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Shadow of the Hangman(108)

By:Edward Marston

‘After all that’s happened,’ he said, ‘she won’t even consider going back to the Home Office, surely.’

‘Oh, I think that she will.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Well, a vacancy is about to occur, isn’t it?’

He went off into a peal of laughter and put an arm around her.





Ruth Levitt worked at twice her normal speed; cleaning each of the rooms in the order she’d set herself. The night watchman let himself into the Home Office at regular intervals to check that all was well before continuing his round of the other buildings in the vicinity. It meant that she knew exactly how much time she had at her disposal. When she’d dusted the last desk and emptied the last wastepaper basket, she hurried downstairs and went into the Home Secretary’s office. Placing the candelabrum on the desk, she took out a skeleton key and inserted it into the drawer. When it failed to engage with the lock, she jiggled it about as instructed and heard a satisfying click. The drawer now opened without resistance.

She knew exactly what she was looking for and did so as swiftly as she was able, sifting through a pile of documents until she came to one that had especial interest. Ruth had come prepared. Taking some paper from her bag, she put it on the desk then picked up the quill. She proceeded to copy something out in a neat hand. When that task was done, another remained and it required a second search through the documents. She soon found what she was after. There was far too much for her to copy out this time so she made a series of notes instead, making sure that she included the pertinent details. She worked swiftly and with a sense of mounting excitement. Once her notes were finished, she put all the documents back in their original order and slipped them into the drawer before shutting it. The skeleton key worked instantly this time. She took the candelabrum into the hall, extinguished all but one candle then waited for the night watchman to arrive. Minutes later, he let himself in.

‘Have you finished, Mrs Levitt?’ he asked.

‘Yes, thank you. Mr Doggett.’

‘No problems to report?’

‘There are none at all.’

‘Then I bid you good night.’

‘Good night, Mr Doggett.’

He stood aside so that she could walk past him and out through the open door.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he called after her.

But she made no reply and, as she was swallowed up by the darkness, he could not see that she was smiling quietly to herself.





CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE




Anne Horner had gone through a whole range of emotions. The naked fear she’d felt during the abduction had changed to anger, moved on to indignation, settled briefly into a mood of defiance then declined slowly into a sense of hopelessness. She no longer even thought of release, still less of escape or even survival. There was simply no future to contemplate outside the narrow confines of the cellar. It was as if her mind had shrunk to the same dimensions as her little world. Except for the variation in the times of her meals, each day was the same. She ate, she moved about awkwardly, she sat in a state of utter boredom and she slept. She had even come to accept the basic sanitary arrangements as being the norm. Anne lacked the strength to protest and the pride to feel humiliation at her treatment.

It was Jane Holdstock who brought the meal that morning, setting down the tray in front of the prisoner. Her buoyancy came in sharp relief to the despair of the older woman.

‘Cheer up, Anne,’ she said. ‘Today might be a special one for you.’

‘Don’t taunt me.’

‘I am perfectly serious. If your friend behaves himself, you might see the last of this place.’

‘You said that before.’

‘He tried to deceive us,’ explained Jane, ‘and that was very silly. We’ve given him a second chance that is also his last chance.’ Anne gave no reaction. ‘There’s something that intrigues us. What attracted you to a man like that?’

‘Leave me alone.’

‘Or were you given no choice in the matter?’

Anne turned her head away. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘In effect, he put you in here and only he can get you out.’

‘Why do you have to hurt me so much?’ pleaded Anne. ‘Isn’t it enough to chain me up and keep me down here?’

‘It’s only for a certain length of time.’

‘You’re taunting me again.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘How would you like to be locked up?’ She rattled the chain. ‘How would you like to have this around your leg?’

Jane was annoyed. ‘I’m trying to help you,’ she said, irritably, ‘but you just don’t want to be helped, do you?’ She went back to the door. ‘Enjoy the meal. It may be your last in here.’