The Repentant Rake (37 page)

    'Yes,
Mr Bale. The hand was identical to that which penned the second letter to
Henry. A different correspondent wrote the original demand. Someone with a
bolder and more looping style.'

    'So
we are looking for two people.'

    'Three,
at least,' corrected Christopher. 'You forget my midnight companion. He did not
strike me as the kind of man who dashes off a neat letter. His task is to carry
out the threats, not to frame them in the first place.'

    'How
long do you think he was following you?'

    'From
the time we left that gaming house, probably. Henry and I were too busy talking
to notice him and he could hardly make his move while we were together. No,' he
said running a finger round his sore neck, 'my guess is that he lurked outside
the house when we called on Peter Wickens. Then he shadowed us all the way back
and waited until I was on my own.'

    'But
why attack you, Mr Redmayne? Your brother received the death threat.'

    'I'm
the one investigating the murder. Being ambushed like that was not the most
pleasant experience,' said Christopher, 'but there is one compensation.'

    'You
survived.'

    'That
was an additional bonus. No, Mr Bale, we should take it as a sign that we are
making good progress. They know that we are after them and sense that we are
closing in. That's why I was attacked,' he concluded. 'They are afraid.'

    Before
Jonathan could reply, he heard the front door opening and the sound of
footsteps in the hall. Jacob had returned. Christopher was about to rebuke his
servant when someone else came into the room ahead of him. Susan Cheever made
no attempt to hide the affection beneath her anxiety. Hurrying across to his
chair, she looked down at Christopher with consternation.

    'Jacob
tells me that you were attacked, Mr Redmayne,' she said.

    Astonished
to see her, all that Christopher could manage was a nod. He tried to catch
Jacob's eye but the servant slipped off into the kitchen without looking at
him. Susan was taking a rapid inventory of his face and neck. She winced when
she saw his raw knuckles.

    'Are
you badly hurt?'

    'No,'
he said, relishing her proximity. 'I'll live to fight another day. But do sit
down, Miss Cheever. You know Mr Bale, of course.'

    Susan
gave the constable a nod of recognition. When she came into the room, Jonathan
had risen to his feet. As she sat down, he resumed his seat. Susan had not come
to see him. Her attention was fixed solely on Christopher.

    'What
happened?' she said. 'Jacob would not give me any details.'

    'I do
not remember very much,' replied Christopher. 'It was over in a flash.'

    'I do
not believe you. Tell me the truth.'

    He
blinked at her directness. 'There is not much to tell.'

    'Yes,
there is,' she insisted. 'You did not get those injuries in the space of a few
seconds. I think that you are trying to fob me off again, Mr Redmayne. Have you
so soon forgotten your promise to tell me everything?'

    'Mr
Bale has heard it all before. It would bore him.'

    'Not
at all,' said Jonathan. 'I'd be glad to listen again, sir. Some small details
may emerge that you forgot the first time. I am used to taking statements and I
always make witnesses go over the story at least twice. There is usually
something new that comes out and it is often crucial.'

    Christopher
turned back to Susan. Worried and attentive, she was also determined to hear
the full truth. He could not hold things back from her again. Making light of
the courage he had shown, he gave her a lucid account of the attack and assured
her that his injuries looked far worse than they really were. Susan was not
reassured.

    'We
are to blame for this,' she said guiltily. 'If you had not been trying to help
my family, you would have been perfectly safe.'

    'I'm
acting on behalf of my brother as well, remember.'

    'Someone
tried to kill you, Mr Redmayne. I feel responsible.'

    'Needlessly.'

    'You
took the most appalling risks to track down the man who murdered Gabriel.'

    'He
tracked
me
down, Miss Cheever.'

    'That's
what alarms me.'

    Christopher
did his best to calm her down and Jonathan repeated his pledge to act as a
bodyguard in future. She was only partially mollified. Jacob came into the room
and stood beside his master.

    'Shall
I bring in some refreshments, sir?' he enquired.

    'What
I need from you,' said Christopher, 'is an explanation.'

    The
old man beamed. 'Do you have a complaint, sir?'

    'No,
Jacob, but I want you to follow instructions in future.'

    'I
felt that Miss Cheever ought to know what had transpired.'

    'Thank
you,' she said. 'I'm very grateful to you, Jacob.'

    Christopher
smiled. 'Well, yes,' he said on reflection. 'I suppose that I, too, am
grateful. Perhaps you acted wisely, after all.'

    Jacob
was basking in their approval when there was a loud knock at the door. He
hurried out into the hall to see who had called. He returned almost at once and
handed a letter to Christopher.

    'This
is from your brother, sir,' he said. 'His servant awaits your answer.'

    Breaking
the seal, Christopher read the brief note and got to his feet.

    'Tell
him that we will come immediately.' While Jacob went off to relay the message
to the servant, Christopher turned to Susan. 'Forgive us, Miss Cheever. We will
have to leave you for a while. But do please remain here. We may have important
news for you when we return.' He smiled at Jonathan. 'Give me a few minutes to
get properly dressed and I'll gladly employ your services as a bodyguard.'

