Shadow of the Hangman(107)

‘It was Donal Kearney, a chimney sweep.’

Since he was seated opposite them, Sidmouth could see their startled reaction. Kearney had obviously been the informer who’d helped them. As a result, his position in the tenement had become hazardous. The chimney sweep, Sidmouth reasoned, had chosen to die before he was killed by his vengeful neighbours.

‘It’s no use having spies,’ he warned the Runners, ‘unless you take adequate steps to protect them.’





Even though he was expecting the letter to come, David Beyton was still jolted when it actually arrived. He had to wait until all his colleagues had left the building before he was able to read it. The instructions were terse and peremptory. He was reminded that he had to go to the appointed place alone or there would be dire consequences, both for him and for Anne Horner. Thrusting the letter into his pocket, Beyton left the Home Office guiltily and made his way to Peter Skillen’s house. He was invited in and taken to the drawing room. Shown the instructions, Peter noted that they were in the same handwriting as the earlier missives and felt once again that it was the work of a woman who was presumably Jane Holdstock. Evidently, she had no compunction about issuing a death threat. Without saying a word, Peter left the room and was away for several minutes. When he returned, he unfurled a map of London and placed it on the table. Both men crouched over it.

‘You are to walk around Grosvenor Square,’ said Peter, indicating the place on the map. ‘You’ll be watched every inch of the way. If anyone else appears to be with you – or lurking nearby – they will do exactly what they threaten.’

‘It will be the end of my career!’ groaned Beyton before correcting himself quickly. ‘Mrs Horner’s predicament is far worse than mine, of course, and that should never be forgotten.’

‘Do exactly what you’re told, sir.’

‘Where will you be, Mr Skillen?’

‘It’s best if you don’t know.’

‘Why not?’

‘You won’t be tempted to look in my direction.’

‘That makes sense.’

‘Obey your orders, sir.’

Beyton was anxious. ‘But you will be nearby, won’t you?’

‘I won’t abandon you.’

‘And you still remain optimistic?’

‘Having seen the location they’ve chosen, I’m more than optimistic,’ said Peter with conviction. ‘It’s a part of London that I know extremely well. I’ll be at hand, I assure you and I’ll have assistance.’

‘From whom, may I ask?’

The question went unanswered.



Vincent Diamond and Jane Holstock rode along Park Lane in a trap and took note of the preparations being made in Hyde Park. Fences were being put up, platforms were being erected and hundreds of chairs were being unloaded from wagons. Tents and canopies were going up everywhere. Men were working into the evening to get everything ready for the forthcoming celebrations to mark the victory against Napoleon at the Battle of Waterloo.

‘We’ll take a stroll through the park tomorrow to get a closer look,’ said Diamond. ‘Everything seems well advanced.’

‘The Prince Regent will be pleased.’

‘He enjoys showing off and where better to flaunt than on an occasion like this when the eyes of London will be upon him?’

‘The Duke of Wellington will have pride of place, however.’

‘He’ll insist upon it, Jane. He, after all, is the conquering hero. That’s not what I’d call him, mark you,’ he said, darkly, ‘but it is how he’s perceived in England and, as we both know, perception is everything.’

‘I couldn’t agree more.’

He flicked the reins to draw a faster pace from the horse then turned to her.

‘What do you think Beyton will do?’ he asked.

‘I think we’ve brought him to heel this time, Vincent. We’ll get the money.’

‘We’ll ruin him if we don’t. Why on earth did he set his sights on someone like Mrs Horner?’ he asked in tones of disbelief. ‘It’s such a grotesque dalliance. Can you imagine the two of them together?’

‘I can’t imagine Beyton with any woman. He’s so unappealing.’

‘There’s a cruder word for it.’

‘I’d like to be there when they meet again,’ she said with relish. ‘If I’d had to undergo the privations that she’s suffering, I’d have a few choice words to say to Mr Beyton, even if it meant that I’d lose my job.’

‘That’s not an issue, is it?’

‘I think that it might be.’