Steps to the Gallows (8 page)

‘What you have is a cock-and-bull story. It may not have a single grain of truth inside it. Don’t bother me again until you have credible evidence.’

The Runner crumpled inwardly. In calling on the chief magistrate, he’d hoped to set in motion a train of events that would end in the capture of the killer, earn him a handsome reward, gain the unstinting approbation of Kirkwood, bolster his reputation in the criminal fraternity and, most telling of all, melt Diane
Mandrake’s icy disregard of him and bring her within his reach. None of that seemed likely now. As he left the room in despair, he felt that the woman on whom he’d set his heart was slipping irretrievably through his fingers.

The first thing he heard when he reached the gallery was the familiar sound of gunfire. Huckvale was delighted to be back in the safety of his home and place of work. He was finally at ease. The feeling, however, did not last long. When he went to relieve Peter Skillen of his duties, he came upon an extraordinary sight. The person firing at the target with such accuracy was not a man, as he’d expected, but Diane Mandrake. Huckvale was open-mouthed as he was introduced to her. Realising that he’d been injured while acting as Paige’s bodyguard, she gushed with sympathy.

‘Oh, you poor, dear fellow,’ she said with maternal concern, ‘you shouldn’t be abroad in that state. By rights, you should be in bed with someone at hand to nurse you back to full health.’

‘I’m bound to agree, Jem,’ said Peter.

‘I wanted to come back,’ explained Huckvale. ‘I can’t offer instruction in fencing or boxing – still less in archery – but I can teach people how to fire a pistol properly. That will set you free.’

‘Thank you. I appreciate that.’

‘There’s nothing you can teach
me
about using a pistol,’ said Diane. ‘My father was a gunsmith and I grew up helping him to test the weapons he made. Mother always thought it too unladylike a pastime but I loved it. Well, now,’ she continued, ‘if you spurned the attentions of Peter’s servants, you won’t be without someone to take care of you. I’ll make it my task to act as your physician. Gully Ackford will have told you that I am to work alongside you all. Leo Paige was a very special friend
of mine and I’ll commit every hour of the day to the search for his killer.’

‘Let’s leave him for now,’ said Peter, seeing that Huckvale was positively dazed by her attention. ‘Jem will soon have to deal with a client in here.’

Before she could object, he guided her out of the shooting gallery, collecting a look of gratitude from Huckvale on the way. Diane Mandrake had made a deep impression on him and it had been a blistering experience. The thought that he’d rejected the gentle care of Meg Rooke only to be enfolded in the capacious bosom of an overpowering woman made Huckvale’s head throb violently. He saw trouble ahead for himself and for the investigation. While he would be under her thumb as an unwilling patient, the work of the others would be imperilled by someone with no experience of what was involved in the pursuit of dangerous criminals. On balance, he wished that he’d stayed in the comfort of a bed at Peter’s house. At least he hadn’t felt so threatened by female tenderness there. In returning to the gallery, he’d been too impulsive. A sense of loss welled up inside him. He missed Meg Rooke. She seemed a hundred miles away now.

The aspect of his work that Chevy Ruddock least enjoyed was the necessity of lying to his wife. She was a good, kind, loving person and he hated having to deceive her. It was necessary, however, to conceal from her the hazards of his life on foot patrol. London had a large, volatile, highly active criminal community and he moved among it every day. His latest assignment was of a slightly different order. He had to keep watch that night outside a fashionable brothel and couldn’t bring himself to be honest with his wife about his unwanted duty. He therefore fell back on the kind of blatant lie that was second nature to people like Yeomans and Hale but
which still had the power to disturb Ruddock. When he arrived at the appointed place in Covent Garden, he took his misgivings with him.

His vigil got off to a bad start. Rain began to fall, obliging him to move into a doorway from which he could keep the house under surveillance. From the vulgar remarks he’d heard passing between Yeomans and Hale, he believed that it was the most sinful establishment in a city that had a vast number of places serving the perverted desires of lecherous men. Coaches and carriages came at regular intervals to deposit clients at the door, where they were met, with great deference, by a big, burly man who seemed to know most of them. Ruddock could only begin to imagine what was happening inside the house. Even being so close to the place was enough to make his cheeks burn.

