on any terms with the one in which they’d stayed in Coventry. Its merits were that it was quiet, anonymous and close to the station. If they had to flee from the town, they could do so very quickly.
When he’d finished his meal, Oxley made a point of walking close to her so that he could let his hand gently brush her shoulder. Irene felt a delicious thrill coursing through her, heightened by the fact that nobody else in the dining room had been aware of the contact. If this was the game that they had to play for a while, she was ready to enjoy it. Passionate nights together would be balanced by times in the public rooms of hotels where the pair of them pretended to be complete strangers. It might leave her vulnerable to propositions from amorous gentlemen but Irene was used to rebuffing those. The sight of an attractive young woman travelling on her own always excited unwelcome interest. It was a fact of life to which she had long since adjusted.
Seated near a window, she was able to watch Oxley striding jauntily away from the hotel. He looked smart, imposing and urbane. He was a man of the world, at ease in every situation. At their first encounter, she had been struck by his courteousness. As he passed an elderly woman, Irene saw him touch the brim of his hat out of politeness. Oxley was every inch a gentleman. It was one of the things that she loved about him. He’d elevated her in every way. She was no longer an unfortunate girl, forced to enter domestic service. Irene Adnam was now a lady in her own right. She could book into a hotel on her own and order the staff around at will. It made her feel empowered.
She lingered at the table so that she could watch Oxley return and feast her eyes on him. It was not long before they’d be alone together in her room again, discussing what they should do next. First, however, he’d want to celebrate. Their latest escape was bound to have been reported in the London newspapers and Oxley would gloat over them. When he came back into view, however, there was no sense of gloating and still less of celebration. His head was down and his stroll had now become something of a scurry. Passing a lady who was exercising her dog, he didn’t even spare her a glance. There was no time for courtesy now.
Irene’s stomach lurched. Something was wrong. Leaving her tea untouched, she rose from the table and hurried out.
Leeming was impressed. ‘How on earth did you manage it, sir?’
‘I appealed to his sense of duty.’
‘The commissioner did that but to no avail.’
‘I had an ally, Victor.’
‘Oh — who was that?’
‘It was the Duke of Wellington,’ said Colbeck.
‘He’s dead. The superintendent went to the funeral.’
‘He’s still alive in Mr Tallis’s heart.’
‘I didn’t know that he had one,’ said Leeming, sourly. He brightened immediately. ‘But it’s a relief to have him back. When he bawled at me earlier on, I felt almost glad.’
They were in Colbeck’s office, collating a lot of information that had come in. On the wall was a large map of the British Isles. Colbeck explained how he’d convinced Tallis to return to work and how the Duke of Wellington had unknowingly lent his aid. Not for the first time, Leeming admired the inspector’s diplomacy.
‘It was the revelations about Dr and Mrs Oldfield that really secured his interest,’ said Colbeck. ‘It was quite miraculous. A treasure trove of crime was both unearthed and solved in one long conversation. I wish that it was always so easy.’
‘Yet they appeared to be highly respectable,’ said Leeming as he recalled his meeting with the Youngers. ‘Looking at them, I’d never have guessed what the truth was.’
‘They worked hard to reinvent themselves, Victor. Had it not been for the arrival of unexpected guests, the doctor and his wife might have lived happily ever after as Gordon and Susanna Younger. He might even have made an excellent churchwarden.’
‘Not anymore, sir — they’re back in Bradford now, answering for their crimes. They’ll get no mercy.’
Colbeck was philosophical. ‘Justice has a way of catching up with people in the end. It just takes a little longer in some cases.’
‘How long will it take before Oxley and Miss Adnam are caught?’
‘The net is slowly closing around them. Now that we’ve engaged the British public in the search, we’re getting real assistance.’ He opened another letter and scanned it. ‘Here’s another example.’
‘Who sent it?’
‘The manager of a hotel in Stafford,’ said Colbeck. ‘He believes that they might have stayed there after the escape from the train. His description of Oxley doesn’t tally in every particular with the one that we’ve circulated but it sounds as if it could be him, Victor.’
