‘He will,’ said Peter, ‘if you and I are as alert as we should be.’
‘I’ll do my best.’
Charlotte looked at herself in the mirror then turned to him for approval.
‘You look as gorgeous as ever, my love.’
‘Thank you, a night at the theatre is a rare luxury for us.’
‘Work must always come first.’
‘We’re entitled to some pleasure, Peter.’
‘What’s the play called?’
‘
Venice Preserv’d
. The talk is that Hannah Granville is nothing short of magnificent.’
‘Is it a comedy or a tragedy?’
‘Oh, I don’t believe she’d act in a comedy. Her gift is for tragedy.’
‘That’s a pity,’ he moaned. ‘We have enough of that in our daily lives. When I go to the theatre, I expect to enjoy a good laugh.’
‘Well, don’t you dare laugh in
Venice Preserv’d
.’
Reaching for his hat, he put it on then offered his arm to his wife. They left the house and walked together along the pavement. His mind veered back to the clerk.
‘This fellow is a lucky man,’ he said. ‘He can just walk into a bank and secure the ransom without undue difficulty. Most people would struggle to raise that amount. They’d either turn to their friends or fall into the hands of gullgropers.’
‘Paul did that once, didn’t he?’
‘Yes, he ran up debts at the card table and couldn’t afford to clear them. I was able to give him a loan but it was insufficient so he went to a gullgroper. They do business with unlucky gamblers all the time. The interest rate was exorbitant. Fortunately,’ said Peter, ‘my brother had a good win soon afterwards so was able to pay off the loan. Since then, he’s been much more careful with money.’
‘Paul has too many expensive tastes.’
‘It makes him work all the harder.’
‘Why aren’t you calling on him for assistance tomorrow?’
‘A woman is less likely to arouse suspicion, Charlotte. If you’re walking in the park, the kidnappers are unlikely to give you a second look.’
‘How many of them are there?’
‘Oh, I think we’re only talking about two people,’ he said. ‘It will be the man and the woman who abducted the cleaner. They’ll know exactly what the gentleman looks like because they followed him at an earlier stage.’
‘What will happen afterwards, Peter?’
‘Afterwards?’
‘Yes, when it’s all over and Mrs Horner is released. Do you think she’ll go back to work at the Home Office? How will she react if she comes face to face with this gentleman who’s in a position to buy her freedom?’ she wondered. ‘She must be undergoing the most harrowing experience.’
Anne Horner clung to the belief that she would one day get out of her cell and put the pain and the accumulated humiliation behind her. When she could move around the cellar, she’d had a degree of freedom but now, chained like a dog, she was unable to stray beyond its length. She was close enough to the grating to feel the air coming in but too far away to see out of it properly. How someone in her position could be described as an asset was beyond her. The deprivation she’d suffered day after day had dulled her brain. Hope and prayer were her only allies and she was beginning to lose faith in both of them. When they went, the descent into black despair was inevitable.
There it was again – the unexplained thud. She leant in the direction of the grating to see if she could identify the sound at last. Thirty seconds later, she heard it again but she still couldn’t understand what the noise was. On the other hand, she could just pick out the sound of voices in the garden. A man and a woman were talking. The odd word and occasional phrase drifted into her ears but she had no idea what the conversation was about. What she heard clearly was their laughter.
It was followed by another thud.
‘You never miss,’ he said, clapping his hands.
‘Mr Ackford taught me well,’ she explained. ‘Practice makes perfect.’
‘I’m glad that he didn’t know
why
you wanted lessons.’
‘He still thinks that I wanted to turn my nephew into Robin Hood.’
‘I’m a little old to be your nephew, Jane,’ he said with a smile, ‘and since you’re younger than me, you are a very peculiar aunt.’
‘How many aunts can hit a target with a bow and arrow?’
‘None can do it as well as you.’
Slipping an arm around her waist, he kissed her and she responded with passion. He was a tall, slim, dark-haired man in his early thirties who radiated a quiet charm. Jane Holdstock was besotted with him. It was for his benefit that she’d taken archery lessons at the shooting gallery. They shared the same objectives and, for his sake, she was prepared to do anything that he wished. When he pulled away from her, he took the bow from her hands and laid it on the ground beside the quiver of arrows.
‘That’s enough practice, I think,’ he said. ‘You are a real Robin Hood.’
