‘One day I may even surpass him.’
‘I doubt it,’ warned Charlotte. ‘A sword is like a fifth limb to Gully.’ She studied her brother-in-law. ‘I must say that you’re looking in your prime, Paul. When he saw you yesterday, Peter said that you were far from your best.’
‘That was the result of overindulgence, I fear,’ admitted Paul. ‘I’d had a chastening experience in Jermyn Street. I feel my old self today.’
‘You ought to seek entertainment away from the card table.’
‘I’ve told myself that many times, Charlotte.’
‘There was a time when you loved the theatre.’
‘Yes,’ said Huckvale, ‘it used to be your passion.’
‘Peter and I went to see Venice Preserv’d yesterday,’ she said. ‘We were spellbound from start to finish. Hannah Granville is the most extraordinary actress. You really ought to see her, Paul. She’s giving a performance that left the pair of us dazzled. Peter is not as fond of the theatre as I am but Miss Granville enthralled him. You’d love her as well.’
Paul made no comment. He was doing his best to cope with the sudden pain he felt. Without realising it, Charlotte had just opened a wound and poured in a liberal amount of salt.
After he’d collected the money from the bank, David Beyton was in a continuous panic. The purse in which he’d put the banknotes seemed to be red hot and to weigh a ton. He was terrified that someone would rob him and reproached himself for not taking Peter Skillen with him by way of protection. Having got safely back to the Home Office, he locked the purse in a drawer and applied himself to his duties. In the afternoon, he excused himself to go off to an unspecified appointment. When he held the purse once more in his hands, it seemed even heavier.
He met Peter at an inn close to Hyde Park.
‘Thank God you’ve come!’ he said.
‘I always honour a promise, Mr Beyton.’
‘I’ve been in agony. It’s a miracle that I was able to keep a straight face at the bank and at work. I’ve had a fire raging inside me since I got up.’
‘What you’re doing is a means to an end,’ Peter reminded him, ‘and none of it would have been necessary had you not put yourself – and Mrs Horner, of course – in such a vulnerable position.’
‘Don’t pour scorn on me, Mr Skillen,’ begged the other. ‘I can do that for myself. I just want to know what I must do.’
‘It’s quite simple, Mr Beyton. Follow the path designated in the ransom demand and wait until someone relieves you of the money. Your work is then done. Leave everything else to us.’
‘You’ve brought assistance?’
‘My wife and one of our servants will be hovering nearby,’ said Peter. ‘What I fail to see, my wife certainly will. You, meanwhile, can go back to the Home Office.’
‘But I want to know the consequences.’
‘You’ll have to be patient.’
‘And I must have the money back,’ insisted Beyton.
‘You have a disturbing habit of forgetting the plight of Mrs Horner. She is the victim here and not you. Bear that in mind as you walk through the park.’ He glanced at the man’s ashen complexion. ‘Do you need a drink to stiffen your spirit?’
‘I couldn’t hold a thing down.’
‘Then let’s go,’ said Peter, getting up. ‘You lead the way and I’ll follow on behind. Listen out for the clock chiming the hour. That’s your cue. If you’re not there at the exact time they stipulated, they’ll walk away and implement their threat.’
Donal Kearney knew that he’d come. Dermot Fallon was not a man given to acts of mercy. Once he’d identified an enemy, he’d take action against him. Kearney was the latest victim. His attempt to talk his way out of his dilemma had not only failed, it had gained him a terrible beating. He could barely see through one eye and the whole of his body was throbbing with pain. Kearney spent all the time at the window, staring down at the court below and fearing the return of Fallon. To his alarm, the man finally appeared with his dog, striding into the court with a sense of purpose before stopping to talk to one of his neighbours. Kearney couldn’t hear what was being said but he quailed when Fallon pointed up to the window out of which he was looking. Pulling away, the chimney sweep rounded on his wife.
‘Take the children into the other room,’ he snapped.
‘Why? What’s happened, Donal?’
He raised a hand. ‘I won’t tell you twice.’
‘We’re going,’ she said, ushering the three small children out of the room. ‘But I’d still like to know why.’