Leeming was sceptical. ‘Wait a moment, sir,’ he said. ‘Stafford is close to Wolverhampton, isn’t it? If you kill two policemen and make a run for it, surely you’d want to get as far away as possible.’
‘That’s what everybody would think and it’s what Oxley and his accomplice would want us to think. After all, they came to London, didn’t they? Who would have imagined that they’d move close to Scotland Yard when the search for them was being directed from here? It was a cunning move on Oxley’s part.’ He took a pin from a small tray on his desk and stuck it in the map. ‘I’m sure that they did stay at Stafford.’ He studied the map then beckoned Leeming over. ‘What do you notice about their movements?’
‘They never stay long in one place, sir.’
‘Take a closer look.’
Leeming stared at the map and tried to find a connection between all the pins they’d inserted in it. Because his knowledge of geography was limited, he struggled to discern a pattern. Since the reward had been advertised in the newspapers, information had poured in from a number of sources. Many of the claims were obviously fraudulent and had been tossed aside by Colbeck, but some deserved to be taken seriously.
Leeming was baffled. ‘Give me a clue, sir.’
‘Think of my future father-in-law.’
‘Why should I want to think about Mr Andrews?’
‘He works for the LNWR,’ replied Colbeck. ‘Join up all of those pins and you’ll see that the majority of them are stations on the route used by the LNWR. Here,’ he went on, moving a finger from pin to pin. ‘We have Watford, Leighton Buzzard, Rugby, Coventry, Birmingham, Wolverhampton, Stafford and so on, all the way up to Warrington and beyond. If our informants are correct, Oxley and Miss Adnam have stayed at all of those places some time over the last few months.’
‘You can see why they’d choose to be close to a railway station, sir. In an emergency, they’d be able to get away by train.’ He peered at the map. ‘Where are they now — that’s what I want to know?’
‘I’d venture to suggest that they’re following tradition,’ said Colbeck. ‘They’ll be staying in a town somewhere along the same route.’ He breathed in deeply. ‘Which town is it, I wonder?’
When he came into her room, Oxley’s face was as dark as a thundercloud. He closed the door behind him and barked an order.
‘Pack your things — we’re leaving here at once!’
‘Why?’ asked Irene in alarm. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Just do as you’re told.’
‘But nobody knows that we’re here, Jerry.’
‘ He knows,’ sneered Oxley. ‘That bastard, Inspector Colbeck, knows every damn thing.’ He handed over the newspaper. ‘Read that.’
Irene took it from him and saw the relevant article. She read it with mounting concern. All her fears flooded back. She was so jittery that she almost dropped the paper.
‘They’ve arrested Gordon and Susanna.’ Irene was incredulous.
‘We got away just in time.’
‘How could they possibly have linked us with that house?’
‘I don’t know,’ he confessed.
‘You said that they wouldn’t find us there in a month of Sundays. That’s why you chose the place.’
‘I thought it was safe, Irene. More important, it kept us out of the public gaze for a while. In any case, I’d wanted to see Gordon and Susanna again. We’re old friends.’
‘Their real names are Philip and Anna Oldfield,’ she noted, looking at the article. ‘They were well known in Bradford at one time.’
‘They’ll be even more well known now that they’ve been caught,’ he said. ‘Well, that’s their problem. We can’t waste time feeling sorry for them. The most disturbing line in that article is the last one. It says that the police are very grateful for the cooperation given by the two prisoners. In other words,’ he added with a snarl, ‘they’ve given us away, Irene. They’ve betrayed us.’
She was too stunned to reply. As she read the article for the second time, she realised how close the police had come to catching them at the house. Only hours earlier, they’d been sleeping quietly in their beds. Had they not left under the cover of darkness, they’d now be languishing in separate cells. It was a frightening thought.
‘This is Colbeck’s doing,’ he said. ‘I told you that he was clever.’