‘I’d rather be a Maid Marian.’
‘Then you shall have your wish.’
Taking her by the hand, he led her into the house and up the stairs. When they reached the landing, Jane remembered something.
‘What about Mrs Horner?’ she asked. ‘It’s time for her meal.’
‘Let her wait. We come first.’
As usual, Hannah Granville arrived early at the theatre. She always gave herself plenty of time to get into her costume, apply her make-up and prepare herself fully for the performance by thinking herself into the role. As she powdered the actress that evening, the dresser paid her a fulsome compliment.
‘The manager thought that you were superb last night, Miss Granville,’ she said, respectfully, ‘but, then, you always are.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Everyone is talking about you. They long to see you as Lady Macbeth.’
‘They will do so one day.’
‘It was the role in which Mrs Siddons excelled but I think you would shine even brighter. When do rehearsals begin?’
‘I have not yet signed the contract.’
‘But I thought that you were eager to take on the part.’
‘I need a long rest from the theatre,’ said Hannah, ‘so I’m not able to commit myself at this moment.’
She raised a hand to indicate that she’d been powdered enough then she scrutinised herself in the mirror. Satisfied with her
appearance, she gave a nod and the dresser removed the cloth put around her to protect her costume from the cosmetics. Hannah rose to her feet, walked up and down to make sure that the costume hung properly when she moved then she began to mouth speeches from the play. The dresser melted into invisibility. Nothing was allowed to interfere with the actress’s routine before performance.
After a long while, Hannah became aware of the other woman’s presence.
‘What sort of house do we have?’
‘Every seat has been sold, Miss Granville.’
‘People have a great appetite for tragedy on the stage,’ mused Hannah, ‘whereas they hate it in their own lives.’
‘That’s true. But it’s the great tragic roles that allow an actress like you to soar. Audiences will remember a Belvidera or a Lady Macbeth long after they’ve forgotten a Viola or a Rosalind.’
‘Comedy is for those of lesser emotional scope.’
‘That is what Mr Dalrymple said,’ recalled the dresser.
Hannah smiled. ‘I was quoting him, actually.’
‘He was transported by your performance last night, Miss Granville.’
‘So he told me.’
‘Will Mr Dalrymple be in the audience this evening?’
‘Yes,’ said Hannah, ‘and he’ll be escorting me out of the theatre afterwards. I do so hate being besieged at the stage door.’
‘It’s the price of fame.’
It was not long before the call came for Hannah to take up her position in the wings. She could hear the excited buzz of the audience and it lifted her spirits. When the curtain rose, the commotion gradually faded away and, from the opening line, the play began to exert its grip. By the time that Belvidera swept into view, the audience
was entranced. A burst of applause marked the sight of the tragic heroine but it died away as she began to speak. Hannah’s voice was clear and melodious, a musical instrument with an almost unlimited range; it was complemented by her graceful movement and command of gesture. She dominated the stage effortlessly once again.
Hannah waited until her eyes had adjusted to the glare of candlelight before she let her gaze wander over the audience. She scanned the stalls in the hope of seeing the friendly face she’d been told would be there but she was instead given a sharp jolt. Seated only a few rows away from where she stood was Paul Skillen. Beside him was the attractive woman Hannah had seen with him before. It was like a physical blow. In daring to attend the theatre with someone else, she felt that he was deliberately taunting her and she was so shaken at first that she forgot her lines and was forced to take a prompt. Recovering quickly, she lost herself in her role.
Peter and Charlotte Skillen, meanwhile, looked on in sheer wonder.
Micah Yeomans and Alfred Hale began their day by acting as bodyguards to Viscount Sidmouth as he travelled by carriage to the Home Office. Talk turned at once to the security arrangements for the forthcoming celebrations.
‘I’m glad that everything is now settled,’ said Sidmouth, ‘and that you are happy with what’s been proposed.’
‘If anything,’ opined Yeomans, ‘you will be too well-protected, my lord.’
‘That pleases me and it will please my wife even more.’
‘Nobody will be allowed to spoil what should be a memorable occasion.’
‘On the principle that a second opinion is always valuable,’ said Sidmouth, ‘I asked one of my undersecretaries to look at our
preparations. He, in turn, discussed them with one of my senior clerks. Both were duly impressed.’
‘So were we, my lord,’ said Hale.
‘There is, however, one threat on the horizon.’
