The Iron Horse

your colleagues. We always like to keep on the right side of the law.’

‘I wish everyone had that attitude.’ Leeming took a long sip of his beer then licked his lips appreciatively. ‘This is good.’

‘We aim to please.’

‘Well, you’ve certainly pleased me.’

‘Recommend my beer, that’s all I ask.’

‘Oh, I always do,’ said Leeming, gazing through the window. ‘I sing your praises to everyone. Though I have some bad news, I fear.’

‘Oh dear – what’s that?’

‘I may have to deprive you of one of your regular customers.’

Quaffing some more beer, he remained vigilant.

White’s was the oldest and most celebrated gentlemen’s club in St.James’s Street. It was renowned for its illustrious history, its elite membership and its penchant for gambling. Prime Ministers, generals, admirals, poets, diarists, Regency bucks and other luminaries had belonged to it in their time and left the place charged with their memory. Some had joined in search of civilised conversation while others had wanted a desirable refuge from their wives and children. Once a member of White’s, they entered a magic circle.

Lord Hendry had belonged to the club for many years and was a familiar sight at the card tables. That morning, he was enjoying a drink with friends and fending off their enquiries about the Derby. A uniformed steward soon entered with a business card on his silver tray. He offered the card to Lord Hendry.

‘The gentleman wishes to speak to you now, sir,’ said the man.

Lord Hendry read the name on the card. ‘Very well,’ he agreed.

Excusing himself from his friends, he followed the steward to an anteroom near the vestibule. When he went in, Lord Hendry found Robert Colbeck waiting for him. After an exchange of greetings, they sat down opposite each other. Lord Hendry adopted a patrician tone with his visitor.

‘At least you didn’t bother me at home this time,’ he said loftily.

‘I recalled your saying how often you came to your club, my lord,’ said Colbeck, ‘and you indicated to Superintendent Tallis that you’d rather be contacted here.’

‘How did you know I was a member of White’s?’

‘It seemed the most likely place for someone of your eminence.’

‘I divide most of my time between here and my stables.’

‘I trust that Odysseus is still in fine fettle.’

‘He’s fully justified his position as Derby favourite,’ said Lord Hendry, ‘and that’s why our rivals are so worried. I hope you’ve come to tell me that you’ve arrested the man who tried to put my horse out of the race altogether.’

‘I wish that I had, Lord Hendry, but it’s not the case.’

‘Fido and Dowd are the chief suspects.’

‘Both of them have been interviewed at length,’ said Colbeck. ‘I spent yesterday afternoon at Mr Hamilton’s stables and he denied all knowledge of the attack on Odysseus.’

‘He would,’ snarled the other.

‘As it happens, I’ve come here on another errand.’

‘And what, pray, is that?’

‘To discuss your visit to the Wyvern Hotel,’ said Colbeck.

‘I’ve never been anywhere near such a place.’

‘Then let’s start with the Angel Hotel in Cambridge, shall we? Or perhaps you’ve never heard of that either.’

‘You’re being impertinent, Inspector Colbeck.’

‘I am merely trying to save time.’

‘By resorting to insolence?’

‘No,’ said Colbeck, ‘by reminding you how thorough we are. I sent my sergeant to the Angel Hotel to confirm that you stayed there. And I’m equally satisfied that you stayed at the Wyvern Hotel. I can tell you the precise date, if you wish.’

‘I warned your superintendent about this,’ railed Lord Hendry, cheeks reddening by the second. ‘It’s intolerable! I demand the right to privacy. I’ll not have the police intruding into my life like vultures pecking at a carcass. Damn it all, Inspector! You’re supposed to be tracking a vicious killer, not checking up on where I choose to stay.’

‘The murder and the Wyvern Hotel are inextricably linked.’

‘I fail to see how.’

‘It was from the hotel that the hatbox was stolen.’ He saw the way that Lord Hendry winced. ‘But you already knew that, didn’t you? In the interests of solving this crime, you should have come forward with that information instead of letting us find out for ourselves.’ Colbeck waited for a response that never came. ‘I know this must be embarrassing for you,’ he said at length, ‘but there’s a question you refused to answer when Superintendent Tallis put it to you.’

‘And I still refuse,’ asserted Lord Hendry.

‘The name of that young lady is of great interest to us.’

‘And none whatsoever to me.’

‘We’ll find her one way or another,’ said Colbeck. ‘If she proves instrumental in helping us to solve this murder, then your refusal to name her will be taken as an act of wilful obstruction. There could be consequences.’

‘I don’t give a fig for your consequences!’ yelled Lord Hendry, snapping his fingers. ‘And I don’t accept that this person can be of any value to you. She neither beheaded the murder victim nor planned the attack on Odysseus. Look elsewhere, Inspector. I’ve told you who the likely villains are.’

‘They appear to be injured parties, my lord.’

‘Dowd and Fido are the two biggest rogues in horseracing.’

‘That doesn’t stop them from being a target for their rivals,’ said Colbeck. ‘Did you know that someone has been trying to entice Tim Maguire away from Mr Dowd with an offer of five hundred pounds?’

‘No,’ admitted Lord Hendry. ‘I didn’t.’

‘And did it never occur to you that the reason John Feeny was killed was to throw suspicion onto Hamilton Fido? He resents that.’

‘Don’t believe his protestations of innocence. Fido is a two-faced villain of the first water. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s behind the murder and the assault on Odysseus. He’s an appalling fellow. How anyone can have any dealings with him is beyond me.’

Colbeck was about to tell him that his former mistress did not share his low opinion of Fido but he changed his mind. He felt that it would be too cruel and that the information should not come from him. It would certainly not encourage Lord Hendry to divulge the name that he was after. His only hope was that the young lady would come forward at the prompting of Hamilton Fido. He shifted his interest to another racehorse owner.

‘Why do you dislike Brian Dowd so much, Lord Hendry?’

‘I don’t dislike him – I hate, detest and revile the man!’

‘On what grounds?’ asked Colbeck.

‘He’s beneath contempt.’

‘Yet every racing correspondent describes him as a brilliant trainer. How did he achieve that reputation?’

‘By dint of cheating and connivance,’ said Lord Hendry. ‘Dowd can pick out a good horse, I’ll grant him that. But he can also make sure that lesser horses somehow contrive to win races. Exactly how he does it is a mystery to me – but it’s criminal.’

‘Has he ever been charged with any offence?’

‘I’ve made frequent allegations against him, Inspector, but I’ve been unable to back them up with firm evidence.’

‘Evidence should come before any allegation, Lord Hendry.’

‘He must be cheating – his horses win too many races.’

‘What about the Derby?’