‘I still can’t believe it.’
‘The facts are there in black and white, Irene.’
‘If he can find us there,’ she argued, ‘he can find us anywhere. It was the perfect hiding place and yet he still managed to track us down somehow. I’m terrified, Jerry. There’s no escape from him.’
‘Yes, there is.’
‘Please don’t say that you’ll try to kill him again,’ she begged. ‘He’ll be on guard against you next time.’
‘I’ve thought of another solution, Irene.’
‘What is it?’
‘We leave the country altogether.’
Hope was rekindled. ‘Yes,’ she said, smiling, ‘that’s the answer. Remember that poster we saw at the station when we arrived? It said that we could take a train to Holyhead and pick up a ferry to Ireland. Inspector Colbeck would never touch us there.’
‘Oh yes he would. You haven’t followed his career as closely as I have, Irene. He was involved in a case that started in this very town when a severed head was found in a hatbox. Don’t ask me how he did it,’ he said, ‘but Colbeck went all the way to Ireland in the course of his investigation. It’s far too close. We need to be on another continent altogether.’
‘Where do you suggest?’
‘America.’
She was dumbfounded. The only thing she knew about America was that it was a great distance away. A very long voyage would be necessary with obvious dangers attendant upon it. Irene was rattled. It would be a journey into the unknown. On the other hand, it would finally guarantee them the safety they craved. In a new continent, they could forge an entirely new life.
‘If you won’t come with me,’ he warned, ‘I’ll go alone.’
She grabbed his arm. ‘Don’t say that, Jerry!’
‘It’s the one sure way to shake Colbeck off our tail.’
‘What sort of a place is it?’
‘There’s only one way to find out, Irene. Will you come with me?’
‘Of course,’ she said, embracing him. ‘You don’t have to ask. I’ll follow you anywhere. When do we leave?’
‘Not for some days at least,’ he said. ‘There’s a lot to do first. I’ve got to collect all the money and possessions I have squirrelled away in various places. And it will depend on when we can take ship. Then again, we’ll need documents. I’ll have forgeries made and that will take time. You can say goodbye to Irene Adnam,’ he told her. ‘From now on, we’ll both have another name as man and wife.’
‘And what name will it be, Jerry?’
‘Who knows? Do you have any suggestions?’ He suddenly burst out laughing. ‘I’ve just thought of the ideal name for us, Irene. In the circumstances, it’s the only one to choose.’
‘Stop interrupting!’ roared Tallis, rounding on the hapless sergeant. ‘When I want advice from you, I shall ask for it. Until then, refrain from making inane comments.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Leeming.
‘Listen and learn — that’s my advice to you.’
It had not taken Tallis long to get back into his stride. Apart from delivering a tirade at some of his officers, he had waded through a mass of paperwork relating to other cases. He’d now come into Colbeck’s office to take stock of progress on the murder investigation. In directing him towards the map on the wall, Leeming had earned himself a stinging rebuke yet, strangely, it caused no pain this time. Having the superintendent back at Scotland Yard was so comforting that the sergeant felt insulated against the fury of his tongue. It was left to Colbeck to explain the significance of the pins in the map.
‘It’s a valid theory,’ said Tallis, ‘but it doesn’t tell us where he is at the moment. We could never check every hotel within reach of the line operated by the London and North Western Railway.’
‘I accept that, sir,’ said Colbeck.
‘My question is this — what will Oxley’s next move be?’
‘He’ll go into hiding, sir,’ Leeming put in.
‘Any fool could work that out.’
‘It needed saying nevertheless.’
‘On the contrary, Sergeant,’ said Tallis. ‘It could be taken as read. There are certain assumptions that we can make without having to put them into words. Agreed?’
‘You could be right, sir.’
‘I am right, man — now please shut up.’
‘Victor is quite right in one sense,’ said Colbeck, ‘but wrong in another. Two people on the run will always look for a place of refuge. However…’
‘Go on,’ said Tallis, standing beside him.
