Page 95 of Return Ticket

He could hear the sergeant turning pages. “Black Mercedes.” He gave the registration number and the street it was found in.

Gabriella’s street.

“Have they released the man who was tied up?” James asked. “He might be the person of interest we’ve been looking for for the last few days.”

“No, the bobby didn’t know what to do, so he called it in.” The sergeant flipped a few more pages. “Do you want to go fetch him?”

James looked at his watch. The lawyer Harold Blythe had insisted on could only make it in this afternoon.

He had time.

“I’ll come. Tell them to wait for me.” He went back to his office to fetch his coat, and found Whetford hovering just inside his door.

“Sir.” He reached for his coat, and began shrugging into it. “If you need to discuss something with me, do you mind if we walk and talk? I have to pick up a suspect, but I also need to go over information before I question Harold Blythe this afternoon, so I’m unfortunately pressed for time.”

“Certainly.” Whetford didn’t sound happy about it, but he stepped out of James’s office. “Well done on the arrest last night. Will it hold water?”

“For the abduction and assault on Katie Brompton, it definitely will. The same goes for the assault on Mr. Somerville and on me.” James shrugged. “The rest is something we’ll have to work on. DC Hartridge is in Kent this morning, looking over Blythe’s house. Maybe we’ll find something there that links Blythe to the murders we believe he committed.” He kept quiet about the glove that linked Blythe to the attack on Mrs. Gallagher. No point letting Whetford know that he’d been down in the archives, looking through old evidence boxes.

James wondered briefly how the reopened murder case was going for Whetford. Whether he was in any danger.

He gave Whetford a more thorough look, and under his scrutiny, Whetford shifted a little, as if nervous.

“Very well. That’s good work.” They had reached the stairwell, and Whetford started up the stairs to his office. “Keep me informed.”

“Yes, sir.” James ran quickly down the stairs and thought maybe Whetford did look a little gray. He found he had no twinge of conscience about it at all.

When he reached Notting Hill, he felt something go cold inside him at how close Tanner’s car was to Gabriella’s house. There was a small crowd gathered on the pavement, trying to get a look at what was happening. The bobby had been joined by a colleague, and they were starting to look a bit desperate.

When the Wolseley pulled up, James could see them breathe a sigh of relief.

“DS Archer? PC Naigle.” Naigle gave him a nod. “This the man you’re looking for?” He stepped back, allowing James a look inside the car, and there was Tanner, furious eyes snapping above a black fabric gag which was tied around his mouth and nose.

“That’s him.” As he took out his handcuffs, he glanced at the crowd.

Jerome was among the group, and when he caught James looking at him, he gave a sly wink and then backed away.

Mystery solved.

James fought a quiet battle not to smile as he helped the PCs untie the rope around Tanner’s wrists and ankles, and cut off the gag.

“Let me at least stretch out before you put those on me,” Tanner said, giving the handcuffs a dark look as he shook out his limbs. “I was the victim of an assault.”

“Do you know the identity of your attacker?” James asked, ignoring him and getting on the handcuffs.

“Attackers. Plural. And no, they wore masks. But they were Jamaicans or something. Black fellows.” Tanner’s gaze scanned the crowd, which was a representative mix of the British Empire.

James looked up at Gabriella’s flat, but her curtains were closed and he wondered if she even knew what was going on down here.

He wanted to run up and knock on her door so badly, but the clock was ticking and he hoped Hartridge had some news for him. He didn’t want to be away from the phone too long.

“Let’s go.” He put Tanner in the back of the Wolseley, and headed back to Scotland Yard, grateful that the fog had blown away with the wind this morning.

“So you went back to Miss Farnsworth’s house in your car after you chased her in the fog?” he asked. He would have seen the Mercedes if it had been there last night, he was sure of it, and if the man he’d seen last night really had been Tanner, he’d been on foot.

“You know about that?” Tanner asked, surprised. “About running after her in the fog?”

“I spoke to her about it shortly after she managed to evade you.” James still recalled the shot of fear that had crackled through him when he’d first heard Gabriella call his name. He never wanted to feel that way again, and Tanner was responsible for it.

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