‘Our patrols are still searching for the fugitives.’
‘We hope to have them in custody before long,’ said Yeomans. ‘You have no need to fear them, my lord. They threatened to kill you if their demands are not met, yet the joint committee will probably not have reached its verdict by the time we celebrate our victory at Waterloo.’
‘It may have done so,’ warned Sidmouth. ‘Evidence has been taken from all quarters. A swift conclusion may be reached and reported in the newspapers. And something else might incite them to violence.’
‘What’s that, my lord?’
‘The whole nation will be celebrating our victory over the French, obliterating the fact that we actually lost our war against America or, at least, that’s how it appeared after our disastrous defeat at the Battle of New Orleans. That fact will not be ignored by these patriotic sailors. I do hope the Skillen brothers catch them in time.’
‘
We
are more likely to do that,’ said Yeomans, staunchly.
When they reached the Home Office, the two Runners walked him to the front door and waited until he was safely inside. They then went off on their usual rounds. It was mid-morning before Yeomans and Hale stopped off at The Peacock to rest their legs and have a refreshing tankard of ale. Someone was waiting for them.
‘What are you doing here?’ demanded Yeomans.
‘I need to see you.’
‘We’re thirsty. Buy us a drink.’
‘Yes,’ said Hale, ‘we can’t think straight until we’ve had our first taste of ale. Make yourself useful for once.’
Chevy Ruddock was abashed. Keen to divulge what he felt might be valuable intelligence, he was being compelled to part with some of his modest wages in order to satisfy the thirst of the senior Runners. He walked disconsolately to the bar. It was only after they’d quaffed their ale, that the others took any notice of him.
‘Why have you come bothering us here?’ asked Yeomans.
‘Bill Filbert and I were on patrol by the river,’ said Ruddock.
‘We know that.’
‘Someone told us about a fight in that old warehouse tonight.’
‘So?’
‘It’s between someone called Donkey Johnson and another man.’
‘Boxing matches usually
are
between two people,’ said Hale, sarcastically. ‘Why should we be interested by this one?’
‘The other fighter is called the Black Assassin because he really is black.’
‘Lots of them are bare-knuckle fighters. I remember seeing one called the Black Pearl and there was a Black Demon as well. He gave the Game Chicken a real scare at a fight in Portsmouth. The Game Chicken was Hen Pearce. I bet on him once and he earned me a pretty penny.’
‘The man wanted us to place a wager,’ said Ruddock, ‘but Bill got rid of him. Later on, we met someone else who was taking bets. He told us a lot more about the two boxers.’
‘You’re starting to bore me, Ruddock,’ said Yeomans, yawning.
‘Donkey Johnson used to be a waterman. He got that strength by rowing people across the Thames. All the money will be on him.’
‘Fights mean trouble. I hate them.’
‘You haven’t let me tell you about the Black Assassin yet.’
‘What is there to tell us? He’s a nigger and that’s that.’
‘He’s an
American
, sir.’
Yeomans was in the act of sipping his ale. The information made him splutter. Lowering the tankard, he looked across at Hale then both of them turned to Ruddock. They were listening at last.
‘It made me think, you see,’ said Ruddock. ‘This man didn’t know what his real name was but he’s never fought at the warehouse before so he must be a newcomer. If he’s a sailor, he’ll know how to use his fists. They’re always brawling. It could just be – I’m only guessing, mind – that the Black Assassin is the very man that we’ve been looking for.’
‘He could, indeed. Well done, Ruddock!’
‘Thank you, Mr Yeomans.’
‘You kept your wits about you for once,’ said Hale.
‘Bill Filbert thought I was dreaming,’ said Ruddock. ‘He reckoned that we should stay well away from that warehouse but not if he really is our man. I want to be there to find out the truth.’
‘We’ll come with you.’
‘Yes,’ said Yeomans, ‘we certainly will. If the Black Assassin really
is
Moses Dagg, his friend will be there as well. We can nab the pair of them and claim the reward. Apart from Filbert, who else have you told?’
‘Nobody at all,’ replied Ruddock.
‘Keep it that way. This must be our secret.’
‘We mustn’t let the Skillen brothers know about this,’ said Hale. ‘They’ll be green with jealousy if we do their job for them.’
‘I could be wrong,’ said Ruddock. ‘We’ve had black boxers from America coming here before. They get hauled off a plantation and brought to London to be a rich man’s butler or something. Their master also acts as their patron and arranges fights for them. The Black Assassin could be one of those.’