‘I suspect that they won’t stay there for long. Oxley will have been shaken rudely out of his complacence by the reports in this morning’s papers. The fact that we arrested his two friends will come as a terrible blow to him, sir.’
‘And so it should. We trailed them to their lair.’
‘It was all because I spoke to that clerk from the ticket office at Euston,’ said Leeming, wishing that he’d never spoken when subjected to the superintendent’s basilisk stare. He retreated into a corner. ‘I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to interrupt.’
‘Pay attention to Colbeck. He has something sensible to say.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘They’ll feel that we’re closing in,’ resumed Colbeck. ‘They tried to kill me and they failed. They thought they were safe with their friends yet we found them. Our pursuit will seem inexorable.’
‘That’s why it must continue with vigour.’
‘Why did you say that I was wrong, Inspector?’ asked Leeming.
‘You almost invariably are,’ sniped Tallis.
‘They’ll hide in the first instance, Victor,’ said Colbeck, ‘but the ground will tremble beneath them when they learn about the way that we almost caught them. They may well decide that there’s only one course of action left open to them.’
‘There’ll be a second attempt to kill you?’ asked Tallis.
‘That would be far too risky, sir. No, I believe that they will seriously consider leaving the country altogether. That way — and that way only — they’d feel out of our reach.’
‘It makes sense,’ remarked Leeming.
Tallis was not persuaded. ‘It’s yet another of the inspector’s famous theories,’ he said with a slight edge. ‘How valid this one is, I have my doubts. We are talking about a man who’s contrived to evade the law for a very long time.’
‘He’s beginning to lose his touch, sir,’ observed Colbeck. ‘He was arrested in Wolverhampton. That was careless of him. And when he set out to kill me, he shot someone else in my place.’
‘There’s no need to harp on about that,’ said Tallis, uneasily.
‘I fancy that they’ll consider going abroad.’
‘I wouldn’t,’ said Leeming. ‘You can’t trust foreigners. I hated it when we had to go to France. They were so shifty over there.’
‘Spare us your reminiscences,’ said Tallis, acidly.
‘They never made us feel welcome, sir.’
‘You are rapidly outwearing your welcome in this very room, Leeming. Either hold your tongue or get out of here.’ Leeming shrank back into his corner again. ‘Where will they go, Inspector?’
‘My guess is as good as yours, sir,’ said Colbeck, ‘but I know one thing. If they are to emigrate, they’ll need time to arrange everything. We might catch them before they go.’
‘How do you intend to do that?’
‘We’ve seen before that Irene Adnam still has feelings for her father. I don’t believe that she’d leave the country without paying him a last visit.’ He picked up a pin and jabbed it into the map. ‘This is where I believe we should go next, sir — Manchester.’
Even in the relatively short time since she’d last seen him, Silas Adnam’s health had visibly deteriorated. Irene saw that his cheeks had hollowed, his eyes were bloodshot and his skin pallid. His cough was now almost continuous and causing him so much pain that he kept putting a hand to his chest. Adnam’s voice was hoarse.
‘I’m surprised to see you again, Irene,’ he said.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘My lungs are on fire. It’s getting worse.’
‘You should have spent some of that money I gave you on a doctor. You need help, Father.’
‘I’m past helping.’ He came forward to glare at her. ‘I never thought that it would come to this.’
‘It was your own fault,’ said Irene.
‘I’m not talking about me — I’m talking about you.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘A detective came to see me. His name was Inspector Colbeck. He told me exactly what sort of a daughter I have.’
She reeled. ‘The inspector came here?’
‘Yes. It looks as if I helped to bring a monster into the world.’
‘Don’t believe everything you hear,’ she warned.
He went on the attack. ‘You don’t work as a governess in London, do you?’
‘No, I don’t, as it happens.’
‘Then why did you tell me that you did?’ he said, resentfully. ‘Why did you tell me lie after lie? There was I, thinking that I had a dutiful daughter, when all the time she was stealing from the people who employed her.’