His attention was soon diverted by the sight of a shadowy figure, making his way along the street by dodging from doorway to doorway to keep out of the rain. Ruddock was alerted. The sailors who, reportedly, had visited the house on the previous night had done so on foot, whereas the majority of clients arrived there by private transport. Could this be the very man they were after? Was he returning for another night of bestial abandon? Ruddock had been warned simply to follow the man back to his lodging before calling on reinforcements but that was because he’d been with an accomplice before. He was now alone. If he could be arrested outside the house, it would not only spare one of its occupants a revolting ordeal, it would put more than a single feather in Ruddock’s cap. Thrilled by the prospect, he drew back in the doorway and got ready to pounce.

The closer the man got, the more convinced was Ruddock that the killer was hurrying towards him. Since he had the advantage of surprise, he felt that he could overpower the man without
difficulty. He could hear the footsteps getting closer and closer. Arms at the ready, he waited for the moment to strike. When the stranger finally ducked into the doorway occupied by Ruddock, he was grabbed by his shoulders and pushed hard against the pillar supporting the portico.

‘You’re under arrest!’ declared Ruddock, stoutly.

‘What, in the bowels of Christ, are you doing?’ roared Yeomans.

He was released at once. The younger man gabbled his apologies.

‘I thought you were going to the house, sir.’

‘That’s where I
am
going.’

Ruddock was shocked. ‘Do you mean that you’re a …?’ The word died on his tongue. ‘Have you no respect for your marriage vows, Mr Yeomans?’

‘I’m not here as a client, you fool!’ snarled the other. ‘I came in search of evidence. I need to speak to the doorman and converse with Doll Fortune.’

‘But she’s the lady who—’

‘I know full well who and what she is, Ruddock. Obey your orders, man. Keep your eyes peeled for the two people who came here last night. And whatever you do,’ he cautioned, ‘don’t try to arrest them – watch, wait and follow.’

‘Watch, wait and follow,’ echoed Ruddock.

‘I want no more heroics from you. It will ruin my plan.’

Ruddock nodded respectfully. Without warning, Yeomans hurried across the road to the house under observation and spoke to the doorman. Moments later, he was ushered inside. Secure in his hiding place, Ruddock was left to wonder if Yeomans was really there to seek evidence or to sample the exotic fare on offer. His cheeks began to burn with more intensity.

Peter and Paul Skillen, meanwhile, were poring over copies of the newspaper once more. Even on a second reading, they could produce a lot of smiles and chuckles. They were at Peter’s house and his brother was still dressed as the bricklayer he’d claimed to be. As she came into the room, Charlotte was startled.

‘Good heavens!’ she exclaimed. ‘Is that
you
, Paul?’

‘No,’ he replied, ‘I’m an itinerant beggar who popped in for a meal.’

‘I don’t think you’d let Hannah see you looking like that.’

‘She prefers you in full fig,’ said Peter. ‘You were at your best last year when posing as the Duke of Wellington. You’ve been reduced to the ranks now.’

Paul nodded. ‘I’ll wear any costume if it helps us to get close to Abel Fearon.’ He put down his newspaper and turned to Charlotte. ‘We’ve been taking another look at
Paige’s Chronicle
.’

‘I couldn’t resist doing that myself,’ she admitted.

‘The same names keep popping up all the time.’

‘I know them off by heart, Paul. Our list comprises Sir Humphrey Coote, Gerard Brunt, Julian Harvester, Dr Guy Penhallurick and Lord Elphinstone.’

‘We’ve eliminated one of the suspects, Charlotte.’

‘Oh – who is that?’

‘It’s the last name on your list – Lord Elphinstone.’

‘It was Mrs Mandrake’s doing,’ explained Peter. ‘She knows the fellow. For all his faults, she attests, he would never condone violence. We’re able to concentrate our fire on the other four gentlemen, and now that Jem is back at the gallery, we have the freedom to do so.’

‘He should have stayed here,’ said Charlotte with concern.

‘He’s where he prefers to be, my love. At least, he was until he met Mrs Mandrake. He was horrified when she offered to mother him.’

‘Meg was equally horrified when she saw Jem leave.’

