‘Of course,’ said Ackford with a chuckle, ‘Peter and Paul saw rather more of him than I did. He was dressed in his finery when he came here. Stripped of that, I daresay he’d find it more difficult to cozen anybody.’
‘This is an excellent description,’ she said as she read it through. ‘Had it been to hand when he first appeared, you’d have known him immediately.’
‘He was too sure of himself, Charlotte. That’s what alerted me.’
‘Medlow is in our record book now – right after Ned Greet.’
‘You may have to cross him out altogether very soon. Whether it’s to the scaffold or to Australia, Ned will be going where he can’t trouble any of us again.’
It had been Charlotte’s idea to compile the record book. A gallery of ruffians, thieves, forgers, fraudsters, fences, cracksmen, killers, cardsharps and those who ran disorderly houses had been created over the years by her elegant calligraphy. In cases where she’d actually seen an individual, she’d even added a little sketch of the person. Inevitably, men occupied the bulk of the book but there were some women who qualified for inclusion as well.
‘That collection of yours is a godsend,’ observed Ackford. ‘Someone walked in here last week and I knew I’d seen him before. Yet somehow I just couldn’t put a name to a face. So I resorted to that priceless book of yours and there he was in all his glory – Will Bickerton.’
‘Peter and Paul were chasing him a year ago.’
‘They’ll have to keep on chasing, Charlotte. When Bickerton realised I was suspicious, he vanished quicker than a rat down a drain.’
‘Why did he come here?’
‘He wanted someone to teach him how to shoot straight. That can often mean that someone is about to fight in an illegal duel but not in Bickerton’s case. He’d never have the courage to take part in a fair contest. A sly weasel of a man like him would prefer to shoot someone in the back.’
‘I’ll tell Paul that Bickerton is back in London. He has an old score to settle with him. He’ll have to work alone, however. Peter will be hunting for that missing woman from the Home Office.’
‘That’s a curious business, isn’t it?’
‘I’ll be interested to find out what happened to her.’
Before he could speak, Ackford heard the tinkle of the front door bell. He excused himself and went off to see who had rung it. When he opened the door, he was surprised to see a handsome young woman standing there alone. Apart from female servants, the only people who came to the gallery were men so there was a novelty in her request.
‘Is it true that you give instruction in archery?’ she asked.
Peter Skillen had expected to wait but, when he called at the Home Office, he was shown straight into Sidmouth’s office. The latter had clearly been awaiting some news about the investigation. Peter explained that he’d questioned both Esther Ricks and Joan Claydon but had learnt nothing that could point to the whereabouts of the missing servant. What he was careful not to divulge was the fact that Anne Horner had a substantial amount of money hidden beneath her bed. Since there might be a perfectly innocent reason why she’d acquired so much cash, he didn’t wish to plant a seed of doubt in Sidmouth’s mind about the woman. Neither did he want the Home Secretary asking the question that Peter had already asked himself. If the necessary woman had such ample funds, why did she feel the need to continue the laborious and demeaning work of cleaning offices?
‘You may think it strange that we are so concerned about her,’ said Sidmouth. ‘Here we are, occupying a position that entitles us to answer petitions and addresses to the Prince Regent, and allows us to advise him on the exercise of royal prerogative, yet we are excessively worried about a minor employee.’
‘I think that it shows genuine compassion on your part, my lord.’
‘I’m impelled by a sense of duty towards her.’
‘From what I’ve learnt about the woman,’ said Peter, ‘she seems quite admirable. Though she has suffered a number of blows in her life, Mrs Horner has been undaunted. She has fashioned a life for herself that makes few, if any, demands on others. Her landlady told me how kind, helpful and unselfish her lodger is.’
‘The same qualities have been noted here, Mr Skillen. Not that I’ve seen very much of her,’ Sidmouth went on, ‘because our paths almost never cross. We toil by day while she cleans up the mess here by night. There have, however, been occasions when I and my permanent secretary have worked late into the evening and left the premises as Horner was just arriving.’