Shadow of the Hangman(44)

‘My wife will be very upset,’ confided Ruddock. ‘Agnes was so proud of me when I became a member of the foot patrol. What will she think when I tell her that I was outwitted so easily and turned into a laughing stock?’

‘Even you are not that foolish.’

‘I don’t follow.’

‘Why tell her about your failure when you have a chance to boast of your success?’ Ruddock was bewildered. ‘Granted, you ended up in the river but it was not because some unseen hands pushed you in. You showed great bravery in wrestling with a pickpocket on the bank and the pair of you tumbled into the water.’

‘Did we?’

‘Use your imagination, lad. Turn a bad story into one that shows you in a good light. You never know,’ said Yeomans with a chuckle. ‘When she hears what a hero she married, your wife might help you off with those wet clothes.’

Hale returned with a tankard, which he handed to Ruddock. All three of them took a long swig of ale. An unpleasant experience might yet be turned into something that won praise. Ruddock smiled at the thought. Having been critical of her husband for staying out all night in the driving rain, she would mellow when she heard that he’d fought valiantly with a dangerous criminal, overpowered him in the Thames then dragged him off to gaol.

‘Women are too easily unsettled,’ said Yeomans, philosophically. ‘My wife is a good example. She worried incessantly when I first became a Runner and had a few setbacks. So I converted them into triumphs and she was content. Tell your wife only what you want her to believe.’

‘It’s what I always do,’ confessed Hale.

‘Then I’ll do the same,’ decided Ruddock.

‘Meanwhile, there’s something you haven’t told us.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Where is Paul Skillen now?’

Face blank and eyelids fluttering, Ruddock gave a despairing shrug.





Charlotte Skillen so rarely saw the two brothers together that she relished the treat. Seated in the room at the rear of the gallery, she listened as her husband described what had happened when he visited the Home Office. Paul was intrigued by the new development. A natural rebel, he felt sympathy for the fugitives, imprisoned beyond the time when they should have been released and showing great enterprise in escaping from Dartmoor and seeking to expose the truth behind the so-called mutiny. What he could not condone, of course, was the death threat hanging over the Home Secretary. While not as close to him as his brother, he admired Sidmouth for a number of reasons. The Home Secretary might be too dry and conservative for Paul’s liking but he had virtues that deserved respect. Since the man’s safety depended on the arrest of O’Gara and Dagg, they had to be caught soon.

‘Peter thinks that we should look for the scrivener who drew up the document for them,’ said Charlotte. ‘They’re not educated men. They had help.’

‘They’re also being sheltered by someone,’ Paul concluded. ‘This is a foreign country to them. It’s unlikely that they’ve ever been to a city the size of London. Anyone coming here for the first time would be completely lost, yet they’ve somehow found someone to look after them and find a scrivener.’

‘I agree,’ said Peter. ‘I warrant that Thomas O’Gara is the key figure here.’

‘Why is that?’ asked his wife.

‘He’s Irish. O’Gara is one of the hundreds of thousands who fled their native country because it offered them no prospects and went to America. Many of them came here as well, of course. Irish families are large and tend to be fiercely loyal to each other. It’s not beyond the bounds of possibility that O’Gara has family connections here whereas it’s unlikely that Dagg has relatives in London.’

‘Peter is right,’ said Paul. ‘We need to look at Irish communities.’

‘There are so many of them, alas.’

‘We’ll look for a branch of the O’Gara family.’

His brother grinned. ‘We’ll find dozens. It’s a common name.’

‘Then we’ll work through them one by one.’

‘I still think Peter’s suggestion is the better one,’ said Charlotte. ‘You need to track down the man who drafted that letter for them.’

‘He, too, might be Irish,’ argued Paul. ‘They’d be taking a risk if they employed a complete stranger. As soon as he realised who they were, he’d have been likely to report them.’

‘Unless he was coerced into helping them,’ she suggested.

‘That could be a factor, I agree.’

‘We have two lines of inquiry,’ summarised Peter. ‘I’ll search for the man who put their demands on paper. No reputable clerk would align himself with a pair of escaped prisoners, so I may be looking for someone who’s either disreputable or too poor to turn any work away. Paul, meanwhile, can search through the Irish communities here.’