‘There’s one advantage. You won’t be woken up by the sound of him sneaking off on tiptoe to the privy in the middle of the night.’

‘Let’s go back to that list of suspects,’ said Paul. ‘I’ve heard of Sir Humphrey Coote and his antics before. The other names were new to me but not to Mr Paige. He had great fun lampooning them.’

‘Gerard Brunt, as you’ve seen, is another politician,’ said Peter, ‘and he’s best described as a man on the rise. I’ve met him when I’ve been with the Home Secretary and he struck me as the kind of oily, ingratiating parasite who’s dedicated himself to the search for power. While some achieve it on merit, Brunt will only acquire it by sycophancy.’

‘Dr Penhallurick is the man who intrigues me,’ remarked Charlotte. ‘As a medical man, he’s sworn to save lives. Could he really be party to a murder plot?’

‘He could if you believe the
Chronicle
. Penhallurick is physician to the high and mighty and has even been consulted by His Majesty, the Prince Regent.’

‘And yet Mr Paige denounces him as a quack.’

‘He must have had good cause to do so.’

‘Somehow I don’t see him hiring an assassin, Peter.’

‘Why not?’

‘Well,’ she said, pensively, ‘if he was minded to kill someone – and that’s very much open to question – he wouldn’t need to get someone else to do it. With his knowledge of poisons, he could have contrived a way to dispatch Mr Paige with a lethal concoction.’

‘Poison is usually a female prerogative,’ said Paul with a teasing smile. ‘It all depends on how offended Dr Penhallurick was by the attack on him. If he was enraged by it, he might have wanted the
victim to suffer a brutal death followed by the destruction of his papers.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Peter, ‘we must bear the fire in mind. Someone was bent on burning anything else intended for the
Parliament of Foibles
. That’s why there has to be a political connection to the murder. Penhallurick qualifies there, I suspect. He’s the physician to a third of the cabinet.’

‘So far we have two politicians and a highly regarded medical man. That leaves Julian Harvester. He was portrayed as a real ogre in the
Chronicle
.’

‘That’s rightly so, in my opinion, Paul. Harvester exemplifies the random capriciousness of the rich. When one of his tenants had the courage to defy him, Harvester not only had the man and his family driven from the estate. Out of spite, he had everyone else evicted from their tied cottages. According to the
Chronicle
,’ added Peter, ‘he was guilty of far worse than that. He once had a whole village moved three miles to a less desirable location because, he claimed, it spoilt his view. Think of the immense upheaval that must have caused to all those families.’

‘What’s the political connection this time, Peter?’ asked Charlotte.

‘It comes from vast inherited wealth, my love. Harvester doesn’t need to sit in the House of Commons because he has a whole bevy of Members in his pocket. When he barks an order, they jump to attention.’

‘Our prime suspect must remain Sir Humphrey,’ asserted Paul. ‘While I’m trying to find Abel Fearon, someone must go after the politician.’

‘I’ll take a closer look at all of them,’ said Peter.’

‘Isn’t there something you should do first?’ asked Charlotte.

‘What’s that?’

‘Well, I can see that you’re desperate to track down the killer and link him to his paymaster but there’s someone you seem to have forgotten. He’s a person who might be able to help you the most.’

‘To whom do you refer?’ asked Paul.

‘I’m thinking about the man who was Mr Paige’s partner – Virgo.’

Gully Ackford flopped into a chair in his office and offered up a silent word of thanks to his Maker. After hours in her company, he’d finally got rid of Diane Mandrake. While she had sterling qualities, she was oddly reminiscent of an army of occupation. In the case of Jem Huckvale, she inspired a sense of lasting panic. Her one-woman invasion of the gallery was over for one day. Ackford could relax and reflect on events. He was soon joined by Huckvale who had just seen their last client off the premises. In his hand, he was carrying a letter.

‘As I was locking up,’ he explained, ‘I found this. There’s no name on it.’

‘Then I’ll assume that it’s for me,’ said Ackford, taking the missive from him. It took only seconds to read it. ‘Peter and Paul must see this immediately.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s from Virgo.’