‘He could also be Moses Dagg,’ said Yeomans.
‘What am I to do?’
‘Go back to that warehouse and see if you can find out any more details about the fight. We’ll meet up with you here later on. In the meantime, keep your mouth shut and tell Filbert to do the same. We don’t want this intelligence to leak out.’
‘No,’ said Hale, smirking. ‘We want to be the ones to arrest O’Gara and Dagg. They’re
ours
.’
‘There’s someone else we need to arrest, Alfred,’ said Yeomans.
‘Who’s that?’
‘We want to capture that elusive Irishman who’s been shielding the two fugitives – Dermot Fallon.’
They met by prior arrangement in a quiet lane off Charing Cross. The first thing that Fallon did was to hug his wife. Mary was relieved to see him still at liberty. She assured him that the children were well but that they were short of money. Fallon slipped some coins into her hand and promised that there would be a lot more money to come very soon, explaining that, since they’d last met, much had happened. He told her about the fight and about his expectation of certain victory for Moses Dagg.
‘What will happen then, Dermot?’ she asked, worriedly. ‘Will they be going home to America?’
‘They’ve got something important to do first.’
‘Are they still bent on killing someone?’
‘They don’t make idle threats, Mary.’
‘Oh, I do hope that you won’t be involved. You’re in enough trouble as it is.’
‘Tom is family. If he needs me, I’ll be there.’
‘Please don’t take any risks,’ she pleaded.
‘I was born to take risks,’ he said with a laugh. ‘You knew that
when you married me. And I’m still here. Nothing can touch me, darling, so don’t you fret.’ Embracing her again, he kissed her tenderly on the forehead. ‘You go back home and tell the children I love them and that I expect to see them very soon.’ He released her. ‘Has there been any sight of the Runners?’
‘No, Dermot, they’ve left us alone.’
‘That means I can move back in with you before too long.’
‘What about Tom and Moses?’ she asked. ‘Will they be coming back with you? It will only put us in danger again.’
‘What did I say a moment ago? Don’t you fret. Everything will be all right. Tom and Moses won’t be coming back. As soon as they’ve done what needs to be done, they’ll be on a ship to America.’ He kissed her again. ‘I thought you’d be pleased to see me and all you’ve done is to worry yourself sick.’
Mary smiled. ‘I’m sorry, Dermot. Being with you again is a joy. I hate not having you with us.’ Her frown reappeared. ‘I had an unwelcome visitor.’
‘Who was it?’
‘Donal Kearney.’
‘What did that traitor want?’ he asked, muscles tightening.
‘He tried to persuade me that he wasn’t the informer,’ she said. ‘Everyone else has shunned him so he tried to win me over. I told him that you’d made up your mind and that nothing would change it.’
‘He
dared
to bother you?’
‘He was in a terrible state, Dermot. They beat him up badly.’
‘I’m not standing for that, Mary.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘Nobody is allowed to bother you, least of all that two-faced chimney sweep. Where is he now?’
‘He’s trapped in the tenement with his family.’
‘Then I’ll pay him a visit this afternoon,’ said Fallon, anger building. ‘It’s high time that Kearney was wiped off the face of the earth.’
After a fruitless morning asking questions in yet another Irish community, Paul Skillen returned to the shooting gallery for refreshment. When he joined her in the office, Charlotte gave him a cordial welcome.
‘I’d never take you for a costermonger, Paul,’ she said. ‘You may look the part but there’s a kind of nobility about you that always pokes through.’
‘Luckily, nobody else noticed it. The Irish took me as one of their own.’
‘Have you found any trace of the fugitives?’
‘No, Charlotte, I met dozens by the name of O’Gara but none of them had a relative in the American navy. I came back here for a rest.’
‘Then you can join us in a meal when the others finish work. Gully is teaching a young boxer and Jem is fencing someone. He may be small but Jem is a match for most people with a sword in his hand.’
‘Where’s Peter?’
‘He’ll be schooling someone in how to hand over money to the kidnappers. Peter wants me there when the exchange takes place. I’ll take Meg Rooke.’
‘Is she that pretty servant of yours?’
‘Yes, we’ll appear to be in Hyde Park for a stroll whereas I’ll really be there to keep watch on what takes place.’