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‘I haven’t got any money,’ he protested. ‘Let me go.’ Then he saw Garrick and me and reeled back. Apparently we were even more frightening than the highwaymen he appeared to believe Luc and James were.

We all dismounted and got him over the fence and he stared at us with a mixture of defiance, fear and confusion. Under normal circumstances I guessed he was quite an attractive young man – tall, with regular features, large brown eyes and a pale Celtic complexion.

‘What… What do you want?’ Then he looked properly at Luc. ‘My lord?’

‘You know me.’

‘You live in the Square, my lord. Just along from Lord Tillingham.’

‘And so does this gentleman.’ Luc gestured towards Garrick who had the footman pinned up against the fence. ‘You must have recognised him also. So why did you run from him?’

‘They say he’s a hard man. One who does the dirty work for the gentry.’

Garrick snorted. ‘What did you think I wanted?’ he demanded. ‘And what made you frightened enough to climb out of a window instead of simply closing the door on me?’

‘Thought that Eastern gent had sent you.’

That had us all staring at him.

‘What Eastern gent?’ I asked. ‘When?’

‘Him what came and saw his lordship on the Friday. He was angry and they had words. And when he left I heard him say that his lordship had best do what he promised or there would be the very devil to pay. That’s what he said: the very devil. And he sort of hissed it. Gave me the right shivers he did, because he looked like Mr Adrien, but black-like. Devilish.’

‘He has black hair and brown skin,’ I said. ‘That does not make him devilish.’

‘Yes, well, that’s as maybe, Miss. But I heard him and he saw me staring at him and knew I’d heard and then two days later his lordship’s dead. I heard it down The Blue Duck, Monday night.’

‘You had been dismissed and were serving out your notice,’ I pointed out.

‘That weren’t fair. It was just a bit of fun, cheeky, you know?’ We all just looked at him. ‘I’d had a drop to drink,’ he muttered. ‘Weren’t right, not to give me a character.’

‘You were tipsy, you insulted your employer and all on the Sabbath,’ Garrick said. ‘I cannot say I blame his lordship. What was he supposed to write? This man drinks to the extent it affects his judgment and he mocks those who pay his wages?’

‘So you had a grudge against Lord Tillingham,’ Luc said. ‘You overheard his angry visitor, so perhaps you thought that there was someone who would be blamed. You knew Lord Tillingham’s habits and you knew about the window from the back garden that was likely to be open: or you could have slipped the latch earlier. He was found dead the morning after you left. It all adds up. I think the magistrate in charge of this case would like to have a word with you, Campbell.’

The footman bared his teeth then, with eel-like agility, wriggled free from Garrick’s grasp and hurled himself at me. He swung me around, one arm behind my back and, from somewhere, he produced a knife. At the sight of it at my throat the other three men went very still.

I hadn’t spent hours in the police dojo practicing unarmed combat to deal with anything from belligerent drunks to youths waving knives around to put up with this. I rolled my eyes at Luc, gave a panicky sob and slumped into an apparent faint. That dragged the knife down away from my jugular and threw Campbell off-balance. An elbow in the gut, a foot around his ankle and a shift in my weight and he was on the ground with my heel on the wrist of his knife hand.

James and Garrick pounced on him while Luc swept me into a dramatic dip and kissed me.

After that very satisfactory interval Garrick searched Campbell with ruthless thoroughness and produced two more knives. ‘And what do you need this lot for?’ he asked, waving them in front of the man’s face.

‘Protection,’ Campbell spat back. ‘Look what happens when I take an innocent ride out of Town!’

‘You ran because you are scared,’ Luc said. ‘You had reason to hate Lord Tillingham, you carry knives and you’ve something on your conscience. What do you reckon the magistrate will think that is?’

‘I didn’t kill him! That Indian bastard did, but you’ll have me at the rope’s end because I’m just a footman.’

I looked at Luc. It all seemed to hang together (no pun intended) and yet…

The men put him up behind Garrick with his hands tied and we made our way back to Rook’s Acre at a walk, the exhausted horse on a leading rein behind us.

When Campbell was securely locked in the cellar, with one of the burlier grooms outside the door, we all went for much-needed baths and to change for dinner.

* * *

After the meal we sat around and attempted to make sense of what we had learned.


Tags: Louise Allen Science Fiction