The Iron Horse

‘That doesn’t prevent either of us from enjoying it, Sergeant.’

‘It would prevent me, sir.’

‘I’ll mention that to Kitty when I see her.’

‘And when will that be?’ asked Colbeck.

‘When this week is over, Inspector.’

‘Not before?’

‘Only if we should chance to meet.’

‘Where are you lodging at the moment?’

‘In my own home,’ replied Fido. ‘My coachman drives me back to London every evening and gets me here early in the morning.’

‘Would it not be more sensible to stay near Epsom?’

‘Accommodation is almost impossible to find.’

‘Do you know if Miss Lavender found any?’

‘I’ve no idea.’

‘You seem singularly uninformed about her movements, sir.’

‘Kitty is a friend,’ said the bookmaker, ‘and a rather special friend at that. Yet I don’t keep her on a leash. Kitty likes her freedom. She comes in and out of my life at will.’

‘I don’t think that anyone would be allowed to do that somehow,’ said Colbeck levelly. ‘You’re a man who prefers to exercise control. We saw that in the sad case of Peter Cheggin and the same rule no doubt obtains with Miss Lavender. You never fit into anyone else’s plans, Mr Fido – they fit into yours.’

‘You’re getting to know me too well, Inspector.’

‘Well enough, sir.’

‘What’s this about Lord Hendry and the turn of events?’

‘His house was broken into last night,’ said Colbeck. ‘His portrait of Odysseus was stolen.’ Fido laughed harshly. ‘He was less amused by the crime. We saw the painting. It was an outstanding piece of portraiture.’

‘What use is the portrait of a losing horse?’

‘Odysseus has not lost the race yet, sir, and Merry Legs has not won it. May I ask if you were aware that the painting existed?’

‘I was, Inspector.’

‘How did you come to know about it?’

‘Kitty mentioned it to me. She heard about it from Lord Hendry himself. He was inordinately proud of it.’ He looked from one to the other and saw their stern expressions. ‘Ah – so that’s why you’ve come to see me, is it? Lord Hendry has accused me of arranging the theft. Or perhaps he thinks I broke into the house myself.’

‘No,’ said Colbeck, ‘that’s not the allegation he made.’

‘Then what is he alleging?’

‘He feels that Miss Lavender was involved in some way.’

‘Kitty?’ Putting back his head, Fido laughed aloud. ‘What would she want with the painting of a horse?’

‘To cause Lord Hendry pain and embarrassment.’

Fido became serious. ‘She’s every right to do that, Inspector, and I’d back her to the hilt when she did so. But she’s no thief – nor would she know where to find one skilful enough to get in and out of the house without being caught.’

‘Would you know where to find one, sir?’ asked Leeming.

‘I know where to find whatever I want, Sergeant.’

‘So you could have advised Miss Lavender.’

‘The only advice I gave to Kitty was that she should speak to you. When she’s done that, and when you realise that she’s had nothing to do with any of the crimes committed, you might stop pestering the two of us.’

‘You were glad enough of our help when someone tried to poison your horse,’ said Colbeck.

‘In times of trouble, I always turn to the law, Inspector.’

‘That’s what Lord Hendry has done.’

‘Well, you can tell him to stop looking in my direction,’ said Fido irritably. ‘I didn’t steal his painting and nor did Kitty. You ought to be talking to Brian Dowd. He has good reason to upset Lord Hendry. So do lots of other people, for that matter. Lord George Hendry is not the most popular man in horseracing.’

‘We’ve learnt that, sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘Well, you must get back to the betting office. But if Miss Lavender should cross your path…’

‘I’ll be sure to point her in your direction, Inspector.’

‘Thank you.’

Fido gave them a smile of farewell before hurrying off down the passageway. Colbeck rubbed a hand across his chin and reflected on the conversation with the bookmaker. Leeming was terse.

‘He’s a liar.’

‘I don’t think Mr Fido has ever been acquainted with the truth.’

‘My guess is that Kitty Lavender travels back to his house with him every evening. A man like that just has to wear the trappings of success and the lady is one of them.’

‘Granted,’ said Colbeck, ‘but I don’t accept that he lives at home during Derby Week. It would be absurd to travel back and forth to London when the roads are so congested. He’ll have found a hotel or lodgings close to the racecourse. Find out where it is, Victor.’

‘How, sir?’

‘By following him when he leaves at the end of the day. With luck, Hamilton Fido will lead you all the way to Kitty Lavender.’

‘May I say how ravishing you look, Kitty?’ he remarked, appraising her with beaming approval. ‘At times like this, I begin to wish that we were not related.’

‘Whereas I’m grateful that we are,’ she said.

‘I thought I was your beau for the day.’

‘You are, Marcus.’

‘Then we must look as if we’re together,’ said Marcus Johnson. ‘Not as children of the same mother but as man and mistress.’

‘Why not husband and wife?’

He brayed at her. ‘Neither of us could manage that deception with any degree of success. It’s far too much to ask. Even when I was married, I never contrived to look like a husband and your blend of beauty and voluptuousness would rarely be found in a wife.’

He had come to pick her up from the house to take her to the racecourse. Kitty Lavender had, as usual, taken great pains with her appearance, wearing a dress of light blue shot silk with pagoda sleeves and a hooped skirt with several flounces. To complement the dress, she had chosen a round hat of leghorn straw, trimmed with flowers at the front and a large blue velvet bow at the back. Marcus Johnson wore a well-cut frock coat, fawn trousers and a purple cravat. As she took a final look in the mirror, he put on his top hat.

‘What a handsome couple we make!’ he declared, looking over her shoulder. ‘If he could see us now, Hamilton would be green with jealousy.’

‘He won’t be jealous of my half-brother.’

‘What a pity! I love exciting envy.’

‘How did you first come to know him?’ she asked.

‘I met him at Newmarket when I placed some bets with him. I was staying with friends near Cambridge at the time and I got Hamilton invited back for a night at the card table. He was impressed that I moved so freely among the aristocracy.’

‘Did he win at cards?’

‘Yes, Kitty,’ he replied, ‘but only modestly. He played like the bookmaker he is and hedged his bets. Had he been bolder and more venturesome, he would have won far more.’

‘Were you bold and venturesome?’

‘Of course – but, as it happens, I lost.’

‘That’s nothing new,’ she said, turning to look at him. ‘Yet you’ve had successes at the card table as well, I have to admit that.’