‘They’re not forgeries.’
‘Even so,’ she said, hesitating.
He laughed again. ‘Am I held in such low esteem that you do not believe I could acquire the money honestly? I have to disappoint you,’ he went on. ‘I neither robbed a bank nor dressed up as a highwayman to waylay an unsuspecting coach. I won at cards, Kitty. I had a run of luck at the card table last night that was unprecedented. And that, my dear sister, is how I’m able to pay off my debt to you.’
‘Thank you, Marcus,’ she said, taking the money and the kiss that came with it. ‘But do not fritter away the rest of your winnings.’
‘No sermons, please – I know when to stop.’
‘Then your judgement has improved.’
‘I’ve put youthful impetuosity behind me,’ he declared, ‘where gambling is concerned, anyway. When it comes to beautiful women, however, it’s a different matter. In that regard, I’m ever prey to impulsive action.’
‘Does that mean you have someone in mind?’
‘I have a dozen ladies in mind, Kitty!’
‘For marriage or for pleasure?’
‘I’m not the marrying kind,’ he said airily. ‘I ventured into holy matrimony once and found it a most inhibiting place to be. I like the freedom of the open road. You were right. I’m essentially a nomad.’
‘How long will you be staying in London?’
‘That depends how well I do during Derby Week.’
‘What happens if your run of luck continues?’
‘Then I’ll probably spend the summer in Paris.’
‘And if you lose at Epsom?’
‘I’ll be back to borrow that money off you again.’
‘It’s no longer available,’ she told him, slipping it into the drawer of a mahogany side-table. ‘The kindest thing I can do is to refuse you any more loans. That will make you stand on your own feet.’
‘I think I’ve finally learnt to do that, Kitty.’
‘I sincerely hope so.’
‘Well,’ he said, collecting his hat, ‘now that I’ve settled my debts, I’ll be on my way. Unless, of course, those keen ears of yours picked up something from Hamilton Fido.’
‘I haven’t even seen him since we last met.’
‘Make a point of doing so.’
‘He’s too preoccupied with the Derby.’
‘Surely he’s taking you to Epsom on his arm.’
‘Yes, he loves to display me.’
‘You’re a jewel among women, Kitty. He wears you with pride. But don’t forget me, will you? Last-minute information is the best kind. I can place my heaviest bet immediately before the race.’ He winked at her. ‘Can I count on your help?’
‘I don’t like to be pestered, Marcus.’
‘Blood is thicker than water.’
‘As you wish,’ she said with a tired smile. ‘I’ll see what I can find out from Hamilton. How will I get in touch with you?’
‘You won’t need to,’ he told her, ‘because I’ll get in touch with you. Thank you again for the loan of that money.’ He kissed her on both cheeks. ‘Take my advice and grow accustomed to the notion that your half-brother will soon be a very wealthy man.’
The Shepherd and Shepherdess was a half-timbered inn, situated on the bank of a river. Built almost three hundred years earlier, it served the needs of the village and also attracted customers from further afield. Since it was only a couple of miles from the stables, it did not take Robert Colbeck long to get there. When they reached the inn, the inspector clambered out of the cab and told the driver to wait.
‘How long will you be, guv’nor?’ asked the man.
‘Long enough,’ said Colbeck, understanding the question.
The man jumped quickly down from the cab, tethered his horse and went into the bar to slake his thirst. Colbeck bought drinks for both of them before introducing himself to the landlord. He asked if he might speak to Bonny Rimmer and, moments later, a short, pretty, dark-haired, rosy-cheeked young woman came into the bar, wiping her hands on her apron. She was plainly terrified at having been summoned by a detective from Scotland Yard. After trying to put her at ease with a few pleasantries, Colbeck requested that they move to somewhere other than the bar. Still apprehensive, Bonny took him to a little room at the rear. As they sat down together, Colbeck put his glass of brandy on the table.
‘I believe you know a jockey named Ned Kyle,’ he said.
‘Yes, sir,’ she replied. ‘He often comes in here.’
‘I’ve just spoken to him at the stables. He struck me as an honest, straightforward person. Would you agree?’
‘Oh, I would. Ned is a good man. He never causes trouble.’
‘Does that mean some of the others do?’
‘They get a bit excited, that’s all,’ said Bonny nervously.
‘What about John Feeny?’
She brightened immediately. ‘John?’
‘Was he rather boisterous at times?’
‘No, sir,’ she replied, ‘he’s always quiet, is John. He likes his beer, mind you – they all do – but he doesn’t have the money to drink too much. That’ll change when he becomes a jockey, though. He might even earn as much as Ned.’
Colbeck felt a surge of pity for her. She was talking as if John Feeny were still alive and about to fulfil his ambitions. When he had spoken to Ned Kyle at the stables, the inspector had learnt two things. The first was that Kyle was completely unaware of his friend’s link with Brian Dowd and the second concerned Bonny Rimmer. During his visits to the inn, John Feeny and the barmaid had developed a close friendship.
From the way she talked about him, it was clear that she was in love with the Irishman. It was equally clear that she believed she would soon see him again. Colbeck had not bought the drink for himself. He moved it across to her before he spoke.
‘I have some sad news to pass on, Miss Rimmer,’ he said.
‘What about?’
‘John Feeny.’
She tensed. ‘Has he been arrested?’
‘It’s rather more serious than that, I’m afraid.’
‘He’s been injured?’
‘John Feeny is dead,’ said Colbeck gently, steadying her with a hand as she reeled from the news. ‘He was murdered.’
Bonny Rimmer was stunned. Her mouth fell open, her eyes darted wildly and her whole body trembled. When she began to sob convulsively, Colbeck provided her with a handkerchief and a consoling arm. Since she was in no state to hear the full details of the crime, he decided to keep them from her. He waited until she was over the worst of the shock, then he held the brandy to her lips.
‘Drink some of this,’ he coaxed. ‘It might help you.’
Bonny consented to take a sip. She pulled a face at the sharp taste of the brandy but it helped to bring her to her senses. Of her own volition, she took a second, longer sip before turning her watery eyes on Colbeck.
‘Who could possibly want to harm John?’ she asked.
‘That’s what I’m trying to find out, Miss Rimmer, and I’m hoping that you might be able to assist me.’ She shrugged hopelessly. ‘Ned Kyle told me that you and John were good friends. Is that true?’ She nodded. ‘According to him, John was always talking about you at the stables.’
‘Was he?’ The information brought a modicum of comfort and she managed a pale smile. ‘We liked each other.’
‘When did you last see him?’
‘It must have been over a week ago.’
‘How did he seem?’
‘John was very happy,’ she said. ‘He was always happy when we were together. But he did warn me that he wouldn’t be able to see me for a while because of Derby Week. Mr Stenton wanted the grooms on duty all the time to guard the horses. John said he’d try to sneak off but he never turned up.’ She burst into tears again. ‘Now I know why.’
Colbeck offered her the brandy once more and she had another sip.