Micah Yeomans made a swift assessment of Dirk Poyesdon, the doorman. The latter was slow of speech and possessed of minimal intelligence but, when he told his story, it had the ring of truth to it. Yeomans was convinced that the man had almost certainly met with the murder suspect and his confederate. Bearing in mind what the chief magistrate had decreed, he went in search of additional evidence and that meant questioning Doll Fortune, the owner of the house and its alluring occupants. Though displeased to see him, she conducted him into her private domain, a large room with a beautiful Turkish carpet in it and a prevailing opulence. Half-hidden by a decorated silk screen was a daybed on which she entertained favoured clients from time to time.

Doll Fortune was the opposite in every way to Diane Mandrake. She was short, slim, sinuous and, even in her forties, had a youthful bloom that disguised her innate ruthlessness. A lover of ostentation, she wore a full-length dress of red velvet with puffed sleeves and a low décolletage that exposed enough of her perfumed breasts to command curiosity. They certainly gained the attention of Yeomans but only fleetingly. Now that he’d met Diane, all women were found wanting beside her.

‘Why are you bothering me, Micah?’ asked Doll, truculently.

‘I need some help.’

‘You know my charges. Pay up or get out.’

‘Don’t be so churlish, Doll.’

‘If it’s
my
services you seek, then you can take yourself off. I’m in a position to pick and choose and – with the greatest respect – I’d never pick and choose you.’

He smirked. ‘Compliments pass sweetly among friends.’

‘What are you after?’

He looked around the room. ‘You’ve done well for yourself,’ he said. ‘I remember a time when you were to be seen on street corners, hawking your wares for all and sundry to buy. Then you began to haunt theatre foyers and tempt more moneyed clients. Now you have your own stable of thoroughbred mares and a growing notoriety.’

‘Say what you’re here for, Micah.’

‘I was just remarking on how much work you had to put in on your back to fulfil your ambitions. Having built up this little empire, it would be such a shame if you had to lose it.’

‘Are you threatening me?’

‘I’m just reminding you of the wisdom of cooperating with the law.’

‘I’m cooperating with it of my own free will. At this very moment, one of my girls is probably milking the epididymis of a senior member of the judiciary. That’s how I would define cooperation. It’s not
my
position that’s at risk – it’s yours. I have access to loyal friends in high places who could have a Runner dismissed at the snap of his finger. Now be on your way, Micah. You can’t afford to slake your lust here.’

‘There’s no need to be so harsh,’ he said, adopting a conciliatory tone. ‘I came for the pleasure of seeing you again and because
I’m on the trail of a killer. Your doorman tells me you had some unwelcome clients last night.’

‘Then he’ll be lucky to keep his job. Nobody tells tales here.’

‘One of your ladies did – a certain Kate Castle. I’d like to talk to her.’

‘That’s out of the question.’

‘You’re welcome to be present, Doll.’

‘Kate is not even here tonight.’

‘Why is that?’ For the first time, she looked uneasy. ‘Ah, so that’s the explanation, is it? Because she was so badly mauled last night, she’s not fit to work here today. That partly confirms the doorman’s story. Why don’t you tell me the rest of it? We want to put this man and his vile friend on the scaffold. Wouldn’t you enjoy seeing the pair of them swinging in the wind?’

‘I’d sit there and throw rotten fruit at them.’

‘There we are, then. You and I are on the same side, Doll.’

She turned her back on him and walked around the room as she reviewed the situation. Biting her lip, she waved him to a chair and sat opposite him.

‘The first thing you must know,’ she began, ‘is that I was not here last night. I was … entertaining elsewhere. Had I been on duty, those horrible men would never have crossed the threshold. They treated two of my finest girls like pieces of meat. I’ve seen the injuries inflicted on Kate. She won’t be fit to work again for weeks.’

‘Who were they?’

‘All I know is what I’ve been told.’

Doll gave him an abbreviated account of what had taken place. It tallied very much with what the doorman had heard but included some new, disturbing details. Of their occupation, there was no doubt. The clients admitted that they were sailors, abroad
after a long voyage and desperate to lie between the thighs of a warm woman again. It was only because they had full purses that they were allowed in.

‘We’ve been regretting it ever since, Micah.’

‘What if they should return?’

‘The doorman has orders to turn them away – as he should have done the first time. He’s in disgrace for admitting them last night and his wage will be docked. I’ll not have thugs mistreating my girls.’

