The Repentant Rake

    'What is the matter, Jacob?'

    Jonathan Bale listened with a mixture of interest and dismay as Christopher Redmayne told him about the events of the previous night. Eager to hear every detail, the constable was upset to see his friend in such a state. The lacerations on Christopher's face were vivid and a bruise discoloured his cheekbone. Through the open neck of his shirt, the bandaging on his shoulder was visible. Christopher's knuckles bore testimony to the ferocity of the fight. One hand was bruised while the other had lost some skin from the backs of the fingers. Jonathan felt guilty that he had not been there to protect him.

    'Next time you go out at night, Mr Redmayne, I will come with you.'

    Christopher grinned. 'To a gaming house?'

    'If need be,' said Jonathan.

    'I'll not be caught off guard again, Mr Bale.'

    'No, sir. I will be watching your back.'

    'It was my own fault,' recalled Christopher. 'My mind was on something else. I should have realised that someone was following me. The irony is that I had just acted as Henry's bodyguard. I deliver him safely to his house in Bedford Street then I'm the one who is attacked.'

    'He obviously put up a fight.'

    'Yes,' said Christopher modestly, 'but, luckily, he came off far worse.'

    'He may try again.'

    'Not for some time, Mr Bale. I managed to stab his arm.'

    'It must have been the same man who killed Gabriel Cheever.'

    Christopher felt his neck. 'He used the same method, I know that. He was a strong fellow. I can see how he overpowered Gabriel.' He saw Jonathan's grim expression. 'Do not look so gloomy. I am not destined for the grave just yet.'

    'I hope not, Mr Redmayne. Thank you for sending for me.'

    'Jacob insisted on going for you.' He glanced around. 'By the way, where is he?'

    'He said that he had somewhere else to go.'

    'Where? Jacob should have come back with you. Those were his orders.'

    'He is probably on his way now.'

    'It's so unlike him to go missing.'

    'Forget your servant,' said Jonathan. 'Tell me about your visit to Mr Wickens.'

    'He was reluctant to show me his anonymous letter at first. It's understandable, I suppose. No man wants his vices to be put on display like that, though I suspect that Peter Wickens had less to hide than Sir Marcus Kemp. In any case,' said Christopher, 'we persuaded him eventually and he allowed me a glimpse of the letter.'

    'Was it written by the person who sent your brother's demand?'

    'Yes, Mr Bale. The hand was identical to that which penned the second letter to Henry. A different correspondent wrote the original demand. Someone with a bolder and more looping style.'

    'So we are looking for two people.'

    'Three, at least,' corrected Christopher. 'You forget my midnight companion. He did not strike me as the kind of man who dashes off a neat letter. His task is to carry out the threats, not to frame them in the first place.'

    'How long do you think he was following you?'

    'From the time we left that gaming house, probably. Henry and I were too busy talking to notice him and he could hardly make his move while we were together. No,' he said running a finger round his sore neck, 'my guess is that he lurked outside the house when we called on Peter Wickens. Then he shadowed us all the way back and waited until I was on my own.'

    'But why attack you, Mr Redmayne? Your brother received the death threat.'

    'I'm the one investigating the murder. Being ambushed like that was not the most pleasant experience,' said Christopher, 'but there is one compensation.'

    'You survived.'

    'That was an additional bonus. No, Mr Bale, we should take it as a sign that we are making good progress. They know that we are after them and sense that we are closing in. That's why I was attacked,' he concluded. 'They are afraid.'

    Before Jonathan could reply, he heard the front door opening and the sound of footsteps in the hall. Jacob had returned. Christopher was about to rebuke his servant when someone else came into the room ahead of him. Susan Cheever made no attempt to hide the affection beneath her anxiety. Hurrying across to his chair, she looked down at Christopher with consternation.

    'Jacob tells me that you were attacked, Mr Redmayne,' she said.

    Astonished to see her, all that Christopher could manage was a nod. He tried to catch Jacob's eye but the servant slipped off into the kitchen without looking at him. Susan was taking a rapid inventory of his face and neck. She winced when she saw his raw knuckles.

    'Are you badly hurt?'

    'No,' he said, relishing her proximity. 'I'll live to fight another day. But do sit down, Miss Cheever. You know Mr Bale, of course.'

    Susan gave the constable a nod of recognition. When she came into the room, Jonathan had risen to his feet. As she sat down, he resumed his seat. Susan had not come to see him. Her attention was fixed solely on Christopher.

    'What happened?' she said. 'Jacob would not give me any details.'

    'I do not remember very much,' replied Christopher. 'It was over in a flash.'

    'I do not believe you. Tell me the truth.'

    He blinked at her directness. 'There is not much to tell.'

    'Yes, there is,' she insisted. 'You did not get those injuries in the space of a few seconds. I think that you are trying to fob me off again, Mr Redmayne. Have you so soon forgotten your promise to tell me everything?'

    'Mr Bale has heard it all before. It would bore him.'

    'Not at all,' said Jonathan. 'I'd be glad to listen again, sir. Some small details may emerge that you forgot the first time. I am used to taking statements and I always make witnesses go over the story at least twice. There is usually something new that comes out and it is often crucial.'

    Christopher turned back to Susan. Worried and attentive, she was also determined to hear the full truth. He could not hold things back from her again. Making light of the courage he had shown, he gave her a lucid account of the attack and assured her that his injuries looked far worse than they really were. Susan was not reassured.

    'We are to blame for this,' she said guiltily. 'If you had not been trying to help my family, you would have been perfectly safe.'

    'I'm acting on behalf of my brother as well, remember.'

    'Someone tried to kill you, Mr Redmayne. I feel responsible.'

    'Needlessly.'

    'You took the most appalling risks to track down the man who murdered Gabriel.'

    'He tracked me down, Miss Cheever.'

    'That's what alarms me.'

    Christopher did his best to calm her down and Jonathan repeated his pledge to act as a bodyguard in future. She was only partially mollified. Jacob came into the room and stood beside his master.

    'Shall I bring in some refreshments, sir?' he enquired.

    'What I need from you,' said Christopher, 'is an explanation.'

    The old man beamed. 'Do you have a complaint, sir?'

    'No, Jacob, but I want you to follow instructions in future.'

    'I felt that Miss Cheever ought to know what had transpired.'

    'Thank you,' she said. 'I'm very grateful to you, Jacob.'

    Christopher smiled. 'Well, yes,' he said on reflection. 'I suppose that I, too, am grateful. Perhaps you acted wisely, after all.'