‘They deserved it,’ she countered. ‘They treated me like dirt.’
‘So it’s true, then?’
‘I don’t deny it.’
‘What about the murder?’ he asked, searching her face with widened eyes. ‘Did you really shoot a policeman?’ She was lost for words. ‘Tell me, Irene. Try to be honest with your father for once in your life. Did you or did you not kill someone?’
She lowered her head. Taking her silence as a confession of guilt, he let out a gasp of horror then had a coughing fit. He flopped down on the bed and put a palm to his chest. Irene was mortified that he now knew the truth about her. The fact that Colbeck had actually been to see her father was more than unsettling. It induced instant panic. Irene could simply not understand how he’d made contact with the old man. It altered the whole situation. Having come to tell him a rehearsed story about going abroad with the family for whom she worked, she had to think again. Before, her father had been no more than a pathetic ruin. Now, however, he was a potential danger. Shocked by the ugly truth about his daughter, he might be tempted to report her visit to the police.
Irene knew exactly what Oxley would do in her position. There’d be no hesitation. Faced with the possibility of betrayal, he’d kill the old man without compunction. He’d only be shortening a life that had very little time to run. That option was not available to Irene. She had no weapon and she was held back by a vague sense of duty to the man who’d fathered her. Besides, her conscience already had far too much to accommodate. Irene decided to buy his silence.
‘I’m leaving the country,’ she told him.
‘Good riddance!’ he said.
‘You’ll never see me again, Father.’
‘That won’t trouble me. I want nothing to do with a killer.’
‘I had to do what I did,’ she said. ‘It’s no good explaining because you’d never understand. But before you start to look down on me, you should remember how much money I’ve given you over the years. I’ve kept you alive, Father. I had no need to do that.’
‘If I’d known where the money came from, I’d never have touched it,’ he said, rising to his feet to strike a pose. ‘I don’t have much to call my own but I do have moral standards. I used to think that I’d instilled them in you.’
Irene was blisteringly honest. ‘What good are moral standards when your father drags you from a decent life in a proper home into a kind of hell? What use are they when you’re a mere servant and your master starts to molest you? Do you know what it’s like to be at the mercy of lecherous old men?’ she demanded. ‘Do you know what it’s like to be treated like an unpaid prostitute? That’s what you did to me. That’s the sort of father you were.’
Adnam was hurt. ‘I did my best for you, Irene.’
‘The only person you ever thought about was yourself.’
‘It was your mother,’ he whimpered. ‘When she died, I lost my way. One thing led to another. It wasn’t my fault, Irene.’
‘You turned me into someone else’s slave and I’ll never forgive you for that. I had two choices,’ said Irene, temper colouring her cheeks. ‘I could either submit or I could fight back. I could either let my employers use my body whenever they wished or I could steal what I wanted from them and run away.’
‘So you turned into a thief.’
‘It was the only way I could survive, Father.’
His eyes began to water and another coughing fit seized him. When the pain finally eased, he looked at her with a disgust laced heavily with curiosity.
‘When will you go?’ he asked.
‘At the end of the week.’
‘Where will you sail from?’
‘Liverpool.’
‘Who are you travelling with? Is it that man, Oxley?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, irritably. ‘The point is that I’m going out of your life for ever. I’d hoped we could have a proper farewell.’
‘Ha!’
‘You’re still my father. I came here to give you some money.’
Adnam’s expression slowly changed. The look of contempt in his eyes was eventually replaced by a glint of self-interest. He despised what she’d done and was glad that she was going far away from him, but he was too wretched to be able to refuse the offer of money, even from such a tainted source. After wrestling with his conscience for a while, he eventually got the better of it.
‘How much money?’ he asked.
Inspector Zachary Boone gave each of them a warm handshake. He had been warned by telegraph that Colbeck and Leeming would be coming to Manchester again and the message had contained a request for him. It had asked that Silas Adnam be brought to the police station for questioning. Boone had bad news for the visitors.
