‘Don’t worry, Victor,’ he said, reassuringly. ‘The place won’t be overrun by undergraduates. They disappear in the summer and leave Oxford to the townspeople. You probably won’t even glimpse a gown or a mortarboard.’
‘Is that what you had to wear, sir?’
‘Forget about me. Just think about Mrs Vaughan and her daughter.’
‘I’ll feel like an interloper in that college.’
‘But you’ll behave like the good detective that you are. You’ll watch, listen and absorb every detail that may be of use to us. Sir Marcus was economical with facts about his daughter, perhaps because he saw so little of her. Mrs Vaughan, I hope, will be more helpful. From what we’ve heard about her, she sounds as if she’s very forthright.’
Leeming shifted in his seat. He was as uneasy in the presence of forthright women as he was when confronted by members of the peerage. Adding to his discomfort was the scene that was conjured up slowly in front of him. It was a forbidding panorama. Oxford was an amiable jumble of spires, domes, towers, churches, colleges, civic buildings, shops and houses, all of them seemingly wreathed in a kind of medieval grandeur that gave them a sheen of nobility. Colbeck nudged him in the ribs and indicated an ancient structure to the right.
‘Is that a castle?’ asked Leeming.
‘It used to be,’ said Colbeck. ‘It’s been converted into a prison.’ He saw his companion relax at once. ‘I thought that fact would please you, Victor. Don’t be overwhelmed by Oxford. There’s nothing sacred about it. St Aldate’s is as squalid and insanitary as Seven Dials. Like every other town, it has its fair share of villains and ne’er-do-wells. I venture to suggest that we’ll meet one or two of them in due course.’
The Master of University College was slight of build with shoulders rounded by decades of study. When roused, however, he belied his appearance. Stunned at first by Tunnadine’s blunt accusation, he soon showed his resilience. His wife also recovered her composure with speed. She let him issue the first denial.
‘You are woefully mistaken, sir,’ said Vaughan, stepping towards their visitor. ‘I should have thought that a man of your intelligence had better things to do on a train journey than to invent such arrant poppycock.’
‘Hear, hear!’ said Cassandra on the sidelines.
‘Having unfairly traduced my wife and my daughter, you have the audacity to bear your fangs at my younger son. I can say categorically that George would never lower himself to the antics you allege.’
Tunnadine sniffed. ‘Then you clearly do not know him as well as you should.’
‘Who knows a child better than his parents?’ demanded Cassandra.
‘George is no longer a child — though he still has the childish inclinations that guided me to my conclusion. Your niece and her maid did not disappear on that train. They were smuggled past you at the railway station as part of a jape conceived by your madcap son.’
She flicked a hand. ‘George is above such nonsense.’
‘He wasn’t above stealing the chaplain’s dog and hiding the animal in a broom cupboard,’ said Tunnadine. ‘Nor could he resist the urge to purloin the false teeth belonging to one of the emeritus fellows. Then, of course, there was the time when he was so inebriated that he climbed onto the roof of the chapel and began to shed his clothing.’ He shared a crooked smile between them. ‘Must I go on?’
‘George has let his high spirits get the better of him at times,’ conceded Vaughan, ‘but that’s all in the past. He’s outgrown such behaviour and adopted a more responsible attitude to life.’
‘That’s not what Imogen told me. When she listed his escapades, she said she was bracing herself for another of George’s japes when she arrived here. Neither she nor I anticipated that it would involve kidnap. Much as she loves her cousin,’ said Tunnadine, ‘she does feel that she’s a target for his amusement. George needs putting firmly in his place and I intend to do exactly that.’
‘You’ve no call to interfere in our family matters,’ warned Cassandra.
‘I have a right to protect my future wife from being the butt of a joke.’
‘George would never go to the lengths that you claim.’
‘Apart from anything else,’ said Vaughan, ‘he’s not even in Oxford. He’s moved to London to pursue his career as an artist.’
‘What’s to stop him sneaking back without telling you?’
‘He wouldn’t do that.’
‘According to Imogen, he’s done it more than once. George told her that he’s a free spirit, subject to nobody’s control. He needs to be smacked down,’ growled Tunnadine. ‘I’ll put a stop to these confounded tricks of his.’
‘You’re barking up the wrong tree, sir,’ said Vaughan.
‘Yes,’ said Cassandra with well-bred venom. ‘You’ve already hurled false accusations at me, our daughter and our younger son. Why does Percy, our elder son, escape your censure? Or are you going to charge him with a crime as well?’
Tunnadine was adamant. ‘George is the culprit here. I’ll wait until he tires of his silly game and releases Imogen.’
‘You’ll be wasting your time,’ declared Vaughan. ‘George is in London and no silly game exists. On the train journey back to London, I’d advise you to think of a more convincing explanation of the agonising situation that confronts us.’
‘I shall be staying in Oxford overnight.’
Cassandra was blunt. ‘We’ll not be able to offer you hospitality.’
‘There’ll be a room at Brasenose for me. I’ve done so much on behalf of my alma mater that I may come and go there as I wish. And before you try to send me on my way,’ he went on as Vaughan opened the door wide to usher him out, ‘I must tell you that I intend to remain until I’ve met the two detectives on their way here.’
Vaughan blinked. ‘I know of no detectives.’
‘They were engaged by Sir Marcus who sent telegraphs to Scotland Yard. We don’t need the celebrated Inspector Colbeck. His presence here has been rendered superfluous,’ said Tunnadine, complacently. ‘I’ve already solved the riddle of Imogen’s disappearance.’
Two figures suddenly materialised in the open doorway.
‘I’ll be most interested to hear how you did it, sir,’ said Colbeck.
CHAPTER FIVE
Vernon Tolley did not know whether to be reassured or unsettled by the visit of the two detectives. Colbeck and Leeming had struck him as shrewd and approachable. They’d asked searching questions yet treated him with respect as they did so instead of adopting the condescending tone more usual among his social superiors. Their meeting with Tolley had given him more than a glimmer of hope. At the same time, he reflected, the very fact that they’d been summoned from Scotland Yard showed the gravity of the situation. They’d arrived at the house several hours after the fateful departure of the two women from Shrub Hill station. The trail would thus have gone very cold. It meant that Tolley’s hope was tempered with anxiety. No matter how clever or confident the detectives were, they would start their investigation at a severe disadvantage. They could well fail. The thought that he might never know what had happened to his beloved Rhoda Wills made him shudder.
He was coming out of the stables when a woman waddled towards him.
‘What are you doing out here, Vernon?’ she asked with concern.
‘The horses had to be fed.’
‘You always put them first. A coachman needs to be fed as well, you know. Come along inside and see what I saved for you.’
‘I’d rather stay out here, Win.’
‘Aren’t you hungry?’
‘I’ve too much on my mind to worry about food.’
‘I’m the same,’ she said, changing tack and investing her voice with a sense of foreboding. ‘This is a sad day for us all and no mistake. It’s tragic, that’s what it is. Sir Marcus and his wife have seen their only child snatched cruelly away from them. This house will be in mourning for a long time.’