“LET US NOT DESPAIR!” cried Robert. “Look! We might not be too late yet.” He pointed at another door, small and dark, in the corner of the room. It was partly hidden by a display case and a large plant in a pot. And it was ajar, as they could see from the faintest line of paler grey down one side.
They quickly found that it led, via a small lobby, to the alleyway at the back of the building. Mr Wiseman followed them and then said, “You go on and pursue her but the alarm must now be raised. This is the time for the police to be called in; nothing can be done without their help now.”
“I agree,” said Adelia. “And you have suffered enough damage and cannot be involved in another altercation – please, will you go to the nearest station-house? You have all the information that you need.”
He was gone before she had barely finished speaking. They had no more time to lose.
The remaining four of them could see only one way out of the alley and they ran towards it. It let out onto the main street which was busy with slow-moving carts, cabs and carriages.
And there she was, up ahead of them. They all cried out, “Stop!” with one voice and while heads turned their way, Mrs Dymchurch did not falter. She hailed a cab, which was easy as the traffic was slow enough that she was in no danger even though she simply stepped out into the road with one arm in the air. A man swung down from his seat, helping her up, although as soon as the cab had stopped, she was already halfway into the cab by her own means. The door was slammed shut.
“Hey, hey, stop,” yelled Theodore, jumping out in front of another cab, which served around him as the cabbie swore violently.
“No, wait,” shouted Robert. “We can be as swift on foot, we two; let the ladies stay behind together.”
Adelia’s frustration rose at that, even while she saw the sense in it, but her passion would not let her be left behind. Even Charlotte, whose feet must have been agony in her thin shoes by that point, kept up with them all as they pursued the escaping carriage.
The cab drew ahead and Adelia’s hopes began to fade but then it was stopped at a junction and they redoubled their efforts to catch up with it. Theodore and Robert went around the outside, out into the road, Robert to grab the horse’s reins and the other to wrench open the door.
Mrs Dymchurch refused to be trapped and she flung open the other door of the cab, on the side by the pavement, leaping out before Theodore could jump up into the carriage to grab her.
But Charlotte and Adelia were waiting on the other side of the cab, on the pavement, and they were upon her before her feet hit the muddy slabs. Adelia was reaching out for Mrs Dymchurch’s arms to pin them to her sides when Mrs Dymchurch went still all of a sudden, looking past them with a smile appearing on her face.
It was enough to distract Adelia and the tiny movement of her head brought the newcomer into her vision.
A servant was standing there, a woman, with a cudgel upraised in her delicate hand. The bulbous end was studded with nails. The weapon was an image of horror against the youthful beauty of the woman but there was nothing but confidence and malice in her glowing green eyes.
Those eyes were familiar.
“Do I warn them first, or just smack them anyway?” she asked, her voice grating with the accent of the streets. The young woman swung it towards Adelia’s head and she only just leaped back in time. Robert was still holding the horse while the cabbie tried to wrestle back the reins and Theodore had now come around the side of the carriage, and stopped dead when he saw what else was happening.
Mrs Dymchurch laughed. “Smack them if they move. Hit her in particular,” she said, pointing at Adelia. “She’s a woman, and she’s old. That will tug their heart strings more than if you went for one of the men. But hit her next,” she added, pointing at Charlotte. “In fact, do that as soon as I am gone, for she is a two-faced weasel who spies on her friends and lies behind their backs.”
Adelia wanted to jump in and defend her daughter but her mouth had gone dry. A crowd had gathered all around them, pressing particularly from behind the young woman with the cudgel in her hand.
And one figure in particular shoved his way to the front of the crowd. It was impossible to see his face, due to the hood drawn down low. When he raised his right hand, flinging aside the great swing of his cloak, he revealed a pistol and the muzzle came to rest at the back of the young woman’s head.
He cocked it slowly and deliberately.
“I think not,” he said in a casual way. There were echoes of dashing highwayman in his laconic air and a thrill ran through the crowd.
The woman dropped her weapon with a startled squeak.
Suddenly the air was filled with whistles and authoritative shouts. The police were arriving, streaming towards them from two directions. Mrs Dymchurch wailed, clutching a parcel tightly to her chest, but it was too late. By the time the constables were upon them, she was held firmly between Adelia and Charlotte, who grinned at one another in triumph while Mrs Dymchurch sagged in defeat.
The police were confused about things, initially, but Theodore stepped forward and introduced himself and even though he only repeated what Adelia had first told them, they began at last to take it all seriously. Robert let the cabbie have his horse back and told the policemen that he didn’t think the cabbie had
