‘I gathered that, sir,’ said the other. ‘When I drove Inspector Colbeck to the station, I sensed that something had happened. Later on, I took Sir Marcus to Shrub Hill and he was very short with me. That only happens when he’s upset.’
‘Now you know why.’
‘So there’s hope that the two of them are still alive?’
‘The inspector was convinced of it, Tolley.’
‘Does he have any idea where they can be?’
‘He seems to think that they’re somewhere in Oxfordshire,’ said the artist. ‘That’s where the exchange will take place tomorrow and that’s where the detectives will be conducting their search.’
Annoyed to leave the capital yet again, Victor Leeming was at least contented with their mode of transport. He held the reins of the trap they’d hired and controlled the horse with relative ease. It allowed him to explore his fantasy of being a cab driver, moving at an unhurried speed and listening to the rhythmical sound of hooves. He was shaken out of his daydream when one of the wheels went over a large stone and the whole trap tilted briefly before righting itself with a jolt.
‘Where are we?’ he asked, looking around.
‘We’re still a couple of miles from the area chosen,’ said
Colbeck, scrutinising the map across his thighs. ‘We need to locate this vale, Victor.’
‘How precise were the instructions?’
‘They were carefully imprecise so that we could not find the exact spot of the exchange beforehand. In the guise of Sir Marcus, I am to go to a bridge and await further orders. Captain Whiteside — if it is indeed he — will want to make certain that I have not brought an impetuous accomplice with me this time.’
‘Mr Tunnadine is a lunatic.’
‘That’s why he must know nothing of this second demand.’
‘Being kept in the dark will make him very angry.’
‘I don’t care about that,’ said Colbeck. ‘By rights, he should be under lock and key. The superintendent has taken up the matter with the commissioner who will, in turn, refer it to the higher reaches of the judiciary. That fawning Worcestershire magistrate Tallis told me about should be rapped hard over the knuckles.’
‘I think he should be in the same cell as Mr Tunnadine.’
‘I’m inclined to agree.’
‘The superintendent said that he was bowing and scraping to Sir Marcus.’
‘Sycophancy is never pleasant to behold, Victor. It’s one of the inevitable consequences of having a landed aristocracy. Incidentally,’ Colbeck went on, ‘I owe you an apology.’
‘Why is that, sir?’
‘I sent you to that artist’s studio when George Vaughan wasn’t there.’
‘Somebody else was.’
‘Oh?’
‘It was the young lady with an arm missing in the painting.’
Try as he might, Leeming had been unable to forget his confrontation with Dolly Wrenson. It had been too harrowing to put behind him. In the hope of getting it off his chest, he confided in Colbeck. The inspector had to hide his amusement.
‘You should have accepted it as a compliment, Victor.’
‘I’m not used to compliments from ladies — not that she’s really a lady, mind you.’
‘Something about you clearly prompted her interest.’
‘That’s what disturbs me, sir,’ said Leeming. ‘What sort of man did she think that I was? All that she seemed to be wearing was a dressing gown.’
‘The young lady obviously felt safe in the presence of a policeman.’
‘Well, I didn’t feel safe in her presence, I can tell you that.’
Colbeck grinned. ‘I can’t believe you were so bashful,’ he said. ‘Marriage to Estelle should have armoured you against any blandishments like that. You’ve been able to brush aside improper advances in the past without letting them trouble you.’
‘It was different with this young lady, sir. She was no common streetwalker. Dolly was beautiful and — God help me — I’d been forced to look at that …’
‘At that nude portrait of her — is that what you mean?’
‘Yes, it is. Besides,’ said Leeming, ‘I have a mirror in my house. I know I have an ugly face. What woman would choose me because of my appearance?’
‘Estelle did.’
‘I know and I’ve been grateful ever since, sir. But this young lady would never have looked at me twice if she hadn’t been eager to punish young Mr Vaughan. That was why she made improper suggestions to me. I was to be used as a weapon against him,’ said Leeming, flicking the reins to increase the speed of the horse. ‘It made me feel dreadful.’
‘You have my sympathy,’ said Colbeck, patting his knee. ‘If we need to contact young Mr Vaughan at his studio again, I’ll go in your stead.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Console yourself with this thought. Had his brother, Percy, been accosted by this young lady, he’d have been even more scandalised than you. Religion has so far sheltered him from the world of feminine wiles, whereas George revels in it.’
‘It’s a closed book to me,’ admitted Leeming, ‘and I want it to stay closed.’ They rode on for a few minutes before he spoke again. ‘How can two brothers be so different in every way? Percy Vaughan is a curate who, according to you, believes in clean living and self-denial, while George shares a bed with … with a woman like Dolly. You wouldn’t believe that they had the same parents.’
‘Percy is the more interesting of the two, in my opinion. He’s sombre and self-possessed with depths that nobody could plumb. George, on the other hand, is a true extrovert. He loves to cause outrage by his behaviour,’ said Colbeck, ‘but he’s only playing at being an artist, I fancy. I found him engaging but a trifle superficial. Percy is the thinker in the family. I don’t believe that his brother ever has a serious thought. George just does what appeals to him at any point in time.’
When he climbed the steps to the studio, George Vaughan was not at all sure what kind of reception he’d get. While Dolly was a voluptuous young lady, she was also very capricious. The threat she’d issued when he’d last seen her was worrying. He’d become so used to her companionship and her ready passion that he’d rather taken her for granted. The idea that he may have lost both was unnerving. He would never find a model as compliant as her or a lover as skilful and satisfying. Together, they could enhance his career; apart, he’d be working in a void without inspiration.
When he reached the door of the studio, he paused to listen. There was no sound from within. He was unsure whether to knock or simply to let himself in with his key. After much cogitation, he did both, tapping on the door then unlocking it. His heart sank. The room was empty and the bed unmade. When he looked around for a letter, he found none. Dolly appeared to have washed her hands of him and fled. He sat down on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. It was minutes before he heard the floorboard creak.
She was there, after all. Dolly was hiding behind the screen where she used to undress before posing for him. Leaping up, he ran across the room and moved the screen aside. He was overcome with contrition.
‘I thought I’d lost you, my darling.’
‘That issue is still in the balance,’ she warned.
‘You gave me such a fright, Dolly.’
‘It’s the least you deserve for running out on me like that.’
‘It was an emergency,’ he said. ‘I explained that to you.’
‘Deeds mean more than words, George Vaughan. I pleaded with you to stay and you still went rushing off to Oxford. If you hadn’t come back today, I was going to pack my things and leave. Artists are all the same,’ she complained. ‘They promise you the earth then drop you like a stone.’
‘That isn’t what happened.’
‘It’s what I felt happened and it hurt. It was the same with Sebastian when I was his model. He filled my ears with wonderful promises but never delivered them. That’s why I ran away to you in the end. I’ve done with artists,’ she announced, stamping a petulant foot. ‘You’re the third who’s let me down.’
‘I’ll make amends,’ he vowed. ‘I love you, Dolly. I can’t work without you.’