‘An hour ago you’d have sworn that Lord Hendry would never shoot someone in cold blood then commit suicide. Yet that’s exactly what happened, Miss Lavender. In extreme situations, people will do anything. You say that your half-brother introduced you to Mr Fido?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Did it ever cross your mind that he did so on purpose?’
‘Not until now,’ she said, reeling from the thought. ‘Marcus said that he had my best interests at heart but, all the time, he was just using me. He wanted someone close to Hamilton so that he was aware of his movements. He even stole my hatbox.’
‘I need to speak to Mr Johnson immediately.’
‘Yes, yes, you must.’
‘Then where is he?’
‘Marcus went off to see a friend. He didn’t give me his name.’
‘Not to worry,’ said Colbeck. ‘I believe that I know it.’
The argument took place in an empty stall. Aware that they might be overheard by someone in the yard outside, both men kept their voices down but there was no diminution in their intensity of feeling. Marcus Johnson gesticulated with both hands while Brian Dowd kept his fists bunched as if ready to throw a punch at any moment.
‘Give me my money!’ demanded Johnson.
‘You’ll not get a penny from me,’ said the other.
‘We had an agreement, Brian.’
‘The agreement was for you to make sure that Odysseus and Merry Legs didn’t run. I wanted Lord Hendry and Hamilton Fido out of the race but not at the cost of killing their horses.’
‘I tried to disable them and failed.’
‘That didn’t mean you had to cripple one horse and poison another. You went too far, Marcus, and that meant the police were alerted. I don’t hold with harming racehorses. There were easier ways of taking them out of the race. I told you what to do.’
‘Your methods didn’t work,’ said Johnson.
‘Neither did yours – and that’s why I’m not paying you.’
‘I was depending on that money, Brian.’
‘Then you should have done as you were told.’
‘I used my own initiative. The irony is that you didn’t need to get your rivals out of the race. Limerick Lad beat both of them, as it was. Unfortunately, Aleppo sneaked a win at the post.’
‘Years of hard work came to nothing,’ said Dowd sourly. ‘It was the best chance I had to win the Derby and cock a snook at both Fido and Lord Hendry. Instead of which, I get nothing.’
‘Limerick Lad was an honourable second.’
‘I only settle for first place. I’ve lost thousands on this race.’
‘You’re not the only one,’ said Johnson. ‘After listening to your boasts about how Tim Maguire would ride your horse to victory, I put every penny I had on Limerick Lad winning. In return, I got nothing.’ He took a menacing step forward. ‘So I need the money that was promised to me at the start.’
‘I don’t have it,’ said Dowd, ‘and even if I did I wouldn’t give it to you. Get out of here and never let me see your face again.’
‘I won’t take orders from you.’
‘You’re asking for trouble, aren’t you?’
‘I’m asking you to remember that we’re in this together,’ said Johnson, voice rising out of control. ‘On your orders, I killed John Feeny. On your orders, I tried to bring his head to you in Ireland. On your orders, I caused mayhem at the stables belonging to Lord Hendry and Hamilton Fido. You can’t get rid of me that easily. We’re partners in crime, Brian. We’re accomplices.’
‘Not any more!’ said Dowd, flinging himself at Johnson.
They grappled in the middle of the stall and flailed around in the straw. The fight was short-lived. Before either of them could land a telling blow, the stable door was flung open and Colbeck came in with Leeming at his shoulder. The combatants stood back from each other.
‘I’ve never heard such a frank confession before,’ said Colbeck. ‘The sergeant and I are very grateful to Mr Johnson for clarifying the details. We were standing outside while he did so. There’s one more crime to add to the list,’ he added, waving a letter in the air. ‘I’m talking about the theft of a painting from Lord Hendry’s house.’
‘That was nothing to do with me,’ protested Dowd.
‘I’m not accusing you, sir. Mr Johnson is the culprit. This letter was found in Lord Hendry’s pocket. It gives instructions about where he can leave £3000 to buy the portrait back. That money will never be paid or collected. Lord Hendry is dead.’
Johnson and Dowd traded a look of utter amazement.
‘He committed suicide,’ explained Leeming, ‘immediately after he had shot Hamilton Fido. Both of your rivals have perished, Mr Dowd.’
‘Is this true?’ gasped the Irishman.
‘We were witnesses to the shooting, sir.’
‘When I searched Lord Hendry’s pockets,’ said Colbeck, ‘I found this second demand. I showed it to your half-sister, Mr Johnson, and she was kind enough to identify the handwriting as yours.’
‘Kitty must be mistaken,’ said Johnson.
‘No, sir – she won’t ever make a mistake about you again. Now that she sees you in your true light, she knows you for what you are.’
‘Brian is to blame – he put me up to it.’
‘Shut your bleeding gob!’ yelled Dowd.
Johnson laughed. ‘Compliments pass when the quality meet.’
‘This is all your fault.’
‘You are just as guilty, Mr Dowd,’ said Colbeck. ‘This whole business sprang out of your hatred of John Feeny. You never forgave him for standing up to you. When you heard that he was working at the stables owned by Hamilton Fido, you saw a chance to get your revenge on the lad and cause some embarrassment for one of your rivals at the same time. It was a clever ruse.’
‘Getting that hatbox delivered to you,’ said Leeming, ‘made it seem as if you were the victim and not the man who instigated the crime in the first place. You fooled us at first. What let you down was that you tried to do it again.’
‘Yes,’ said Colbeck. ‘When I discovered that you had forged the letter supposedly sent to your jockey, I became very suspicious. I was convinced that you lied to me about John Feeny.’
‘Feeny was a vile little bugger!’ roared Dowd. ‘When I threw him out of my stables, he went round telling everyone that I was a cheat and a bully. If he hadn’t fled to England, I’d have strangled him with my bare hands.’
‘So you had no compunction about ordering his murder?’
‘None at all, Inspector – it was what he deserved.’
‘The severed head was my suggestion,’ said Johnson airily. ‘I thought it would add a suitably macabre touch. When Kitty told me about the hatbox that Lord Hendry had bought her, I couldn’t resist stealing it. At one brilliant stroke, I linked Lord Hendry and Hamilton Fido with the death of Brian’s former groom. There was an almost poetic roundness to it all.’
‘It’s not one that I appreciate, sir,’ said Leeming.
‘Nor me,’ added Colbeck. ‘Let’s take these gentlemen into custody, Victor. I’m sure that Superintendent Tallis will be delighted to meet both of them – on their way to the gallows.’
Leeming produced a pair of handcuffs to put on Dowd but the Irishman tried to buffet him aside and escape. The sergeant had arrested far too many men to be brushed aside. Sticking out a leg, he tripped Dowd up then sat astride him and pulled his arms behind him so that he could put on the handcuffs. He then got up, grabbed the prisoner by the collar of his frock coat and hoisted him to his feet. Dowd was still swearing violently as he was pushed unceremoniously out of the stall. Colbeck was left alone with Marcus Johnson.
‘You seem remarkably unperturbed, sir,’ said Colbeck, taking out a pair of handcuffs.
‘I backed the wrong horse in every sense, Inspector.’