The Repentant Rake

    'This is an unlooked for pleasure, Mr Redmayne,' she said.

    'That remains to be seen, Miss Hemmings.'

    'What happened to your face?'

    'Do you really need to ask that?'

    'You look as if you've been in a brawl.'

    'I survived.'

    'I'm delighted to hear that. What exactly happened?'

    'Forget about my injuries,' he said, producing a letter from his pocket and showing it to her. 'I believe that you wrote this. It was sent to Miss Susan Cheever.'

    'Yes,' she replied warily. 'She invited me to meet her.'

    'No, Miss Hemmings. I dictated that letter to her. Miss Cheever only agreed to write it on the understanding that she would never have to come face to face with you.'

    Celia was angered. 'You dictated the letter, Mr Redmayne?'

    'It was the only way to get a sample of your handwriting,' he explained, taking out another missive. 'I wanted to compare it with the hand on this death threat to my brother. They show a remarkable similarity.'

    'A mere coincidence.'

    'I think we shall find many more coincidences before we have finished. Like the fact that you once used a strange phrase about Gabriel Cheever to me. You said that his rivals sought to defeat him at the card table, not in a dark alley.' He gave her a smile. 'We found that alley today just off Warwick Lane. How did you know that Gabriel was killed in a place like that?'

    'It was just a wild guess.'

    'Tell that to the judge.'

    'You have no evidence on which to charge me,' she said defiantly.

    'We have these two letters and the others you wrote to your victims,' he argued. 'We have the fact that your former chambermaid stole something very compromising from Lady Ulvercombe. And we now know that you went to Gabriel's funeral to gloat.'

    'I loved him.'

    'Yes, Miss Hemmings. But that love turned sour when he left you.'

    'That's not how it happened.'

    'I've heard your version,' he reminded her. 'How you bore him no malice when he dropped you like a stone and vanished from sight. That was a blatant lie. In fact, you were furious. I've seen the limits to which that fury pushed you.'

    'Have a care, Mr Redmayne,' she warned. 'You're in dangerous waters.'

    'They are far less dangerous since my good friend, Mr Bale, took your man-of-war out of the fleet. Do not look for him to come to your aid. Gabriel's killer is locked up safely in prison.'

    She leaped to her feet. 'That's impossible!'

    'He was taken outside a printer's shop in Fleet Lane. Mr Henshaw kindly pointed him out when he came there earlier today.' A hunted look came in her eyes. 'Who else was in on the conspiracy, Miss Hemmings? Who wrote the first letter to my brother, and the one to Arthur Lunn?'

    'Nobody.'

    'There must have been.'

    'No, Mr Redmayne.'

    'I've seen that foul-mouthed rogue you employed to do your killing,' he said. 'I even fought him in the dark. You and he are scarcely natural bedfellows. There has to be someone else with the wit to set this whole scheme up. Admit it.'

    'I admit nothing.'

    'That former chambermaid of yours may be more willing to speak up.'

    'Leave Hetty out of this.'

    'But she played such a crucial part. Oh, and by the way,' he remembered 'could I please have my brother's letter back? It has caused more than enough anguish to Henry.'

    'Good!'

    'Why did you pick on him? Henry has his vices but he's essentially harmless.'

    'Your brother is an idiot.'

    'No,' said Christopher defensively. 'He's a flawed man who has occasional moments of idiocy. Just like the rest of us. That includes you, Miss Hemmings. After all, you were idiotic enough to imagine that you could get away with this. Gabriel Cheever was killed to assuage your hatred of him. It's only fitting that it was his sister who helped to expose you.' He put the letters back in his pocket. 'You overreached yourself. You wrote one letter too many.'

    'What do you want?' she said icily.

    'The name of your accomplice or accomplices.'

    'There were none.'

    'Why prevaricate? You've been caught in your own trap.'

    Thinking hard, she moved in closer. 'Did you come on your own, Mr Redmayne?'

    'I did not imagine that I would need an army.'

    'Who else knows what you've just told me?'

    'That's irrelevant. I know, Miss Hemmings.'

    'How much would it cost to make you forget it for a while?'

    'Are you trying to bribe me?' he said insulted at the very notion.

    'All you have to do is look the other way.'

    'No!'

    'Not even for a hundred guineas?'

    'A thousand guineas would not afflict me with temporary blindness,' he asserted. 'Fetch my brother's unfortunate letter to a certain lady, then I'll take you to be charged.'

    Celia sagged and nodded in defeat. 'Very well. Let me call my servant,' she said. 'He knows where I keep everything.' She opened the door. 'David! Come here, please.'

    The servant who had let Christopher into the house now reappeared. He was a stolid man in his thirties with dark eyes set into a craggy face. His deferential manner suggested someone who was devoted to his mistress.

    'Yes, Miss Hemmings?' he enquired.

    Her tone changed. 'Mr Redmayne's behaviour is highly offensive to me,' she said harshly. 'Please show him off the premises.'

    'At once.' He turned to Christopher. 'This way, sir.'

    'Miss Hemmings and I are leaving together,' said Christopher.

    'I think not, sir.'

    The servant took a firm grip on his arm to march him out. Explanations were pointless. He would not listen to anything Christopher said. His job was simply to obey orders. Wrenching his arm free, Christopher swung round and saw that Celia had already quit the room by means of another door. When he tried to open it, he found that it was locked. He also had the problem of a strong man grabbing his shoulders from behind. Violent action was required. He had no quarrel with the servant but David was now trying to force him across the room. Christopher resisted, trod hard on the man's toe then pushed him over when he hopped in agony on one foot. Before the servant could recover, Christopher caught him on the jaw with a solid punch and dazed him sufficiently to make good his escape. Dashing into the hall, he went out towards the rear of the house until he found a way into the garden. He ran down the path and let himself out through the door in the garden wall.

    Jonathan Bale was waiting for him with a squirming Celia Hemmings in his arms.

    Christopher grinned. 'I forgot to mention that Mr Bale was with me,' he said.

    Henry Redmayne was a self-appointed angel of mercy. Having been given the wondrous news, he wanted to share it with his fellow victims so that they, too, could celebrate their escape from the horror of blackmail. The home of Arthur Lunn was his first port of call and his friend embraced him warmly when he heard the good tidings. Sir Marcus Kemp was even more relieved, bursting into tears and hugging Henry so tightly that he feared for the safety of his coat buttons. When he rode off to visit Peter Wickens, there was still a damp patch on his shoulder from the unmanly display of weeping. Two victims had been delighted with his news. Henry expected a similar reception from Peter Wickens. Shown in to see his friend, he struck a pose and beamed inanely.