‘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.’
‘Good fortune comes in waves. I’m riding one at the moment.’
‘So am I, Marcus – thanks to you.’
‘Hamilton Fido seemed the obvious choice for you, Kitty,’ he said, ‘and you were in need of some adventure after wasting your favours on Lord Hendry.’
‘I regret ever meeting George now though there were some good times at the start. And like you, I do have a weakness for hobnobbing with the nobility. For that reason,’ she said, ‘I was prepared to endure some of George’s obvious defects.’
‘Too old, too ugly, too mean-spirited.’
‘And far too married.’
‘Why does his wife put up with the old rake?’
‘The wonder is that I endured him for so long,’ said Kitty with rancour. ‘My prospects have improved in every way since I met Hamilton. He’s ten times the man that George ever was.’
They left the house and climbed into the waiting cab. As it set off, Kitty adjusted her dress and tried to ignore the dull ache in her temple. Days after she had received it, the bruise caused by the slash of a cane reminded her that it had not yet healed.
‘Hamilton keeps on at me about Inspector Colbeck,’ she said.
‘Why?’
‘Because the inspector is determined to speak to me.’
‘You know my advice, Kitty,’ he said. ‘It was bad enough having your hatbox turn up in the middle of a murder investigation. Do you want to make it worse by facing the press? That’s what will happen if you cooperate with the police.’
‘Hamilton said that Inspector Colbeck is very discreet.’
‘He has reporters watching his every move. The moment you talk to him, someone will release your name to the newspapers and that could well bring some adverse publicity. You and I are twilight creatures, Kitty. We operate best in the half-dark of anonymity. If names and descriptions of us appear in newspapers, they could be read by people we are anxious to avoid.’
‘There are several of those in my life,’ she said, rolling her eyes, ‘and I daresay you’ve left a trail of disappointed ladies in your wake.’
‘I have,’ he said. ‘All the way from Paris to Perth.’
‘What were you doing in Perth?’
‘I had a brief dalliance with a countess.’
Kitty laughed. ‘You are incorrigible, Marcus!’
‘That makes two of us. We both have a ruthless streak. But you can rid your mind of Inspector Colbeck,’ he went on. ‘He won’t be able to find you in a month of Sundays. When the murder is eventually solved, your unfortunate connection to it will be soon forgotten.’
When she returned from the market, Madeleine Andrews did her household chores then spent the rest of the time working at her easel. It was late afternoon before she had a visitor. Having given up all hope of seeing Bonny Rimmer again, her spirits soared when she heard a tentative knock on the front door. She opened it at once and saw the girl standing there, nervous, frightened and overawed.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Bonny. ‘I was lost.’
‘You got here and that’s the main thing. Come on in.’
The barmaid stepped into the house and looked around. The living room was small but it was larger and more comfortable than the bare room that Bonny occupied at the Shepherd and Shepherdess. The place was neat and tidy. Everything had been recently polished. She stared at the painting of a locomotive on the wall.
‘It’s the Lord of the Isles,’ explained Madeleine.
‘Oh, I see.’
‘It was on display at the Great Exhibition and a friend kindly bought this for me.’ She was about to mention that the friend was actually Robert Colbeck but she thought better of it. ‘I have a keen interest in railways. My father’s an engine driver and I like to draw locomotives.’
She indicated the easel near the window. Bonny went across to inspect the drawing and stood back in amazement. She shook her head in disbelief.