charm the women then, will you? Do you soil yourself when you hang? Do you lose all control, all dignity?’ She was screeching now, her face twisted with the pain of her own imagination.
‘Actually, the function of the noose and the drop of the trapdoor is to break your neck,’ he replied. ‘You are supposed to die instantly. Does that take the pleasure away for you?’
She stared at him, breathing heavily. The dog now was fully concentrated on the front door, the growl low in its throat, lips curled back off the teeth.
If she realised there was someone at the front — please God in heaven, the police — then she would stop, perhaps even claim he had attacked her. But this was the moment of her private triumph, when she could tell him exactly how she had brought about his ruin.
He made a sudden movement towards her.
The dog swung round, barking again.
Narraway raised the chair, legs towards it, just in case it leaped.
‘Frightened, Victor?’ she said with relish.
‘Why now?’ he asked, trying to keep his voice level. He nearly succeeded, but she must have seen the sheen of sweat on his face. ‘It was McDaid, wasn’t it? He told you something? What? Why does he want all this? He used to be my friend.’
‘You’re pathetic!’ she said, all but choking over her words. ‘He hates you as much as we all do!’
‘What did he tell you?’ he persisted.
‘How you seduced my whore of a mother and then betrayed her. You killed her, and let my father hang for it!’ She was sobbing now.
‘Then why kill poor Cormac?’ he asked. ‘Was he expendable, simply to create a murder for which you could blame me? It had to be you who killed him, you’re the only one the dog wouldn’t bark at, because you feed her when Cormac’s away. She’s used to you in the house. She’d have raised the roof if it had been me.’
‘Very clever,’ she agreed. ‘But by the time you come to trial, no one else will know that. And no one will believe your sister, if that’s who she is, because they’ll all know she would speak for you.’
‘Did you kill Cormac just to get me?’ he asked again.
‘No! I killed him because he didn’t raise a hand to try to save my father! He did nothing! Absolutely nothing!’
‘You were only five or six years old,’ he pointed out.
‘McDaid told me!’ she sobbed.
‘Ah yes, McDaid — the Irish hero who wants to turn all Europe upside down in a revolution to change the social order, sweep away the old and bring in the new. And do you imagine that will bring Ireland freedom? To him you are expendable, Talulla, just as I am, or your parents, or anyone else.’
It was at that point that she let go of the dog’s collar and shrieked at it to attack, just as the police threw open the door to the hall and Narraway raised the chair as the dog leaped and sent him flying, to land hard on his back, all but winding him.
One of the policemen grabbed the animal by its collar, half choking it. The other seized hold of Talulla.
Narraway climbed to his feet, coughing and gasping to get his breath.
‘Thank you,’ he said hoarsely. ‘I hope you have been there rather longer than it would appear.’
‘Long enough,’ the elder of the two responded. ‘But there’ll still be one or two charges for you to answer, like assaulting a policeman while in custody, and escaping custody. If I were you, I’d run like hell, and never come back to Ireland, Mr Narraway.’
‘Very good advice.’ Narraway stood to attention, gave the man a smart salute, then turned and ran, exactly as he had been told.
In the morning there was no alternative for Charlotte but to have a hasty breakfast, then, with Mrs Hogan’s assistance, send for a carriage to take herself and all the baggage as far as the police station where Narraway was held.
It was a miserable ride. She had come up with no better solution than simply to tell the police that she had further information on the death of Cormac O’Neil, and hope that she could persuade someone with judgement and influence to listen to her.
As she drew closer and closer the idea seemed to grow even more hopeless.
The carriage was about a hundred yards away from the police station. She was dreading being put out on the footpath with more luggage than she could possibly carry, and a story she was already convinced no one would believe. Then abruptly the carriage pulled up short and the driver leaned down to speak to someone Charlotte could only partially see.
‘We are not there yet!’ she said desperately. ‘Please go further. I cannot possibly carry these cases so far. In fact, I can’t carry them at all.’
‘Sorry, miss,’ the driver said sadly, as if he felt a real pity for her. ‘That was the police. Seems there’s been an escape of a very dangerous prisoner in the night. They just discovered it, an’ the whole street’s blocked off.’
‘A prisoner?’
‘Yes, miss. A terrible dangerous man, they say. Murdered a man yesterday, near shot his head off, an’ now he’s gone like magic. Just disappeared. Went to see him this morning, and his cell is empty. They’re not allowing any carriages through.’
Charlotte stared at him as if she could barely understand his words, but her mind was racing. Escape. Murdered a man yesterday. It had to be Narraway, didn’t it? He must have known even more certainly than she did just how much people hated him, how easy it would be for them to see all the evidence the way they wished to. Who would believe him — an Englishman with his past — rather than Talulla Lawless, who was Sean O’Neil’s daughter — perhaps even more importantly, Kate’s daughter? Who would want to believe she had shot Cormac?
The driver was still staring at Charlotte, waiting for her decision.
‘Thank you. .’ she fumbled for words. She did not want to leave Narraway alone and hunted in Ireland, but there was no way in which she could help him. She had no idea in which direction he would go, north or south, inland, or even across the country to the west. She did not know if he had friends, old allies, anyone to turn to.
Then another thought came to her with a new coldness. When they arrested him, they would have taken his belongings, his money. He would be penniless. How would he survive, let alone travel? She must help him. Except that she had very little money herself.
Please heaven he did not trust any of the people he knew in Dublin! Every one of them would betray him; they couldn’t afford not to. They were tied to each other by blood and memory, old grief too deep to forget.
‘Miss?’ the driver interrupted her thoughts.
Charlotte was marked as Narraway’s sister. She would be a liability to him. There was nothing she could do to help here. Her only hope was to go back to London and somehow find Pitt, or at the very least, ask for Aunt Vespasia’s help.
‘Please take me to the dock,’ she said as steadily as she could. ‘I think it would be better if I were to catch the next steamer back to England. Whatever dock that is, if you please.’
‘Yes, miss.’The driver climbed back onto the box again and urged his horse forwards and round. They made a wide turn in the street and headed away from the police station.
The journey was not very long, but to Charlotte it seemed to take ages. They passed down the wide, handsome streets. Some of the roads would have taken seven or eight carriages abreast, but they seemed half deserted compared with the noisy, crushing jams of traffic in London. She was desperate to leave, and yet also torn with regrets. One day she wanted to come back, anonymous and free of burdens, simply to enjoy it. Now she could only lean forward, peering out and counting the minutes until she reached the dock. The whole business of alighting with the luggage and the crowds waiting to board the steamer was awkward and very close to desperate. She tried to move the cases without leaving anything where it could be taken, and at the same time keep hold of her reticule and pay for a ticket. In the jostling of people she was bumped and knocked. Twice she nearly lost her own case while trying to move Narraway’s, and find money ready to pay the fare.
‘Can I help you?’ a voice said close to her.
She was about to refuse when she felt his hand over hers and he took Narraway’s case from her. She was furious and ready to cry with frustration. She lifted her foot with its nicely heeled boot and brought it down sharply