‘He’s not there, I’m afraid,’ he said.
‘Did your officers go to his lodging?’ asked Colbeck.
‘They did, Robert. They talked to everyone else in the house, to his neighbours and to the landlord of the pub where Adnam is well known. Nobody has any idea where he is. Or if they do,’ added Boone, corrugating his brow, ‘they’re not telling us. We don’t get much help from people in Deansgate. They think policemen are vermin.’
‘We have people like that in London,’ said Leeming. ‘They’d sooner die than be seen giving assistance to the police. We’re the enemy to them.’
‘There’s one possibility,’ suggested Colbeck. ‘Adnam is a very sick man. Since the time I was last here, he may even have died.’
‘I considered that,’ said Boone, ‘so I told my men to check on the local undertakers. None of them had been called to collect the body of Silas Adnam. He’s still alive.’
‘Then where is he? The fellow can’t have left Manchester. He’d have no money to do so. Unless…’
‘What are you thinking, Robert?’
‘His daughter got to him before your men did.’
Boone’s office was more cluttered than ever. Files had now been stacked on the floor and the desk was invisible beneath a blizzard of paperwork. He presided over the general anarchy with the confidence of a man who had everything supremely under command. In one deft movement, he plucked a telegraph from beneath a pile of documents.
‘All that this told me,’ he said, ‘was that you were coming to Manchester and that you needed to speak to Adnam. Could I have some more detail, Robert?’
‘How much do you already know?’
‘I read the London newspapers, so I know about the death of Constable Peebles. Such a pity — I liked him on sight.’ He smiled at Leeming. ‘I was a little more wary of you, Sergeant.’
‘I sometimes have that effect on people,’ said Leeming.
‘No offence intended.’
‘None is taken, Inspector. My face never wins friends.’
‘It does when people get to know you, Victor,’ said Colbeck, patting his shoulder. ‘But let me fill in the gaps in Zachary’s knowledge of the case. A lot has happened in the last few days.’
Amplifying the details given in the press, Colbeck told him about the flight of Oxley and Irene, the arrest of the two suspects and the abundance of information that had come in, enabling them to place the suspects at various hotels at specific times. Boone agreed that the fugitives might well consider emigration as their only viable option.
I think you’re right, Robert,’ he said. ‘If she’s about to shake the dust of this country off her shoes, Irene Adnam is very likely to pay a last visit to her father.’
‘There’s a big difference this time,’ noted Colbeck.
‘Is there?’
‘Yes, Zachary — her father knows the truth about her. When she kept supplying him with money, he was happy to believe the fiction that she worked as a governess. After all, he could take some credit for having got her the education that qualified her to take on such a post. Teaching the sons and daughters of the wealthy would seem to be a worthy occupation to someone who’d sunk as low as he has.’
‘If his daughter did go to see him,’ said Leeming, ‘how do you think Mr Adnam would react?’
‘I think he’d condemn what she did. Any father would.’
‘That would take her by surprise. Irene Adnam had no idea that you’d visited her father and laid the whole facts before him. She’d be expecting to be able to wear the same mask as before.’
Colbeck nodded. ‘That’s a good point, Victor.’
‘If he started yelling at her, she’d be very upset. Her first thought would be that he might even report her to the police.’
‘I don’t think he’d do that somehow.’
‘It’s a possibility she’d have to consider, sir,’ said Leeming, as he tried to imagine the confrontation between father and daughter. ‘If he did threaten to turn her in, what would she do?’
‘Get away from there as fast as she could,’ answered Boone.
‘That wouldn’t solve the problem. She’d have every policeman in Manchester looking for her. I’m wondering if she acted on impulse.’
Boone sniffed. ‘She’d never kill her own father, would she?’
‘We know that she’s capable of murder. If she was desperate, there’s no telling what she might do.’
