‘Mr Ings betrayed me,’ she said, finally controlling her sobs and dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. ‘He swore that he loved me. He told me that he would leave his wife and that we would be together. Yet all the time…’
She put both hands to her mouth to stifle another fit of crying. Colbeck could well understand how the relationship with William Ings had developed. His position at the Post Office would have impressed Bella Woodhead and made her vulnerable to any favour that was shown to her. Patently, Ings had exploited her but the detective could not understand why. Since the man’s taste ran to women like Polly Roach and Kate Piercey, why had he turned to someone as virginal and inexperienced as Bella Woodhead?
‘Did he offer to marry you?’ he wondered, softly.
‘Of course,’ she replied with a touch of indignation. ‘Do you think that I would have become involved with him on any other basis? Mr Ings was a decent man – or so I thought at the time. He told me that he would arrange a divorce somehow. All that happened between us, Inspector, was an exchange of vows. I must ask you to believe that.’
‘I accept your word without reservation, Miss Woodhead.’
‘Mr Ings wanted everything to be done properly.’
‘Properly?’
‘He wanted to make me his wife so that we could, in time, live together openly. That was why he insisted on meeting my parents.’
‘Oh?’
‘He knew how protective they were of me – especially my father. At first he was very unhappy about my friendship, but Mr Ings persuaded him in the end. Father and he got on well. In fact,’ she said, ‘when he came to the house, he spent more time talking to my father than he did to me.’ She blew her nose into the handkerchief. ‘Now I know why.’
‘Do you?’
‘Yes. Mr Ings only wanted to hear about Father’s job.’
‘Why?’ asked Colbeck. ‘Where does your father work?’
‘At the Royal Mint.’
It was a warm day but there was nevertheless a fire in the grate. Sir Humphrey Gilzean tossed another bundle of envelopes on to it and, putting one hand on the marble mantelpiece to steady himself, stirred the blaze with a poker. Wisps of black paper went up the chimney.
‘That’s the last of them, Thomas,’ he observed.
‘Good,’ said the other. ‘Such a dreary business, reading through other people’s correspondence.’
‘Dreary but rewarding. How much did Lord Holcroft give us?’
‘Five hundred pounds.’
‘This mistress of his must be a remarkable lady if she is deemed to be worth five hundred pounds. Lord Holcroft would rather lose the money than surrender the charms of Miss Anna Grayle.’
‘All that money for two pieces of stationery.’
‘And not a blow given or a risk taken,’ noted Gilzean. ‘Blackmail is a much easier way to make a living than by robbing trains. Secrecy is a valuable commodity, Thomas. I wish that we had more of it to sell.’
‘So do I, Humphrey.’
They were in the library at Gilzean’s house, an extensive property that overlooked a formal garden of almost three acres. Thomas Sholto was the bearded individual who had accosted Lord Holcroft in Hyde Park with a copy of the compromising letter. Like his friend, he was a man of impressive demeanour and military bearing. Sholto was pleased at their record of success.
‘Mr Blower was a more difficult target,’ he recalled.
‘Remind me who he was.’
‘The financier who was fishing in murky waters.’
‘Ah, yes,’ said Gilzean. ‘Mr Jeremiah Blower. His letter disclosed confidential information about a forthcoming merger. Had his company known how treacherous he was being, they would have dismissed him on the spot. What value did we set on his ill-judged letter?’
‘Three hundred pounds.’
‘Yet he refused to pay up.’
‘Initially,’ said Sholto. ‘He made all kinds of wild threats and was even foolish enough to strike out at me. He soon regretted that. I knocked him flat. And because he had the gall to haggle with me, I put up the price. He ended up paying twice as much as we asked.’
‘What with Lord Holcroft and the others, we’ve made a tidy profit out of this little venture. I told you that we should steal the mail bags as well. Admittedly,’ said Gilzean, watching the flames die down, ‘we had to pick our way through a deal of worthless trivia, but the result more than justified the effort involved. And we learnt a valuable lesson in the process.’
‘Be careful what you commit to paper.’
‘Precisely, Thomas.’
Sholto rubbed his hands together. ‘When do we strike again?’
‘Soon,’ said Gilzean. ‘The important thing was to ensure that there were no loose ends hanging. Thanks to you, the only two people who could have led this Inspector Colbeck to us are now in no position to speak to anyone.’
‘Daniel Slender’s head cracked open at one blow,’ recalled Sholto with a grin. ‘It was all over in less than thirty seconds. Mr Ings had a much harder skull.’
‘Of more use to us was the fact that both of them had soft brains. They foolishly believed that we’d let them live when they knew too much about us. How could they be so naïve?’
‘It served our purpose, Humphrey.’
‘Supremely well.’
‘Killing the pair of them was child’s play,’ boasted Sholto.
‘It should be for a trained soldier like you, Thomas. The beauty of the two murders is,’ said Gilzean, smugly, ‘that they help to confuse this gifted detective who is supposed to be on our trail. Inspector Robert Colbeck will never be able to connect the victims with us. We are free to make our next move.’
Superintendent Edward Tallis was in an even more irascible mood than usual. Apart from the criticism he was receiving in the press, he was troubled by toothache and smarting from the reproaches of the Police Commissioners. Two cigars did nothing to dispel his feeling that he was the victim of unjust persecution. Summoned to his office, Colbeck decided to take Victor Leeming with him, not because he thought there would be safety in numbers but because he wanted his colleague to be given some credit for his intuition.
When Tallis had stopped fulminating, Colbeck said his piece.
‘Valuable information has come into our hands, sir,’ he explained. ‘We have learnt that William Ings befriended a female colleague at the Post Office in order to win the confidence of her father, Albert Woodhead. It transpires that Mr Woodhead is employed at the Royal Mint.’
‘So?’
‘We now know where the other breach of security occurred. An unguarded remark by Mr Woodhead about the transfer of money was seized on by Mr Ings and passed on to the robbers. Victor’s instinct told him that a leak had occurred at the Mint,’ continued Colbeck, turning to his colleague. ‘I believe that he deserves some praise.’
‘Yes,’ said Tallis, grudgingly. ‘I suppose that he does.’
Leeming took his cue. ‘I’ve just returned from my third visit to the Mint, sir,’ he said, ‘where I spoke to the manager, Charles Omber. He confirmed that Albert Woodhead had owned up to his folly. Even though it was not deliberate, he has been suspended from his job.’
‘And is full of contrition,’ said Colbeck. ‘After his daughter came to see me this morning, I called on Mr Woodhead and found him in a sorry state. It is not only his humiliating suspension that is upsetting him. The murder of William Ings has brought to the light the cruel way in which he used Miss Woodhead. Her father feels that, to some extent, he may have condoned it.’
‘This is all very interesting, Inspector,’ said Tallis, brooding behind his desk, ‘but where does it get us?’