    Sir
Marcus Kemp moved between recrimination and dejection with no intervening stage.
One minute, he was berating the Redmayne brothers; the next, he was imploring
Henry to come to his aid. His lightning shifts of mood were bewildering. The
two men were in the parlour of the house in Bedford Street. Shaved dressed and
wearing his wig, Henry felt in a better position to cope with his ambivalent
visitor. Kemp's plight somehow made his own troubles seem less immediate.

    'In
your position, I'd refuse to pay the thousand guineas,' he said airily.

    'Even
if it means public vilification and certain divorce?'

    'Play
for time, Marcus.'

    'The
letter insists on immediate payment.'

    'Then
give this bloodsucker a small amount by way of deposit and tell him that you
will pay the rest in instalments. Yes,' said Henry, pleased with the notion,
'that will remove the threat and give you space in which to breathe. It will
also give my brother more time to hunt this villain to his lair.'

    'As
long as he does not offer to hand over my money again,' said Kemp with
asperity. 'I can do without any assistance from Christopher Redmayne.'

    'But
he is only our hope.'

    'Then
we are truly doomed.'

    'Have
more faith in him. After all, he is a Redmayne.'

    'That
means he has the mark of failure on him.'

    Henry
was offended. 'The Redmayne family is known for its resilience.'

    'It
has brought me nothing but misery,' insisted the other, lapsing back into deep
gloom. 'There is no hope. The net is closing in remorselessly.' The sound of
the doorbell injected some rancour back into him. 'That will be your brother
now,' he said. 'I'll warm his ears until they burst into flame. Christopher
Redmayne is a bungler!'

    Taking
a stance with his hands on his hips, Kemp was ready to fire a verbal broadside
the moment Christopher entered, but he was taken aback at the sight of the
lacerated face and bruised cheekbone. The presence of Jonathan Bale also helped
to silence him. After staring in horror, Henry rushed across to his brother.

    'Look
at the state of you!' he exclaimed.

    'I
was attacked on my way home from here last night,' said Christopher.

    'Attacked?'
repeated Kemp. 'By whom?'

    'I
will tell you, Sir Marcus. First, let me introduce my friend, Jonathan Bale,
the finest constable in London.' He turned to his companion. 'I am sorry you
will have to listen to this for the third time, Mr Bale, but it cannot be
helped.'

    'Pray
continue, Mr Redmayne,' said Jonathan, eyeing Kemp with controlled distaste.
'Your brother and his guest ought to know the risk you took on their behalf.'

    Christopher's
recital abbreviated the facts to the bare essentials. They were more than
enough to make both Henry and Kemp shudder with fear. Inevitably, Henry saw the
incident entirely from his own point of view.

    'It
was I who was the real target!' he wailed, clutching his chest. 'That assassin
was sent to carry out the death threat against me. Dear God! What a narrow
escape I had! If I had been abroad alone last night, Mr Bale would probably
have found my corpse by now on Paul's Wharf.'

    'It
was your brother who was attacked sir,' Jonathan reminded him.

    'Only
because I was not available.'

    'You
were protected Mr Redmayne. Your brother was not - until now.'

    'This
is insupportable,' said Henry, flinging himself into a chair and hugging
himself defensively. 'I shall not set a foot outside the front door.'

    'With
respect, Henry,' said Christopher, 'the assassin was not after you. I was the
target last night because I have been searching for Gabriel Cheever's killer.
They
know
that I am on their tail.'

    'Exactly,'
said Kemp. 'Your name was mentioned in my last letter.'

    'That
proves it must be someone in your circle, Sir Marcus. Someone who has met me
through Henry and recognises me by sight.'

    'Dozens
of my friends can do that,' observed Henry. 'I gave you that list.'

    'Yes,
Mr Bale and I have been working through it.'

    Kemp
scowled. 'Without success, it seems.'

    'Only
because you refuse to help us, Sir Marcus.'

    'You
surely cannot point a finger at me.'

    'I
must,' said Christopher. 'Henry showed me both the letters that he received and
even Mr Wickens allowed me a glance at the demand sent to him. But you have
rejected every entreaty even though you may have in your possession the one
piece of information that will enable us to catch this man.'

    'A
magistrate will take a poor view of anyone withholding evidence,' added
Jonathan seriously. 'Especially where a brutal murder is involved.'

    Kemp
looked cornered. 'It's an unwarranted invasion of my privacy.'

    'Henry's
message said you might have changed your mind' Christopher commented.

    'Well,
he had no right to tell you that.'

    'You
promised,
Marcus,' said Henry.

    'I
merely said that I would consider it.'

    'Show
my brother the letters and get it over with.'

    'No,
Henry. I am still undecided.'

    'Then
you are impeding this investigation, Sir Marcus,' warned Jonathan.

    'I
don't need a mere constable to teach me the law,' retorted Kemp waspishly.

    'Would
you rather this villain remained free to extort more money from you and to make
another attempt on Mr Redmayne's life? He must be arrested at once.'

    'Mr
Bale is right,' said Christopher. 'We must have your help.'

    'Those
letters are highly personal.'

    'Then
do not show them to me, Sir Marcus. What I really want to see is the extract
from the diary. That will open up a completely new line of enquiry.' He saw the
uncertainty in Kemp's eyes. 'If you fear that a printer will read of your
misdemeanours, borrow a pen from Henry and scratch out your name.'