position.’
‘Is he married, sir?’
‘No, but he has reputation to maintain.’
‘What price did the blackmailer put on that reputation?’
‘Two hundred pounds.’
‘Just for writing a letter?’ said Leeming.
‘A compromising letter, Sergeant,’ noted Tallis. ‘I advised him not to pay and promised him that the people behind the attempted blackmail would soon be in custody.’
‘He had the sense to report it to you,’ said Colbeck. ‘Others, I fear, did not. Stealing those mail bags must have paid dividends.’
‘It did the opposite to the Post Office. They have been swamped with protests from those whose correspondence went astray. There’s talk of legal action. Having spoken to this gentleman today, I can see why.’
Victor Leeming sighed. ‘Murder, robbery, assault, blackmail, kidnap, destruction of railway property, conspiracy to blow up the Crystal Palace — is there any crime that these devils have
‘Yes,’ said Colbeck, thinking about Madeleine Andrews and fearing for her virtue. ‘There is one crime, Victor, and the man who dares to commit it will have to answer directly to me.’
Madeleine Andrews was also concerned for her safety. She had been moved to an upstairs room at the rear of the house and, through the wooden bars that had been fixed across the windows that day, she could, until darkness fell, look out on a large, blossoming, well-kept garden that was ablaze with colour. The room had clearly belonged to a maidservant but Madeleine did not object to that. She had not only been rescued from the gloom of the wine cellar, she had access to the meagre wardrobe of the former occupant. Soaked with red wine, her own dress was too uncomfortable to wear so she changed into a maidservant’s clothing, relieved that the woman for whom it had been made was roughly the same shape and size as herself.
Unlike Thomas Sholto, she had sustained only the tiniest injuries to her face when the wine bottle shattered. Dipping a cloth into the bowl of water provided, she soon cleaned away the spots of blood on her face. By the light of an oil lamp, she now sat beside the little table on which a tray of untouched food was standing. There was no hope of escape. In daring to fight back, she had given herself away. From now on, they would take extra precautions to guard her.
Her abiding concern was for the bearded man who had cornered her in the cellar. Had they not been interrupted at a critical moment, Madeleine might have been badly beaten. Patently, her attacker had no qualms about striking a woman. Once he had subdued her by force, she feared, he would satisfy the lust she had seen bubbling in his eyes. Another long and sleepless night lay ahead. She looked around for a weapon with which to defend herself but could find nothing that would keep the bearded man at bay. Madeleine felt more exposed than ever.
Her mind turned once more to her father. Like her, he was trapped in a bedroom from which he could not move. She knew that he would be in a torment of anxiety about her and Madeleine blamed herself yet again for putting him in such a position by being so easily gulled. Instead of representing law and order, the policeman who had enticed her away was a dangerous criminal with designs on her. She was glad that her father could not see what she was being forced to endure.
Hunger began to trouble her so she nibbled at some of the food, keeping her ears open for the sound of approaching feet. But nobody came to disturb her. Down in the hall, she heard a clock strike the hours. It was only when the chimes of midnight finally came that she felt able to relax slightly. If the bearded man were going to force himself upon her, he would surely have done so by now. Determined not to sleep, Madeleine nevertheless lay down on the hard bed. How long she stayed awake, she could not tell, but fatigue eventually got the better of her and she dozed off.
She was awake again at dawn, sitting up guiltily as fingers of light poked in through the windows. Madeleine got up to check the door but it was still locked. She drank some milk to bring herself fully awake before washing her face in the bowl. When she looked at the oil lamp, still giving off a faint glow, she realised that she might have a weapon after all. Its heavy base could knock someone unconscious if she were able to deliver a hard enough blow. But the bearded man would be more wary next time. Madeleine would not be able to catch him unawares again.
Tired, frightened, worried about her father, imprisoned in a strange house and wearing someone else’s dress, she tried to stave off despair by praying that she would soon be released. Madeleine even included the name of Robert Colbeck in her prayers, more in desperation than in hope. While she knew that he would be searching hard for her, she was afraid that he would never find her in such a remote spot.
Still thinking about him, drawing comfort from the memory of the brief times they had spent together, missing and needing him more than ever, Madeleine drifted across to a window and looked out. The first rays of sunlight were slowly dispelling the darkness and she was able to make out a few ghostly figures moving furtively towards the house through the garden. She blinked in surprise. When she peered out again, she saw that the men seemed to be carrying firearms. Madeleine felt the first surge of optimism since her kidnap.
‘Inspector Colbeck!’ she exclaimed.
Superintendent Edward Tallis had insisted on taking charge of the operation. Having had the house surrounded by armed policemen, he and Sergeant Leeming approached in an open carriage that had been hired at the nearest railway station. Inspector Colbeck preferred to ride alongside them on a horse. Even in the hazy light, they could admire the size and splendour of the Gilzean ancestral residence. It was a magnificent pile with classical proportions that gave it a stunning symmetry. Hampered by the presence of his superior, Colbeck had to follow a plan of action with which he did not entirely agree. He would certainly not have done what Tallis now did. When the carriage reached the forecourt, the driver reined in the two horses so that the Superintendent could stand up and bellow in a voice that must have been heard by everyone inside the building.
‘Sir Humphrey Gilzean and Thomas Sholto!’ he boomed. ‘My name is Superintendent Tallis of the Metropolitan Police, and I have warrants for your arrest.’ Within seconds, two upstairs windows opened. ‘I have deployed men all around the house. Give yourselves up now.’
Taking stock of the awkwardness of his situation, Gilzean closed his window immediately but Sholto left his open while he retreated into his bedroom. Moments later, he reappeared with a pistol in his hand and aimed it at Tallis. There was a loud report and the Superintendent’s hat was knocked from his head. Leeming pulled him down into the carriage. Colbeck, meanwhile, ordered the driver to take the vehicle out of range, following him as he did so. Sholto had now vanished from the window.
When the carriage came to a stop, Tallis was livid.
‘He shot at me!’ he cried, indignantly. ‘He tried to kill me.’
‘No sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘That was just a warning shot to make you pull back. I told you that it would be unwise to challenge them like that.’
‘The house is ringed with policemen. They have no way out.’
‘By throwing away our advantage, we may have given them one. Sir Humphrey will surely have planned for contingencies.’
‘So did I, Inspector. That’s why I brought so many men. Your idea was that you and Sergeant Leeming would make the arrests on your own. What could two of you have achieved?’
‘An element of surprise, sir.’
‘I am bound to agree,’ said Leeming.
Tallis was acerbic. ‘Who invited
‘Nobody, sir.’
‘Then keep it to yourself.’
‘Of course, sir.’
‘All we have to do is to wait here until Sir Humphrey comes to his senses. He will soon see how heavily outnumbered he is and accept that resistance is pointless.’
‘I hope so,’ said Leeming, picking up the top hat and putting a finger through the bullet hole. ‘I believe that was Captain Sholto who fired at you, sir. Obviously,
