The Iron Horse

Kitty put her shopping down. ‘You’ve no right to be here,’ she said belligerently. ‘Even when we were friends, I kept you away from my lodgings. I like to preserve some privacy.’

‘I needed to speak to you, Kitty.’

‘Then you should have asked me to meet you somewhere.’

‘After what happened last time,’ he said reasonably, ‘I had no guarantee that you’d agree to see me again.’

‘So you tricked your way past my landlady with an arrant lie.’ She became suspicious. ‘How long have you been here?’

‘Long enough to have a good look around.’

‘I hope you didn’t dare go into my bedroom.’

‘Why – what secrets have you got hidden in there?’

‘Is that why you came?’ she demanded. ‘To snoop on me?’

‘Calm down, Kitty,’ said Lord Hendry, putting a hand on her shoulder. ‘I’ve only been here five minutes or so.’

Reacting to his touch, she pulled away smartly and went to open the door of her bedroom. She glanced inside to make sure that nothing had been moved or taken. Satisfied that all was well, she turned back to face him again.

‘I was interested to see where you lived,’ he said. ‘It’s exactly the kind of place I imagined – comfortable, tasteful and essentially feminine.’ He became serious. ‘I had a visit from Inspector Colbeck this morning. Does that name mean anything to you?’

‘Yes – he’s leading the murder investigation.’

‘God knows how but he somehow discovered that you and I spent that night at the Wyvern Hotel. He asked me to divulge your name. I refused to give it, of course, but he’s the kind of man who won’t let the matter rest there.’

‘He has no need to speak to me,’ she said irritably.

‘Colbeck believes that he does.’

‘I have nothing whatsoever to do with the crime.’

‘Unfortunately, you do,’ he told her. ‘It was your hatbox that contained the severed head. The Inspector feels that it was no random choice. Your property was stolen for a specific purpose.’

‘How could it have been? Nobody knew I was at that hotel.’

‘Someone must have done.’

‘No,’ she stressed, walking across to him. ‘For obvious reasons, I didn’t tell a soul that I was going there.’

‘What about the person who accompanied you?’

‘He was equally circumspect.’

‘That’s what he claimed, I daresay, but men are men, Kitty. Some of them simply can’t resist boasting about their conquests. It may well be that this fellow unwittingly let the cat out of the bag.’

‘He’d never do that, George.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because he’s very discreet.’

‘By instinct or necessity?’ he asked, eyelids narrowing. ‘Is he married? Having a wife forces a man to be extremely discreet.’

‘You’d know more about that than I do, George.’

‘So who is your mysterious lover?’

‘Mind your own business.’

‘You won’t be able to say that to Inspector Colbeck,’ he warned. ‘He’ll find out who the man is and follow the trail to you. One thing is certain. Your new admirer is patently not accustomed to clandestine encounters in hotels or he’d have known exactly where to take you. Instead of that, he let you recommend the Wyvern.’

Kitty flared up. ‘I did that for with good reason, George.’

‘Did you?’

‘I wanted to purge the memory of spending time there with you. In fact, I’d like to forget every single thing that ever happened between us. It was all a regrettable mistake.’

‘You didn’t think so at the time.’

‘I didn’t know the sort of person you really were then.’

‘I cared for you, Kitty. I indulged your every whim.’

‘But you didn’t,’ she countered. ‘You denied me the thing that I coveted most and that was a public acknowledgement of my status. You kept me out of sight because you were ashamed of me.’

‘Ashamed of myself, more likely,’ he said under his breath. ‘How could I be seen with you in public? I have a wife. That fact inevitably imposed restrictions on our friendship. I told you from the start that Caroline’s feelings had to be considered.’

‘What about my feelings?’

‘You seemed happy enough to me.’

‘Did you ever ask how I felt? Did you ever show any real interest in what I actually wanted? No, George – you simply wished to have me at your beck and call.’ She struck a dignified pose. ‘I’m worth more than that.’

‘I took you for what you were, Kitty – a scheming adventuress.’

She pointed to the door. ‘I think you should leave.’

‘I’ll not depart until I find out who he is,’ he resolved. ‘I don’t believe that you deserted me because I didn’t take you with me to the races. There was someone else, wasn’t there? All the time we were friends, you were intriguing behind my back with another man.’

‘I’m not that unprincipled, George.’

‘Who is the fellow?’

‘We only met after I’d parted company with you.’

‘I want to know his name!’ he howled, stamping a foot.

Kitty was shaken by the intensity of his anger and she took a precautionary step backwards. There was no way that she could conceal her relationship with Hamilton Fido indefinitely and she had no wish to do so. It had been her intention to flaunt it at the Derby when everyone would see her and where it could be used as a potent weapon against Lord Hendry. Nothing would hurt him more than the realisation that the woman he had lost was now on intimate terms with a despised rival. The revelation could not be postponed until then. Cornered in her own lodgings, she responded with spirit.

‘I’ll tell you his name,’ she said, raising herself up to her full height, ‘but I’ll only do so on one condition.’

‘What’s that?’

‘That you leave this house immediately.’

‘With pleasure,’ he said, picking up his top hat and cane. ‘Now, then, what benighted fool have you enticed into your bed this time?’

‘Hamilton Fido.’

He was stunned. ‘You’d never do that to me, Kitty.’

‘Hamilton Fido,’ she repeated with a smirk of delight. ‘You’ll see us both at the Derby next week. What do you think of that, George?’

Unable to find words to express his fury, Lord Hendry resorted to actions. Drawing back his cane, he used it to hit her across the side of the head and knock her down. Then he stormed out of the room and slammed the door after him.

Derby Week did not begin until the following Monday but preparations were already well under way. When he took the train to Epsom that Saturday, Robert Colbeck found that it was already covered with tents, marquees, stalls, sideshows and gypsy caravans. It was a sunny afternoon in late May and more people were arriving in carts, wagons, drays, cabs and coaches or on horseback and foot. Even at that early stage, a carnival atmosphere prevailed. By the time the Derby was run on Wednesday of the next week, the whole place would be transformed into a giant fairground.

Like Victor Leeming, Colbeck had been saddened to learn that the informer inside Scotland Yard was Constable Peter Cheggin, a competent and hard-working detective, but he was relieved that the man had been