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Shadow of the Hangman(111)

By:Edward Marston


‘We don’t know,’ admitted Huckvale.

‘They must have turned left off this street,’ said Charlotte.

‘Then we’re in luck,’ said Paul.

‘Why?’

‘I know it. It’s a cul-de-sac.’ He dismounted. ‘Let’s go on foot. Jem can look after the horses. If we go galloping up the street, we’ll give the game away.’





The first thing that Vincent Diamond did as he entered the house was to hold up the bag like a trophy. Jane Holdstock threw her arms around him and kissed him. Then the money was emptied onto the table and they gloated, each picking up a handful of banknotes and letting them cascade down again.

‘This will make our work much easier,’ said Diamond. ‘With this amount of money at our disposal, we can bribe almost anyone.’

‘Beyton obviously did as we instructed.’

‘There was no sign of anyone else in Grosvenor Square. When we’ve moved to the other house, we’ll send him word of where the prisoner is being held then he can come and release her.’

She laughed. ‘That will be a touching reunion  . I’ll be sorry to miss it.’

‘What I’ll miss is seeing Beyton’s face when he realises that his indiscretions led to far more than a mere demand for money. In fact …’

He broke off. Standing beside the front window, he’d seen movement on the opposite side of the street. When he peered through the glass, he tensed.

‘We’ve got to go,’ he said, decisively.

‘Why?’

‘I was followed, after all. The man out there is the one we saw with Beyton in Hyde Park. That fool has double-crossed us. Quick – out through the back door.’

‘But we can’t just leave everything, Vincent.’

‘Run, woman!’

Gathering up handfuls of money, he stuffed them into the bag then led the way to the back of the house. A few seconds later, Peter Skillen crossed the street and looked in through the front window.





Paul Skillen, meanwhile, had worked his way round to the gate at the rear of the garden. When he tried to open it, he found that it was locked. The next moment, he heard hurried footsteps coming down the garden and stood back in readiness. The door was unbolted then opened and two figures appeared. Paul accosted them and told them that they were under arrest. The man was startled; unable to believe that the person he’d just seen in the street was now in the lane at the rear of the house. It seemed impossible. He recovered quickly. When he tried to push past, Paul grappled with him, knocking the bag from his arms and sending banknotes all over the ground. The fight was short-lived because Jane was armed. Taking a pistol from inside her coat, she knocked off Paul’s hat then used the butt of the weapon to strike the back of his skull. The blow was enough to daze him. Diamond threw him against the garden wall and Paul’s head struck the hard stone, knocking him unconscious at once.

Jane bent down to gather up the money but Diamond pulled her away.

‘Forget that,’ he snarled. ‘Just run!’



He knew that it was the right house because the gig he’d seen earlier was standing outside. After knocking on the door for the best part of a minute, Peter decided on a different mode of entry. Taking out his pistol, he smashed the window then knocked the remaining shards out of the way before climbing gingerly into the house. After a quick search of the rooms on the ground floor, he went upstairs with the pistol cocked but the place was empty. Through a window in the back bedroom, he saw his brother stagger in through the garden gate with one hand to his head. Peter hared down the steps and out into the garden, rushing across to support him.

‘What happened, Paul?’

‘I was struggling with the man when the woman – Mrs Holdstock, I suppose it must have been – hit me from behind with something. I went out like a snuffed candle. By the time I’d regained consciousness, they’d disappeared.’ He managed a weak grin. ‘But I managed to save the money,’ he continued. ‘It’s scattered all over the place.’ He glanced at the house. ‘How did you get in, Peter?’

‘I had to smash the window.’

‘What did you find?’

‘I haven’t had time to do a proper search. But you need a wet cloth on that bruise of yours,’ he said, looking at the back of his brother’s head. ‘There’s no blood but the lump is already coming up.’

‘I know. I can feel it. To be honest …’

‘Be quiet!’ said Peter, cutting him short. ‘And listen.’

‘What am I listening for?’

‘I thought I heard a voice.’