Page 57 of Marriage and Murder
Madeline made no attempt to draw her arm from the safe harbor of Henry’s but was forced to allow Monty to wind her other arm in his. She held back her emotions and managed a wan smile for him, then as a trio, they walked on along the pavement.
She tried not to focus on the thought that the man who had strangled Viola to death was walking by her side, his arm anchoring hers. The important thing, she told herself, was to get Monty as close to the police station as possible. With any luck, they would see a constable coming to or leaving the building and be able to enlist his aid in seizing Monty.
Of course, Monty used the moments as they walked along to chatter and, beneath the mundanity of his comments, ask apparently artless yet prying questions. Henry proved adept at batting those away without revealing anything, and Madelinedid her best to contribute and keep Monty’s attention diverted from where they were leading him.
Several times, she noticed that he glanced over his shoulder, and once, turning her head, she caught a glimpse of a large man walking along the pavement across the street. The man was hanging back but keeping pace as if he was watching to see what would happen. Madeline found that curious, but she didn’t have time to dwell on the point. As they approached Endless Street, a group of people came marching around the corner.
Madeline was hugely relieved to see Penelope, Barnaby, and Stokes among the group, along with Price and several of Stokes’s men.
Henry, too, recognized the others and lengthened his stride, just as the oncoming group registered the three of them approaching and did the same.
Pincer had been looking over his shoulder again and was momentarily unbalanced by the sudden surge as he was propelled forward by Henry and Madeline. “Here, I say!” He stumbled, hurrying to get his feet moving faster. “Why the sudden rush?”
Then he looked ahead and saw the answer.
Pincer halted—simply planted his feet and stopped.
Before Henry and Madeline could yank him forward again, Pincer seized Madeline’s arm with both hands and hauled her roughly back, away from Henry. “No,” Pincer said, horrified desperation in his face. Then he started backpedaling, pulling Madeline, now stumbling herself, with him. “Stop!” With his gaze locked on the approaching police, he yelled, “Stay back!”
Led by Stokes, the group slowed, uncertain.
Henry heard their footsteps slow, then halt, but all his brain could focus on was that Pincer was hurting Madeline, twisting her arm and making her wince.
For quite the first time in his life, Henry saw red. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!”
He stepped around Madeline and plowed his fist into Pincer’s face.
“Ah!”Pincer squawked and reeled back, releasing Madeline to clutch his nose.
Henry drew Madeline to him and, wrapping his arms protectively around her, backed away.
Then Morgan, O’Donnell, and Price rushed in and seized Monty Pincer.
Madeline saw the constables grappling with Monty, and she slumped against Henry’s chest, where she felt safe and utterly secure. When, a moment later, the constables stepped back, revealing Monty with his hands secured behind his back and his nose streaming red, her mood lifted considerably.
Penelope bustled up with Barnaby. “Are you all right?”
Madeline nodded but made no move to leave the circle of Henry’s strong arms. “We were hoping to lead Monty to the police station, but this worked even better.”
Stokes and Mallard came up. Mallard was studying the man who’d been following Madeline, Henry, and Pincer along the opposite pavement. Large, heavyset, tending portly, and dressed in the manner of a quietly prosperous businessman, the man had halted and was openly watching the constables lead Pincer away.
Henry nodded toward the unknown man. “Pincer kept glancing in his direction.”
“Several times,” Madeline added.
“Did he?” Mallard glanced at Stokes. “That’s Johnson, O’Reilly’s man in town.”
“O’Reilly being?” Stokes asked.
“The biggest moneylender in these parts.” Mallard looked at the man across the street. “Let me have a word with Johnsonand see if there’s anything he’s willing to share with us.” Mallard tipped his head to where the constables were chivvying Pincer along. “In the circumstances.”
Stokes nodded. “Good idea. We’ll wait here.”
They stood and watched as Mallard lumbered over to the opposite pavement and, after nodding to the man, whose expression had settled into one of quiet satisfaction, Mallard halted and simply said, “Johnson. Obviously, you know Pincer. I take it he’s one of your master’s clients.”
The group across the street could just hear Johnson’s rumbling reply. “Ex-client, I’m thinking.”
Mallard said, “I don’t suppose you’d like to tell us what you know of Pincer’s recent doings.”