‘I think it’s unlikely that she’d resort to violence,’ said Colbeck, mulling it over. ‘In her own way, she still loves her father. Otherwise, she’d have disowned him years ago. Anyway, why else bid him farewell unless she had a parting gift for him? If he decided to report her to the police, he wouldn’t get anything. That’s what it may come down to in the end,’ he concluded. ‘What price will he put on his silence?’
Two whole days and nights apart from Oxley had left Irene in a state of agitation. They’d arranged to meet on the third day in Liverpool. She spent the intervening time buying a cabin trunk and filling it with all the items she felt that she’d need to begin a new life in America. Without Oxley beside her to offer support, she began to lose heart. Far too many things could go wrong. What if her father made contact with the police, after all? What if Colbeck caught them before they sailed? What if Oxley made another serious mistake? Even if they did get safely away, what if the ship sank in a violent storm? What if they were refused entry to America? What if they were forced to return to England? Worst of all, she kept asking herself, what if Oxley failed to turn up? Supposing that he’d already fled the country on his own?
By the time that the third day dawned, she was convinced that their escape would somehow founder. Having spent the last night in a hotel in Liverpool, she had her trunk sent down to the harbour, more in hope than in certainty. A cab took her to the designated place. It was a windy day and, as she alighted from the vehicle, she had to put a hand to her hat to keep it on. She looked around for Oxley and was horrified to see that he was not there. He’d been very specific about the time and place of their reunion yet he had not turned up. That raised the question of whether he’d ever intended to. Had he waved the possibility of emigration in front of Irene solely to get rid of her? She would not be the first discarded mistress. She was keenly aware of that. Had the others also been tricked into thinking they were starting a new life abroad with him?
The longer she waited, the more she fretted. Standing on a corner near the harbour gates, she was also bothered by a succession of men who offered to carry her valise in order to ingratiate themselves with her. One drunken sailor even tried to steal a kiss. Irene pushed him away but the man lunged at her again. He did not even touch her this time. Oxley grabbed him from behind, spun him round then felled him with a punch to the jaw. As the sailor sagged to the ground, Oxley stepped over him and took Irene in his arms.
‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ he said, holding her close.
She was tearful. ‘I thought you weren’t coming.’
‘Have I ever deserted you before?’
‘No, Jerry, you haven’t.’
‘Then stop having such silly thoughts. I’m here now.’
‘When do we go aboard?’ she asked.
‘Fairly soon — they give us a medical examination.’
‘I sent my luggage on ahead, as you told me.’
‘I did the same.’ Arm around her, he led Irene through the harbour gates. ‘What have you been doing since I last saw you?’
‘I’ve been pining for you most of the time.’
‘That’s very flattering. Did you see your father?’
‘Yes, Jerry.’ She winced at the memory. ‘He knew.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘He knew what you and I had been doing. Inspector Colbeck told him so in person.’
Oxley stopped. ‘Colbeck spoke to your father? How on earth did he find out where he lived?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said, ‘but, then, I don’t know how he tracked us to Gordon and Susanna’s house. The one thing I do know is that he’s shadowing us wherever we go. We must get away from England for good, Jerry.’
‘We will,’ he promised, hustling her along again. ‘We’ll have three thousand miles between us and Inspector Colbeck. Even he would never try to follow us to America.’
Leeming was dismayed at having to spend two nights in Manchester while the search for Silas Adnam continued. He doubted whether they’d ever find the man in such a populous city. Colbeck insisted that they had to stay, arguing that Irene Adnam’s father might well hold a vital clue as to her whereabouts. Thinking about his wife and children, the sergeant was desperate to get back to London. Colbeck made a telling comment.
‘Do you want to go back empty-handed, Victor?’
‘I just want to go home.’
‘Would you like to admit that we failed? Imagine what the superintendent will say. Would you like to be the one to tell him?’
Leeming shuddered. ‘No, I wouldn’t, sir.’
‘Then we stay until we get a result.’
‘But that could take ages.’
