Ironically, the locomotive that took them to Oxford was Will Shakspere. When they boarded the train at Shrub Hill, Edward Tallis and Sir Marcus Burnhope didn’t realise that it was the same engine that had taken the two fugitives on the first stage of their flight. In the comfort of their first-class compartment, both men complained when wisps of acrid smoke seeped in as they went through the Mickleton Tunnel. It never occurred to them that the driver and the fireman would be enshrouded in the billowing smoke because they had no protection whatsoever from it or from the elements. Concern for his fellow men was not something that Sir Marcus ever felt, especially when he was helping to pilot punitive legislation through the House of Commons.
‘What if they attempt some subterfuge?’ he asked.
‘I think it unlikely, Sir Marcus. The kidnappers will realise that they can’t get away with deception again.’
‘These loathsome wretches are as slippery as eels.’
‘Eels can be caught with the right net,’ said Tallis, complacently. ‘The name of that net is Inspector Colbeck.’
‘I hope that he’ll be at Oxford station to greet us.’
‘He’ll not only be there, he’ll have hired transport to take us to the location of the exchange. You may expect a protest from him.’
‘Why?’
‘Colbeck won’t be at all happy that you are planning to hand over the money yourself.’
‘Imogen is my daughter!’ bellowed Sir Marcus.
‘It’s your personal safety that we have to consider.’
‘I don’t give a fig for that, man. In order to get her back, I’ll face any kind of danger. Well,’ he went on, ‘wouldn’t you do the same if it was a daughter of yours?’
‘I’m not married, Sir Marcus.’
‘You should be. It would make you less stuffy.’
Tallis was dumbfounded. Nobody had ever dared to say such a thing to him. He felt insulted, particularly as the criticism came for a man whose commitments as a senior politician left him with almost no time to forge a bond with his only child. It took the superintendent fifteen minutes before he was able to speak again.
‘Why not let Colbeck accompany you at the exchange, Sir Marcus?’
‘The ransom demand stipulated that I should be there alone.’
‘You could feign weakness and in need of someone to support you.’
‘I’m not that decrepit yet, Tallis.’
‘It was only an idea.’
‘Please refrain from having another one.’
‘I’ll do as you wish, Sir Marcus.’
Tallis retreated into silence. Travelling with a member of the aristocracy meant a reversal of roles for him. Instead of being in charge and above contradiction, he was forced to do as he was told. It made him think of his days as a schoolboy when he was under the thumb of a despotic headmaster who liked to enforce his edicts with the swish of a cane. Sir Marcus had not actually struck him but Tallis felt that the remark about his bachelorhood was akin to the punishment he’d received at school. Both had left a lasting sting and a burning resentment.
The train steamed noisily into Oxford station and Tallis was pleased to see his detectives waiting on the platform. He now had allies. Sir Marcus stepped onto the platform first with the superintendent just behind him. Colbeck and Leeming came across to greet them.
‘Is everything ready?’ asked Sir Marcus.
‘Yes,’ replied Colbeck. ‘The two of you will travel in the trap while the sergeant and I follow on horseback.’
Leeming was dubious. ‘Is that really such a good idea, sir? I still think we should have hired a second trap.’
‘Use your head, man,’ said Tallis, putting steel into his voice now that he had someone of inferior rank to bully. ‘How can you go in pursuit of these villains in a trap when they may be riding swift horses? Your proposal is inane.’
‘Not to me, it isn’t,’ said Leeming under his breath.
‘There’s been a change of plan, Inspector,’ Tallis went on, hoping to enlist Colbeck’s aid. ‘Sir Marcus has suggested that he should hand over the money.’
‘It’s not a suggestion,’ said Sir Marcus, ‘it’s a decision.’
‘Then it’s one that I applaud,’ said Colbeck.
Tallis was deeply hurt. ‘I expected you to support me.’
‘I fear that I’m not able to do that, sir.’
‘Why ever not? You were the one who insisted on handling the exchange on the first occasion and you were right to do so.’
‘This time is very different,’ explained Colbeck. ‘When I disguised myself as Sir Marcus, I was too far away from the kidnapper to be identified properly. As it happened, neither of the hostages was present. With luck, they will be there today. What will happen if Sir Marcus’s daughter sees me posing as her father? She and her maid are bound to be startled and give me away. They will both suffer as a result. Is that what you wish to achieve? No,’ he added, ‘only Sir Marcus will suffice today, Superintendent. I will remain hiding in the trees with you and the sergeant.’
Tallis felt injured. Sir Marcus applied plenty of salt to the wounds.
‘There you are,’ he said, breezily. ‘Listen to the inspector. He thinks more clearly than you, acts more sensibly and puts the fate of my daughter first. You should learn from Colbeck. He could teach you a lot.’
Sergeant Cullen didn’t actually carry out his threat to sleep in the same room as them but he left the door open between the adjoining rooms so that he could hear everything they said. Imogen and her maid passed a sleepless night. They felt horribly exposed and maltreated. Breakfast was served early in their room and Cullen stood over them while they ate it. He then put the tray outside the room for a servant to collect it. When Captain Whiteside came into the room, he was in a buoyant mood.
‘Right,’ he said, pointing to Rhoda, ‘you’re coming with us.’
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
‘We have a rendezvous with Sir Marcus Burnhope.’
Imogen stood up. ‘Why can’t I come?’
‘Because I don’t need you,’ he replied. ‘Rhoda will be enough to convince him that I’m in earnest.’
‘But I want to see my father.’
‘You’ve changed your tune, haven’t you?’ jeered Cullen.
‘The reason you ended up here is that you couldn’t wait to run away from him. One minute you hate your father; the next, you’re dying to go back to him.’
‘Imogen is going nowhere,’ said Whiteside. He glanced at Cullen. ‘You still haven’t recognised Manus, have you?’
‘It’s because they never really look at me, Terence. They’ve only had eyes for their gallant saviour, Captain Whiteside, who came to their rescue when they needed him.’ Leering at the women, he lowered his voice to emit a loud growl. ‘Arrrrrrgh!’
Realisation dawning, Imogen and Rhoda drew back in alarm.
‘It’s him,’ gibbered Rhoda. ‘It’s that terrible man who leapt out at us in Christ Church Meadow. He wasn’t a vagabond at all. He was hiding there on purpose.’
‘Yes,’ confirmed Whiteside, ‘and he’d also grown a beard and blacked his face for the purpose. Manus is a good actor. He even frightened me.’
While the men shared a guffaw, Imogen was horrified at how easily she and Rhoda had been tricked by the ruse. Whiteside had first won her gratitude, then proceeded to win her love and trust. The truth was humiliating. It made her feel both reckless and embarrassingly immature.
‘It’s time to go,’ said Whiteside.
‘I demand that you take me,’ declared Imogen, leaping to her feet.
He sniggered. ‘You’re not exactly in a position to make demands, are you?’
‘I need to see my father.’
‘Rhoda can give him your regards.’
‘If you leave me here alone,’ she warned, ‘I’ll bang on that door and scream aloud until somebody lets me out.’
‘Unfortunately, you won’t be in a position to do so.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Manus,’ he ordered. ‘Fetch the rope.’
As the Irishman went off into the next room, Rhoda challenged the captain.