‘I, meanwhile, will visit Bond Street to speak to Daniel Slender’s tailor. He will be able to tell me precisely when the suit was ordered and give me some idea of what manner of man his customer was.’
‘A foolish one.’
‘Mr Slender was offered a large amount of money to create a new life for himself,’ said Colbeck, tolerantly. ‘That would be a temptation for anyone in his position. It was too much for William Ings to resist as well.’
‘Did you speak to his wife, sir?’
‘First thing this morning.’
‘How did she receive the news that she was now a widow?’
‘Very bravely,’ replied Colbeck. ‘Mark you, Mrs Ings does have something to console her in her bereavement.’
‘And what’s that?’
‘The best part of two hundred pounds, Victor. The money was put through her letterbox last night by an anonymous hand.’
‘Two hundred pounds?’ said Leeming in astonishment. ‘That’s a substantial amount. Who is her benefactor?’
‘William Ings.’
‘Her husband?’
‘Indirectly,’ said Colbeck. ‘My feeling is that the money paid to him for providing information was given to his wife after his death. The man who authorised payment clearly knew that Maud Ings would be left destitute by her husband’s demise. He sought to help her.’
‘Murdering her husband is hardly a way to help.’
‘Perhaps he is trying to make amends. Do you see what we have here, Victor? A ruthless killer with a conscience. That’s a weakness.’
‘What about the money paid to Daniel Slender?’
‘That has doubtless been repossessed,’ said Colbeck, ‘because he had no family to whom it could be left. Mr Ings did. However, when I told her where her gift came from, his wife was not at all sure that she should keep it.’
‘Why not?’
‘She thought that it was tainted money.’
‘It could not have come from the proceeds of the robbery.’
‘That’s what I said to her. In the end, I persuaded her that she had every right to keep the money. Incidentally,’ he went on, lowering his voice, ‘this is not something that needs to come to the ears of Mr Tallis. He would be certain to misunderstand and might even argue that the money should be taken from the widow.’
‘That would be unfair.’
‘Then say nothing, Victor. I speak to you in confidence.’
‘It would have been very helpful had you done that before,’ said Leeming, as he recalled his bruising encounter with the Superintendent. ‘You should have told me that you were thinking of employing Mulryne.’
‘You would only have tried to talk me out of it.’
‘I would, Inspector. No question about that.’
‘Brendan has his uses.’
‘With respect, sir, that’s beside the point. You kept me ignorant.’
‘Only as a means of defending you from Mr Tallis.’
‘You did the opposite,’ protested Leeming. ‘You exposed me to his anger. He demanded to know if you’d discussed your intentions with me and I was forced to lie in order to cover for you.’
‘Thank you, Victor. I appreciate that.’
‘I can’t say that I appreciated being put in that position, sir.’
‘You have my profound apologies,’ said Colbeck. ‘I may have expected too much of Brendan Mulryne. I accept the blame for that. But,’ he continued, glancing down at the body once more, ‘let us put that mistake behind us. So far, we have a train robbery and two murders to investigate. What we must try to do is to anticipate their next move.’
‘To kill their source at the Royal Mint?’
‘If there is such a person.’
‘There is, Inspector. I feel it in my bones.’
‘What I believe is that they will not just sit back and enjoy the fruits of their crime. They want more than the money they stole.’
Leeming pointed a finger. ‘Those mail bags.’
‘Exactly,’ said Colbeck. ‘Why go to the trouble of stealing them if there was no profit to be made from their contents? Yes, Victor. I think that it’s only a matter of time before we hear about some of the mail that went astray.’
After luncheon at his club, Lord Holcroft decided to take a walk in Hyde Park for the benefit of his constitution. Accompanied by a friend, he set out at a brisk pace and gave his views on the political affairs of the day. His friend concurred with all that he said. Lord Holcroft was an imposing figure in his dark frock coat, light trousers and silk hat. Now almost sixty, he had the energy of a much younger man and a zest for debate that was indefatigable. He was expressing his reservations about the impending Great Exhibition when someone stepped out from behind a tree to accost him.
‘Lord Holcroft?’ he inquired.
‘Who might you be, sir?’ said the other, glaring at the newcomer.
‘I’d like a quiet word with you about a certain person.’
‘Stand aside, fellow. I never talk to strangers.’
‘Even when he has news about Miss Grayle?’ whispered the other so that Holcroft’s companion did not hear the name. ‘Two minutes of your valuable time is all that I ask.’
Lord Holcroft studied the man. Tall, well-dressed and wearing a full beard, the stranger was in his thirties. He had a look in his eye that was politely menacing. Excusing himself from his friend, Holcroft stepped aside to speak to the newcomer. He tried to browbeat him.
‘How dare you interrupt my walk like this!’ he growled. ‘Who are you and what’s your business?’
‘I came to save you from embarrassment,’ said the man, calmly. ‘A letter has fallen into our hands that casts an unflattering light on your character. It is written by you to a Miss Anna Grayle, who lives close to Birmingham, and it expresses sentiments that are quite improper for a married man such as yourself.’
‘The letter is a forgery,’ snapped Holcroft.