‘Adnam is bound to turn up sooner or later.’
‘I think he’ll be found in a dark corner with his throat cut,’ said Leeming with a vivid gesture. ‘If his daughter gave him money, he’ll start waving it around. It won’t be long before someone seizes his chance. According to you, Adnam wouldn’t be able to defend himself.’
‘He’s too old and weak.’
‘And no use to us when he’s dead.’
‘Don’t be so pessimistic, Victor.’
‘I hate all this waiting, Inspector.’
The sergeant’s gloom was soon dispelled. He and Colbeck were sharing a room above an inn. They were on the point of leaving when a policeman came looking for them with an urgent summons from Inspector Boone. They hailed a cab and set off. When they reached the police station, they were shown straight into the inspector’s office. Hoping to find Silas Adnam there, Colbeck was disappointed.
‘Where is he, Zachary?’
‘Sleeping off his stupor,’ said Boone.
‘You found him, then?’
‘Yes, Robert. That was a good guess of yours. His daughter gave him a substantial amount of money and he decided to enjoy it while he still had the strength. Adnam cleaned himself up, went off to a better part of the city, bought some decent clothes for a change, then moved into a hotel and drank his way through bottle after bottle.’ Boone grinned. ‘I wish I had enough money to do that. Anyway,’ he went on, ‘Adnam caused so much disruption this morning that the hotel manager called in the police.’
‘Where is he now?’ asked Leeming.
‘He’s snoring to high heaven in one of our cells.’
‘We must speak to him,’ said Colbeck.
‘There’s no need, Robert,’ said Boone. ‘I discovered what you wanted to know. I caught Adnam in a lucid moment and shook the truth out of him. Oxley and his daughter are fleeing the country.’
‘From which port are they embarking?’
‘Liverpool.’
‘On which day are they sailing?’
‘He didn’t know that.’
‘Thank you, Zachary,’ said Colbeck, shaking his hand in gratitude. ‘You’ll have to excuse us. We need to get to Liverpool and hope that they haven’t left yet.’
After days of inertia, there was a burst of activity. The detectives made a frantic dash to the station, bought two tickets to Liverpool and spent the journey speculating on which country the fugitives had chosen as their new home. Jerked out of his pessimism, Leeming was exhilarated at the thought of finally catching up with Oxley and his accomplice. It was the tragic death of Ian Peebles that he was eager to avenge. Colbeck, too, nursed sad thoughts of the fallen detective but it was Helen Millington who remained uppermost in his mind. He was desperate to meet Irene Adnam to see just how closely she resembled the young woman to whom he’d once grown so close.
Arriving at the station, they ran to the cab rank and ordered a driver to take them to the harbour. Crowds of people were drifting away, suggesting that a ship had not long sailed and that friends and well-wishers were now dispersing. It was a bad omen. When they got to the pier, they saw a vessel gliding off down the Mersey. They were told that it was the Arethusa and that it was bound for New York. They both prayed that the fugitives were not aboard. While Colbeck went off to check on other recent sailings, Leeming stood on the pier with the wind plucking at his clothing and trying to dislodge his hat. He felt cheated. Something told him that Oxley and Irene Adnam were on the ship, sailing away from justice across the Atlantic Ocean. It was unfair. Leeming kicked a stone into the water out of frustration. After all the time and energy they’d put into the investigation, it was galling to see it collapse around them.
Colbeck eventually returned with a look of grim resignation.
‘What’s happened?’ asked Leeming.
‘They sailed on the Arethusa.’
‘Are you certain of that, sir?’
‘I’m absolutely certain.’
‘But they wouldn’t have used their own names, surely? That would have been far too dangerous.’
‘They appreciated that,’ said Colbeck, staring at the receding vessel. ‘They’re travelling as man and wife under a false name.’
‘And what name would that be, sir?’
‘It’s one that convinces me that it must be them, Victor.’
‘Oh?’
‘They are calling themselves Mr and Mrs Robert Colbeck.’