‘Did you get a description of them, Doll?’

‘All I know is that they were black-hearted bastards with no respect for the beauty of the female body. That’s as much as I can tell you – except that one of them gave his name.’

‘Really?’ said Yeomans, excitably. ‘What was it?’

‘Leonidas Paige.’

It was late for someone to call. When she heard the doorbell ring, Meg Rooke was curious to see who it was. She was surprised and pleased to find Jem Huckvale standing self-consciously on the threshold.

‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I’m so glad that you came back to us, Mr Huckvale.’

‘I’m not here to stay.’

Her smile congealed. ‘That’s a pity.’

‘May I come in?’

‘Yes, yes, of course – Mr and Mrs Skillen are still up, and Mr Paul Skillen is here.’ She stood back. ‘You’ll know where to find them.’

Huckvale removed his hat and stepped into the house. As he brushed against Meg’s arm, he felt a frisson of pleasure. For her part, she was saddened to see once again the heavy bandaging
around his head. According to medical advice, the injury should have kept him in bed for several days.

After tapping on the door, Huckvale opened it and went in to join the others. Charlotte rose to her feet and made the same mistaken assumption as the servant. She was disappointed to hear that he would not be staying the night.

‘I only came to deliver a message,’ he said.

‘Then it must be an important one.’

‘Gully said that it was very important. He wanted to bring it himself but I insisted on coming so that I can be part of the investigation instead of being on the outside of it.’ He took the letter from his pocket. ‘I don’t know if I should give this to Peter or Paul. There’s no name on it so Gully opened it. He said that both of you should see it at once.’

The brothers reached out their hands simultaneously. Everyone laughed. Peter withdrew his hand and nodded at his brother.

‘You read it, Paul.’

‘Thank you.’

Taking the letter, Paul opened it and glanced at the brief contents.

‘It’s from Virgo,’ he revealed.

‘What does he say?’ asked Peter.

‘He wants one of us to meet him tomorrow.’

‘Then we must oblige him.’

‘Gully would rather not take on the office,’ Huckvale put in. ‘We’ve a busy day at the gallery tomorrow and all I can do is to instruct people in shooting. It will have to be one or both of you.’

‘We must divide our time,’ said Peter. ‘I’d planned to visit Sir Humphrey Coote to see what I could learn about him. After that, there are three other suspects who deserve close study.’

‘It looks as if I should go, then,’ said Paul. ‘I’m glad to do so.
Ever since we learnt that Mr Paige was not Virgo, I’ve wondered who the artist really was.’

‘So has Mrs Mandrake.’

Paul was adamant. ‘If you’re suggesting that I take her with me, then I refuse point-blank. Virgo has hidden his identity very well for a long time. There’s a reason for that. If he sees me arriving with someone else, he’ll probably turn tail at once. It’s a situation that needs careful handling.’

‘Say no more, Paul, you must go alone and win his trust.’

‘His or
her
trust,’ Charlotte interjected.

Peter smiled indulgently. ‘My wife has this weird idea that Virgo is a woman.’

‘It’s not that weird, Peter. In many ways, given the opportunity, we can compete on equal terms with men. It might explain why Virgo is so secretive. She prefers to hide her light under a bushel.’

‘One thing is certain. He or she knows that Mr Paige has been murdered. That’s why Virgo has reached out to us.’ Peter turned to his brother. ‘Where will the meeting take place, Paul?’

‘I’m to stand outside the King’s Bench Prison.’

The rain had stopped in Covent Garden but Yeomans was not even aware of it. He came out of the house in a state of heightened satisfaction. What he’d been told had, in his view, confirmed the fact that the killer had been an unwelcome client on the previous night. Only someone as evil as the man obviously was would use the name of the person he’d murdered. It was all the evidence that the Runner needed. Crossing the road, he went over to Chevy Ruddock.

‘The men we’re after
were
here last night,’ said Yeomans.

Ruddock was suspicious. ‘You were in there a long time, sir.’

‘I had to speak to Doll Fortune.’

‘Is that all that happened?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You seem to be … very happy, sir.’

‘I’m extremely happy, Ruddock. I got exactly what I wanted.’

