He felt a stab of fear, thinking that she would recognise him but Josie did not even glance in his direction. Wherever she was going, she was eager to get there, ignoring everything else on the way. It made it much easier for Leeming to follow her. Turning at the corner, she went on down the main road, never once looking over her shoulder. Leeming was tingling with excitement. He believed she had received word from Chiffney and was going to meet him. All of his recriminations vanished. His visit to Chalk Farm had, after all, been supremely worthwhile.
Given her size, Josie could not walk fast but she kept up a reasonable speed as she picked her way through pedestrians coming towards her. After going for a couple of hundred yards, she turned into a side-road and continued on her way. Leeming came around the corner, checked that she was not looking back then kept up his pursuit. Confident that she was leading him to a main suspect in the investigation, he squeezed the handcuffs in his pocket, certain that they would be needed on Chiffney. A man ruthless enough to bring an express train off the rails was unlikely to surrender meekly. Even the presence of Josie did not deter Leeming now. If necessary, he would take them both on.
She eventually stopped outside the Shepherd and Shepherdess, an incongruous name for a public house in an urban district. Then, for the first time, she turned round. Leeming took evasive action, diving sideways into an alleyway. When he peeped around the corner, he saw that Josie was walking further on. He tried to follow her but it was in vain. Before he even stepped back out into the road, he was hit on the back of head and plunged helplessly into unconsciousness.
Dick Chiffney unlocked the door and hustled her into the bedroom. Josie Murlow was so pleased at their reunion that she threw her arms around him and held him tight. Taking off her hat, he let her hair cascade down then kissed her full on the lips. It was minutes before they finally broke apart.
‘I was beginning to think you’d run out on me again,’ she said.
‘I gave you my promise I’d send for you.’
‘Where did you spend last night?’
‘Right here,’ he said, indicating the room. ‘This house belongs to an old friend. He let me in as a favour.’
‘Why didn’t you send for me earlier?’
‘I had someone to see, Josie – the gentleman I’m working for.’
‘Has he paid you yet?’
‘I have to do the job first.’
‘Well, be quick about it, Dick,’ she urged. ‘The police are sniffing about. I had another one banging on my door today. They want you.’
‘That’s why I took precautions.’
‘Them instructions you give me, you mean?’
‘Yes, Josie. I had a feeling you might be followed. My note told you to stop at the Shepherd and Shepherdess to look round.’
‘I saw nobody,’ she said. ‘Not a bleeding soul.’
‘Well, I did,’ he said with a chuckle, taking out his pistol, ‘and I give him a sore head with this.’ He mimed the action of striking with the butt of the weapon. ‘That will teach him not to mess with Dick Chiffney.’
Josie was anxious. ‘Where did you get that gun?’
‘The gentleman give it to me.’
‘What for – you’re not going to shoot someone, are you?’
‘I told you before, Josie – you don’t need to know what’s going on. I’ve got a job to do, that’s all. When it’s done, I get the rest of the money and I can hand back both of the guns.’
‘
‘I’ve got this as well,’ he boasted, lifting the overhanging coverlet to reveal the rifle under the bed. She gasped in alarm. ‘Don’t get so upset, my old darling,’ he said, letting the coverlet go and putting an arm around her. ‘Everything will be all right.’
‘What have you got yourself into, Dick?’
‘Nothing I can’t handle.’
‘I don’t like it,’ she said. ‘You told me that there was no danger at all then I get two detectives coming to my house. When I try to leave it, I’m followed by someone.’
‘He was a police spy, Josie.’
‘That’s dreadful! I don’t want policemen camped outside my house, watching everything I do. What will happen now that you attacked the man following me?’ A worrying thought struck her. ‘You didn’t kill him, did you?’
‘No,’ he said, airily, ‘I didn’t hit him hard enough. I should’ve done really. The more coppers we can get rid of, the better.’ He took her by the shoulders. ‘Try to stay calm, my love,’ he urged. ‘I’m doing this for
‘All you’ve done so far is to bring the law down on me and I’m scared. What’s happening, Dick? I don’t like being kept in the dark. Most of all,’ she went on, ‘I don’t like having my house watched.
‘Then you’ve no need to go back there, Josie.’
‘Where else can I go?’
‘You can stay here, my darling,’ he said, nodding at the flagon on the table, ‘for the time being, anyway. We’ve got plenty of gin and a nice big bed – what more do we need?’
When he regained consciousness, Victor Leeming found himself lying on the ground in an alleyway close to some animal excrement. His face and body had been bruised in the fall and his head felt as if it were about to explode. It took him a little while to work out what had happened. His thick cap had prevented a bad scalp wound, leaving him with a large bump that throbbed insistently. Most people who had passed by took him for a drunk who had passed out. Nobody came to his aid. It was only when he dragged himself painfully to his feet that an old man stopped to help him.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked, looking at the grazes on his face.
‘I think so.’
‘Is there anything I can do?’
‘Yes,’ said Leeming, wincing at the pain. ‘Find a policeman.’
‘You stay here.’
When the old man went off, Leeming leant against the wall for support, annoyed that he had let himself be caught off guard. He took off his cap and ran a hand gingerly over the bump on his head. The assault had not been the work of a thief. Nothing had been taken from his pockets. Given the fact that Leeming was trailing Josie Murlow, the most likely assailant, he guessed, was Dick Chiffney.
A policeman eventually arrived and was astonished when he heard that the scruffy man in the alleyway was a detective sergeant. He hailed a cab on Leeming’s behalf, helped him into it and told the driver to go to Scotland Yard as fast as he could. The juddering movement of the carriage made Leeming’s head pound even more and the clatter of the horse’s hooves resounded painfully in his eardrums. He could not wait to reach his destination.
By the time he finally got to Colbeck’s office, he was still a little unsteady on his feet. Colbeck took charge at once, sitting him down, pouring him a glass of whisky from a bottle concealed in his desk then gently bathing his face with cold water.
‘I hate to send you home to your wife in this state,’ he said.
‘Estelle is used to seeing me with a few bruises, sir,’ said Leeming, bravely. ‘Her father was a policeman, remember. She knows that it’s a dangerous job.’
‘You were lucky, Victor.’
‘I don’t
‘No,’ said Colbeck, sympathetically, ‘I’m sure you don’t but it could have been far worse. If you were knocked out, somebody might have taken the opportunity to inflict serious wounds. Tell me exactly what happened.’
‘I’m not certain that I remember it all, Inspector.’
After another restorative drink of whisky, Leeming gave a halting account of his time outside Josie Murlow’s house, recalling his folly in accosting Luke Watts and his lack of concentration when he stepped into the alleyway. Colbeck seized on one detail.
‘The boy delivered a warning to the house,’ he decided. ‘Josie Murlow was told that she should take a
