The Iron Horse

‘We agree on something at last.’

‘Not exactly, sir,’ said Colbeck, ‘but I spy a way out of this dilemma. Approach the lady yourself and explain the situation in which we find ourselves. Tell her that she can contact me at Scotland Yard and that I will treat everything she says in strict confidence. Who knows?’ he asked meaningfully. ‘It may well be that she is more anxious for this murder to be solved than you seem to be.’

Kitty Lavender was in her bedroom, seated in front of the dressing table and looking in the mirror as she fastened her diamond earrings in place. When she heard a knock on the door, she went through to the drawing room to see who her visitor might be. Opening the door, she was taken aback to see Marcus Johnson standing there with a warm and mischievous smile.

‘I thought we were going to keep out of each other’s way for a while,’ she said. ‘What brought you here?’

‘A hansom cab.’

‘Don’t jest, Marcus.’

‘I came on the off-chance of catching you in,’ he said, doffing his hat. ‘Your landlady recognised me and let me into the house.’

‘In that case, you’d better come in.’

Kitty stood back so that he could go past her then she closed the door behind her. She was not sure if she was pleased to see him. Her half-brother tended to vanish from her life for long periods then surface when he needed money or help or both. Kitty wondered what he was after this time.

The drawing room was large, well proportioned and filled with exquisite Regency furniture. Long, gilt-framed mirrors had been artfully used to make the room seem even bigger than it was. Fresh flowers stood in a vase. Marcus Johnson looked around.

‘I always like coming here,’ he said. ‘I just wish that I could afford a suite of rooms like this.’

‘You’re a nomad. You never stay in one place long enough.’

‘That’s true – though this house would tempt me.’

‘It was recommended to me by a close friend.’

He grinned. ‘I won’t ask his name,’ he said, putting his hat down on a table. ‘Well, I won’t stay long, Kitty. I just wanted the pleasure of seeing the look of amazement on your face.’

‘Why should I be amazed?’

‘Because I’ve not come to borrow money from you.’

‘That’s a relief,’ she said.

‘In fact, I’m here to do the exact opposite.’ Thrusting a hand into his coat pocket, he extracted a pile of banknotes. ‘I’m going to repay in full what I owe you.’

‘Marcus!’ she exclaimed.

‘You see? I knew that you’d gasp with disbelief.’

‘It’s so…unexpected.’

‘Be honest, Kitty,’ he said with a laugh. ‘I’m your half-brother. You’ve no need to mince words with me. It’s not only unexpected, it’s totally uncharacteristic. Marcus Johnson is one of Nature’s borrowers. Until today, that is.’ He waved the banknotes. ‘Go on – take them.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘They’re not forgeries.’

‘Even so,’ she said, hesitating.

He laughed again. ‘Am I held in such low esteem that you do not believe I could acquire the money honestly? I have to disappoint you,’ he went on. ‘I neither robbed a bank nor dressed up as a highwayman to waylay an unsuspecting coach. I won at cards, Kitty. I had a run of luck at the card table last night that was unprecedented. And that, my dear sister, is how I’m able to pay off my debt to you.’

‘Thank you, Marcus,’ she said, taking the money and the kiss that came with it. ‘But do not fritter away the rest of your winnings.’

‘No sermons, please – I know when to stop.’

‘Then your judgement has improved.’

‘I’ve put youthful impetuosity behind me,’ he declared, ‘where gambling is concerned, anyway. When it comes to beautiful women, however, it’s a different matter. In that regard, I’m ever prey to impulsive action.’

‘Does that mean you have someone in mind?’

‘I have a dozen ladies in mind, Kitty!’

‘For marriage or for pleasure?’

‘I’m not the marrying kind,’ he said airily. ‘I ventured into holy matrimony once and found it a most inhibiting place to be. I like the freedom of the open road. You were right. I’m essentially a nomad.’

‘How long will you be staying in London?’

‘That depends how well I do during Derby Week.’

‘What happens if your run of luck continues?’

‘Then I’ll probably spend the summer in Paris.’

‘And if you lose at Epsom?’

‘I’ll be back to borrow that money off you again.’

‘It’s no longer available,’ she told him, slipping it into the drawer of a mahogany side-table. ‘The kindest thing I can do is to refuse you any more loans. That will make you stand on your own feet.’

‘I think I’ve finally learnt to do that, Kitty.’

‘I sincerely hope so.’

‘Well,’ he said, collecting his hat, ‘now that I’ve settled my debts, I’ll be on my way. Unless, of course, those keen ears of yours picked up something from Hamilton Fido.’

‘I haven’t even seen him since we last met.’

‘Make a point of doing so.’

‘He’s too preoccupied with the Derby.’

‘Surely he’s taking you to Epsom on his arm.’

‘Yes, he loves to display me.’

‘You’re a jewel among women, Kitty. He wears you with pride. But don’t forget me, will you? Last-minute information is the best kind. I can place my heaviest bet immediately before the race.’ He winked at her. ‘Can I count on your help?’

‘I don’t like to be pestered, Marcus.’

‘Blood is thicker than water.’

‘As you wish,’ she said with a tired smile. ‘I’ll see what I can find out from Hamilton. How will I get in touch with you?’

‘You won’t need to,’ he told her, ‘because I’ll get in touch with you. Thank you again for the loan of that money.’ He kissed her on both cheeks. ‘Take my advice and grow accustomed to the notion that your half-brother will soon be a very wealthy man.’

The Shepherd and Shepherdess was a half-timbered inn, situated on the bank of a river. Built almost three hundred years earlier, it served the needs of the village and also attracted customers from further afield. Since it was only a couple of miles from the stables, it did not take Robert Colbeck long to get there. When they reached the inn, the inspector clambered out of the cab and told the driver to wait.

‘How long will you be, guv’nor?’ asked the man.

‘Long enough,’ said Colbeck, understanding the question.

The man jumped quickly down from the cab, tethered his horse and went into the bar to slake his thirst. Colbeck bought drinks for both of them before introducing himself to the landlord. He asked if he might speak to Bonny Rimmer and, moments later, a short, pretty, dark-haired, rosy-cheeked young woman came into the bar, wiping her hands on her apron. She was plainly terrified at having been summoned by a detective from Scotland Yard. After trying to put her at ease with a few pleasantries, Colbeck requested that they move to somewhere other than the bar. Still apprehensive, Bonny took him to a little room at the rear. As they sat down together, Colbeck put his glass of brandy on the table.

‘I believe you know a jockey named Ned Kyle,’ he said.

‘Yes, sir,’ she replied. ‘He often comes in here.’