The younger man said nothing but his censure was unmistakable. He was both appalled and disappointed. Thinking that Yeomans had taken advantage of what the house offered, he could not even look the older man in the eye. It was a moment of disillusion for him because he’d always admired the Runner.

Yeomans was quick to correct the younger man’s misapprehension.

‘You don’t seriously think that …? Clearly, you
do
and that’s insulting to me. I would no more pay for my pleasure than I would sell my grandmother to a slave-trader. I went in there to gather evidence and – thanks to Doll Fortune – I have it. One of the men who inflicted themselves on the house last night was indeed the killer. He even had the gall to use the name of the victim as his own.’

‘That’s outrageous, sir.’

‘It shows you the kind of person he is, Ruddock. We must catch him.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘There’s no guarantee that he’ll return, of course,’ said Yeomans, ‘but we must be ready for that eventuality. You’ll stay on duty until first light.’

Ruddock blanched. ‘What about my wife?’

‘This is no place for her. Remain here on your own.’

‘I wasn’t asking if she could join me, sir. I’m just wondering how I can explain why I was away all night.’

‘Tell her that you were helping to rid the city of two arch-criminals.’

‘She’ll be expecting me back sooner than first light.’

‘A wife must learn to expect you when she sees you. Mine did years ago.’

‘Will you tell her that you went into a brothel tonight?’ Hearing an angry growl, Ruddock spluttered an apology. ‘No, no, of course not – and, in any case, it’s none of my business.’ Yeomans was about to turn away. ‘One moment, sir,’ he said. ‘If the suspects do turn up tonight, and if I follow them when they come out again, where can I reach you and Mr Hale?’

‘The first thing you must know is that they’ll be refused entry. When they’re turned away, they’ll be angry and disappointed so you must be careful. They may go on to another brothel, of course, in which case you’ll wait and watch outside that.’

‘Where will you be all this time?’

‘Mr Hale and I will be at the Peacock.’

‘Surely, it will be closed by then?’

Yeomans grinned. ‘It’s always open for us.’

Before he rode back to his own house, Paul Skillen changed back into his normal attire. He was pleased that Virgo had been in touch with them and intrigued by Charlotte’s suggestion that the cartoonist might, in fact, be female. Short and explicit, the letter had been written by a graceful hand that might support the notion. It was difficult for women to make their way into certain professions and some resorted to male names in order to do so. Had a lady chosen the ambiguous name of Virgo in order to disguise her gender? Paul was anxious to find out.

Having stabled his horse, he was admitted by Timothy Crabbe, his wiry, old, manservant. Paul handed him his hat, gloves and riding crop and went into the drawing room. Holding it near the candle, he read the letter once more.

Crabbe appeared at his shoulder. ‘You had a visitor earlier on, sir.’

‘Who was that, pray?’

‘He gave his name as Gregory Lomas.’

‘Did he have a message for me?’ asked Paul.

‘Yes, sir, and it was an urgent one. Mr Lomas was breathless when he got here and distressed that you were not at home.’

‘What did he have to report?’

‘A man turned up at the house earlier to speak to Mr Paige, unaware that the gentleman had departed this life. When he was told the grim news, the caller pushed Mr Lomas aside, rushed upstairs to Mr Paige’s room and searched in an oak chest. He was furious when he saw that it was empty.’

‘Did Mr Lomas know the intruder?’

‘Oh, yes, sir – he’s been to the house before.’

‘Then he must be the tall man with the aspect of a soldier.’

‘That’s correct, Mr Skillen. Unfortunately, he has never given his name to the landlord and nor did Mr Paige.’

‘This is interesting news,’ said Paul. ‘I must remember to thank Mr Lomas for passing it on. Am I the only recipient of it?’

‘I believe so, sir. Mr Lomas said that he came to you at once.’

‘Why was that?’

‘He trusted you, Mr Skillen.’

Paul was touched. He’d felt very sorry for Lomas and his wife. They were decent people with contented lives that had been shattered by the events in an upstairs room at their house. It had left them in a state of heightened anxiety.

‘The Runners must also have been there.’

‘Mr Lomas didn’t take to them at all, sir.’

‘Why was that?’