It was mid-evening by the time that Robert Colbeck and Victor Leeming returned by train to London. After sending the sergeant home to his family, Colbeck first delivered the bottle of poisoned water to a chemist for analysis then went off to give his report to Edward Tallis. The superintendent was not impressed with what he heard.
‘Is there no end to this?’ he grumbled. ‘One crime follows another in quick succession. As if a murder were not bad enough, we now have to investigate the attempted crippling of one racehorse, the attempted poisoning of another, a plot to suborn a jockey and, since that failed, a plan to beat him with cudgels. What’s next, Inspector?’
‘The arrest of the culprits, sir.’
‘I see no sign of that.’
‘We are getting closer all the time,’ said Colbeck. ‘And I doubt if there’ll be any more incidents involving the racehorses. Odysseus, Merry Legs and Limerick Lad are all being guarded with extreme care. Their respective owners will not let any unauthorised person near them. I’ve deployed some of our men to provide additional protection.’
‘I wish the Derby had never been invented!’ moaned Tallis.
‘Tens of thousands of people would disagree with that sentiment, sir. They’ll come from all over the country to see the race and there’ll be lots of people from abroad as well.’
‘Foreigners and Irish always bring trouble. The government should ban horseracing forthwith and keep out the riffraff from across the water altogether.’
‘I don’t think you’ll find a single Member of Parliament to support that idea,’ said Colbeck with amusement. ‘Derby Day is a national holiday. Parliament is suspended and many of the people who sit on its benches will be heading for Epsom. It’s a wonderful occasion, Superintendent. You’d enjoy it.’
‘I never enjoy uncontrolled revelry,’ said Tallis with distaste. ‘It leads to crime, drunkenness and fornication. It encourages the lower orders to take gross liberties. I’m surprised that someone as fastidious as you takes an interest in such a despicable event.’
‘There’s nothing deplorable about watching racehorses at full gallop, sir. It’s an inspiring sight. My interest in the Derby began some years ago,’ explained Colbeck, ‘when I was first called to the Bar. You’ve no idea how much litigation surrounds the race. It may delight the spectators who flock to Epsom but it also enriches the lawyers who are involved in the countless bitter disputes. When the Derby is at hand, passions run high. That’s why the courts are always full.’
‘Don’t talk to me about passions, Inspector. We’re the victims of them. Were it not for someone’s passion to win the Derby, we wouldn’t have this daunting catalogue of crime to deal with.’
‘I can’t say that I feel daunted, sir.’
‘Well, I do.’
‘Never a day passes but we gather important information.’
‘But look where it comes from,’ said Tallis. ‘That’s what worries me. The most important information to date has come from a clerk at the Wyvern Hotel and a barmaid at some country inn. Neither of them has taken us any closer to apprehending the killer.’
‘That’s not true,’ argued Colbeck. ‘Because he was vigilant, Dacre Radley noted that the same young woman stayed at his hotel with both Lord Hendry and Hamilton Fido. That was significant.’
‘It might be if you were able to question the woman but you seem unable to do so. Why is that?’
‘I’m addressing that problem, sir.’
‘Address it more robustly.’
‘Yes, Superintendent,’ said Colbeck. ‘As for the barmaid at the Shepherd and Shepherdess, she supplied us with valuable insights into the character of John Feeny and she may yet do more for us.’
‘In what way?’
‘You must understand her state of mind. When I told her about Feeny’s death, Bonny Rimmer was all but knocked senseless. All of the plans she had made with Feeny disappeared in an instant. It left her hurt, bewildered and consumed by grief. Days later, the girl had still not recovered from the blow. What I learnt from her,’ said Colbeck, relaying what Madeleine Andrews had, in fact, discovered, ‘was only part of the story. There’s more to come. Bonny Rimmer promised to contact me when she could think more clearly. She talked of keepsakes that Feeny had given her, for instance.’
‘Keepsakes?’ snorted Tallis. ‘What use are they?’
‘They’re clues to the sort of person Feeny really was, sir.’
‘We know the sort of person he is – a dead one. He’s a murder victim, Inspector. Instead of worrying about him any more, you should concentrate solely on his killer.’
‘I need the lad’s help to do that,’ said Colbeck, ‘and I have every hope that he’ll give it to me. Dead men should never be discounted as a source of information. John Feeny is a case in point, sir. My belief is that he will rise from the grave to assist us.’
‘Let me see it, Kitty.’
‘No,’ she replied.
‘Show me where he hit you.’
‘There’s no point, Hamilton. The bruise has gone now.’
‘Which side of the head was it?’
‘Leave me be. It doesn’t matter any more.’
‘Oh, yes, it does,’ said Hamilton Fido sternly. ‘It matters a great deal to me and to Marcus. Nobody touches you with impunity. Now,
Kitty Lavender and the bookmaker were in one of the rooms he had rented for her near the racecourse. All her attempts to conceal her injury were in vain. He was insistent. After another round of protests, she eventually gave in.
‘You’re making far too much fuss over it,’ she said.
‘Which side?’
‘On the left.’
He pushed her hair back gently and saw how much powder she had used on her temple. Taking out a handkerchief, he first licked it then applied it gingerly to her head. As the powder was wiped off, the vestigial bruise slowly came into view. Fido was incensed.
‘Lord Hendry did
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll murder him!’
‘Calm down, Hamilton.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me about this?’
‘Because I was afraid of the way you’d react,’ she said, ‘and I was right to do so. Both you and Marcus flew off the handle.’
‘Do you blame us?’
‘No – I blame myself.’
‘I provoked him, Hamilton. I couldn’t resist hurling your name at him. That was too much for George to bear.’
‘Nothing can excuse what he did, Kitty.’
‘Oh, I don’t excuse it,’ she said ruefully, ‘believe me. I intended to get my revenge on George but I meant to do it in my own way.’
‘I’m doing it on your behalf.’
‘Is it true that you’ve challenged him to a duel?’
‘Yes,’ said Fido. ‘First of all, I’ll let him watch Odysseus get beaten in the Derby then I’ll send him off to Hell with whichever weapon he chooses.’
‘You’ll need to watch him. George comes from military stock.’
‘He’ll be no match for me, Kitty. He’s at least twenty years older and he drinks far too much. When I issued my challenge, I could sense that he was terrified.’
‘I’m the one who’s terrified. You might be wounded.’
