Page 77 of The Time for Love
“Indeed.” Without taking his eyes from Martin, Curtin retrieved a small notebook and pencil from a drawer. “Where and when did this kidnapping take place?”
“Yesterday, midmorning. I was visiting Mistymoor Manor, which is owned by my fiancée, and she and I were strolling in the shrubbery when I was coshed unconscious, and we were seized and removed to an old shepherd’s hut on the moors.”
“Good Lord.” Curtin looked down at his notebook and started scribbling.
Martin saw Curtin fleetingly raise his gaze to Lady Bracknell. No doubt the man was putting two and two together regarding the identity of Martin’s fiancée. They’d accepted that as unavoidable, but there was more than one way to achieve their desired goal.
Curtin looked at Martin. “Who was it who coshed and seized you? Did you see them?”
“Not at that time, but my fiancée did, and I did later, when we escaped. There were two of them, lower-level thugs for hire, it seems.” He rattled off the descriptions he and Sophy had agreed were accurate for the pair. “Once they had us secured in the hut, we were visited by the man they work for, who presented a document he demanded my fiancée sign. We’ve subsequently identified that third, more senior man as one Vincent Murchison.”
Curtin’s expression brightened. “Vince?” Then the implication of what Martin was going to bring about dawned, and Curtin smiled in wolfish anticipation. “You interest me greatly, sir. We would be exceedingly glad to be able to convict Vince Murchison on a charge of kidnapping and get him out of our hair.”
“Excellent.” Martin leaned back. “However, our interest—mine, my fiancée’s, and by extension, Lady Bracknell’s—is in identifying the man who hired Murchison. You see, while he was discussing the terms of our incarceration, Murchison let slip that he and his thugs were also responsible for a series of accidents that, of late, has plagued Carmichael Steelworks. Several of those accidents came close to being lethal. In addition, as part of their campaign, Murchison and his men were responsible for arranging for a dray from the Atlas Works to dump its load of pig iron on one of Sheffield’s busiest streets. That accident, too, could have had very serious consequences.”
“Great heavens!” Curtin scribbled busily. “With your descriptions of the kidnappers and knowing that their gaffer is Murchison, it’s easy to identify the pair as his favorite bully-boys.”
When Curtin glanced up, Martin caught and held his gaze. “While we now know Murchison and his men were responsible for all the aforementioned crimes, they are merely the hired help. The ultimate villain behind all these actions—the accidents, the kidnapping, and also a separate but connected attempt at blackmail—is the man who hired Murchison.”
Slowly, Curtin nodded. “Do you have any clue as to the identity of this man?”
“He’s been seen around town,” Martin replied, “but no one we’ve yet spoken to has been able to give us his name.” All of which was true; they didn’t want to beard Edward, not until they knew who the mystery man was and could judge how involved Edward might be in his scheme.
Curtin narrowed his eyes. “The obvious way to learn who hired Murchison is to get Vince to tell us.”
Martin inclined his head. “Indeed. And given the seriousness of the attacks on the steelworks, recently extending to the Atlas Works as well, we’re sure you understand how vital it is to identify that man and, ultimately, put an end to his game.”
“Of course,” Curtin agreed. “This is Sheffield. We take protecting our industries very seriously.”
Lady Bracknell nodded. “Just so. Now, Inspector, I am here to ensure that the name of Mr. Cynster’s fiancée remains unconnected to all police proceedings. It’s my considered opinion, and that of the lady in question and her family and of Mr. Cynster and his family, that as Mr. Cynster was kidnapped and is willing to bring charges, identifying the lady in question is neither here nor there. It would advance your and the police’s cause not one whit and would only generate a degree of sensationalism that I’m sure the mayor and aldermen of the town would much rather avoid.”
Curtin dipped his head. “Indeed, your ladyship. On that point, I am in complete agreement with you and Mr. Cynster.” He looked at Martin. “If you’re willing to lay charges against Murchison, we’ll be only too happy to haul him in, and during our interrogation, we’ll do our best to induce him to name the man who hired him.” The inspector huffed. “Truth to tell, I doubt that will be difficult. Given the right incentive, curs like Murchison are invariably only too ready to turn and bite the hand that’s fed them.”
Martin smiled; it seemed the inspector was on their side.
“Now, if you will both remain here”—Curtin pushed to his feet—“I’ll send some of my men to haul Vince Murchison and his two favorites in, and we’ll see what we can wring from them.”
Lady Bracknell inclined her head regally.
Martin met Curtin’s eyes. “I would like to be present during the interviews. Aside from anything else, I suspect seeing me will cause all three men no small degree of consternation, which you might find useful.”
Curtin grinned at the prospect. “I’ve no objection to you joining me.”
“Also,” Martin continued, “I’ve a friend who’s been assisting us in dealing with the accidents and trying to learn our mystery man’s name. I’d like to invite him—Mr. Oliver Coulter—to join us when we speak with Murchison and his thugs. In such situations, I’ve generally found that having an extra pair of observant eyes and another shrewd brain is an advantage. Oliver knows the facts of this case as well as I do. He might see something you and I miss.”
Curtin hesitated for only a second, then dipped his head in agreement. “Where is Mr. Coulter at present? Can he be easily summoned here?”
Oliver and Charlie had arrived at Lady Bracknell’s house just as she and Martin had been about to set off. The pair had volunteered to wait there with Sophy.
Martin gave Curtin the St. James’ Street address.
The inspector nodded. “I’ll send a constable to fetch the gentleman. Now, if you’ll excuse me”—his eyes lit with anticipation—“I’ll arrange for Murchison and his boys to be brought in.”
Curtin went.
Lady Bracknell arched her brows at Martin. “That went better than I’d hoped.”
“Indeed.” He glanced at the doorway through which Curtin had gone. “Now, we wait and see.”
