‘He was stabbed to death right in front of me,’ said Rhoda, still shaking.
‘Who was he?’
‘He was hired by Mr Tunnadine, apparently.’
Hopes flickered. ‘You mean that he was a detective?’
‘Yes, he came searching for us.’
‘Then others may also be hunting for us, Rhoda.’
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Whiteside barked an order.
‘Open that door for us and stand aside!’
Leeming was the first to see them. Having left by the rear exit, they came round the side of the building where he and Madeleine were standing. Cullen led the way, bent double by the weight of the trunk on his shoulder. Whiteside was next with the lighter luggage while Imogen and Rhoda were close behind him. Since they were carrying nothing, it would have been easy for the two women to dash away but the look of terror in their eyes explained why they didn’t dare to do so. When he reached the front of the hotel, Cullen lowered the trunk to the ground and hailed a cab. As it rolled into position, Leeming made his move, hiding behind the cab as he crept towards them. It was Cullen who failed to watch his back this time. Turning to pick up the trunk, he was suddenly tackled by Leeming and brought to the ground with a thud. Before he could grab his gun or his knife, Cullen was pounded with heavy punches then lifted by the scruff of the neck and hurled against the wall of the hotel with such force that he was dazed. Leeming already had his handcuffs out.
Whiteside had been taken by surprise but reacted quickly. He pulled out his pistol and aimed it at the sergeant, only to have his arm knocked sharply upwards by Colbeck who’d come hurtling around the corner. There was a deafening report as the gun went off but the bullet went harmlessly in the air. Madeleine didn’t wish to be left out of the action. During the commotion, she rushed forward and grabbed Imogen by the wrist, pulling her away and beckoning for Rhoda to follow. The two women were only too glad to get away from the violent struggle. They cowered in a doorway on the other side of the road and watched the drama unfold.
Leeming had handcuffed Cullen and disarmed him, earning a mouthful of abuse for his trouble. Blood dripping down his face, the Irishman was kicking out wildly. Dodging his foot, Leeming caught hold of it and pulled hard so that Cullen pitched forward onto the pavement, banging his head yet again. Whiteside, however, was more difficult to overpower. Though his gun had been ripped away from him, he had teak-hard fists. He grappled with Colbeck, trying everything he could to shake him off, punching, stamping, lifting, using his knees and spitting into the inspector’s face. Colbeck clung on until he was bitten hard on the neck. The pain made him release his hold and Whiteside ran off, snatching up a valise and using it to knock Leeming backwards with a vicious swing when the latter tried to intercept him. The kidnapper hared across the road and ran towards the cab rank further down the street.
Colbeck was after him like a beagle sighting a fox. The bite on the neck had drawn blood that was staining his cravat. It infuriated him. Sprinting across the road, he lengthened his stride and began to make ground on his adversary. When he realised that he was going to be caught, Whiteside turned to face him. He was panting heavily and sensed that he’d met his match. Trying a different tactic, he patted the valise.
‘I’ve got thousands of pounds in here, my friend,’ he said, opening it and taking out a handful of banknotes. ‘Let me go and you get a decent share of it.’
‘That money belongs to Sir Marcus Burnhope and Clive Tunnadine. I’m here to retrieve it and to rescue the hostages.’
‘What kind of man turns down an offer like that?’
‘One who’s come to arrest you for all manner of crimes,’ said Colbeck, stoutly. ‘The army would love to have you but we have first claim on you now.’
When he moved forward, Colbeck had to duck beneath the flailing valise. Whiteside made another wild attempt to get to the cab rank but he soon had some additional baggage to hamper him. Colbeck had jumped on his back and got an arm around his neck, applying so much pressure that the man could hardly breathe. The valise was heavy but Whiteside was loath to part with the huge ransom he’d collected from two sources. He staggered on a few more yards before his legs buckled. Colbeck gave him no chance to bite this time. As Whiteside pitched forward onto the ground, Colbeck grabbed his hair and banged his head repeatedly on the pavement. All the strength drained out of him and his grip was eventually so weak that he had to let go of the fortune he’d amassed.
Madeleine had watched it all from the other side of the road with the two hostages. Imogen was both elated and worried, delighted to be free at last, yet fearing that the architect of their misery would get away. Though the violence turned her stomach, she had nothing but praise for the determined way in which Whiteside had been caught, subdued and handcuffed.
‘That was wonderful,’ she said. ‘Who is that man?’
‘It’s my husband,’ replied Madeleine, proudly. ‘He’s Inspector Colbeck of Scotland Yard. We’ve come to take you home.’
When the two prisoners had been installed in separate cells in Dublin police station, Colbeck was able to visit a doctor to have his wound examined. He was less worried about his neck than he was about the damage to one of his favourite cravats. After medical treatment, he returned to the Belvedere hotel where he informed the manager that there was a corpse in one of his rooms on the top floor. He remained until an undertaker was summoned and the body of Alban Kee was taken away, then he joined the others. Since it was necessary to stay the night in Dublin, he’d suggested another hotel because the Belvedere held too many grisly memories for the hostages.
Throwing her arms around him, Madeleine gave him a warm welcome.
‘How are you feeling now, Robert?’
‘I’ve collected a few bruises,’ he said, ‘but they’ll soon fade. What about the ladies? Have they settled in?’
‘Yes, they have. After being kept apart by the kidnappers, they chose to share a room. They’ve been able to wash and change out of the clothing they’ve worn for days. Rhoda said it was the first time she felt really clean.’
‘What about all that money?’
‘Victor had it put in the hotel safe,’ she said. ‘He counted it out so that he could get a receipt for the amount and said there was enough in that valise to buy this hotel and several others. It was very brave of him to take on Cullen.’
‘He had the sense to know that I’d be able to come to his aid very soon. I’m afraid that Alban Kee didn’t have the advantage of a partner. He sought to arrest both men on his own and it was a fatal decision.’
‘At least he won’t be able to tell the superintendent about me.’
‘I’d much rather have had Kee alive and keeping to his promise of saying nothing. There’ll be a wife and family back in London who’ll have to cope with some tragic news.’ He brightened. ‘You’ve really come into your own now that the hostages are liberated. They warmed to you immediately,’ he said with a smile, ‘and I remember doing exactly the same when we first met. However, I’ll postpone my thanks until a more fitting time. We must concentrate on the two ladies now. They need care and compassion.’
The evening began slowly. Rhoda Wills was embarrassed to be dining at the same table as the others and Imogen Burnhope was still adjusting to the notion that the nightmare was finally over. As the meal progressed, however, they both relaxed. It was Leeming who chose the moment to shift the conversation to their kidnap.
‘What exactly happened?’ he asked.
‘We’re too ashamed to tell you,’ said Imogen. ‘It was our own fault, really.’
‘The inspector thought that Captain Whiteside had persuaded you to leave the train in disguise at Oxford station.’