Chapter 17 #2
We made it back to the motorcar and out of Thornton Heath without being stopped and questioned by the local police.
If they were keeping an eye on the place, as Tom had claimed, they weren’t keeping a close enough eye to notice us come and go.
Which was just as well. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck in the Thornton Heath jail when it came time to throw the money bag into the tube train at the Dover Street station tonight.
“Do you suppose there’s a particular reason for Dover Street?” I asked Crispin as we motored away, back toward London.
He thought for a moment. “It’s the last station before Piccadilly, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “I’m surprised you know that. Have you ever even been in the underground?”
Unlike the hoi polloi, he didn’t have to use the tube to get around. And while the underground is quick and convenient—and cheap—I wouldn’t use it if I didn’t have to.
“Once or twice,” he told me, “for scavenger hunts.”
I nodded. “Yes, Dover Street is the last station before Piccadilly. Or the first after, if you go the other way.”
“Piccadilly is a station where a lot of train lines meet, isn’t it?”
“The Piccadilly and Bakerloo lines intersect there. But if you go a stop or two north or south, Bakerloo intersects with Central London at Oxford Circus, and with Hampstead and South London both at Charing Cross. Plenty of places to go from Piccadilly. Including up. Piccadilly Circus itself is a bit of a mess at the moment, what with the construction, but there are still lots of people there. Crowds to get lost in.”
The transit authority was constructing a new tube station at Piccadilly, to handle the millions of people who commuted through it every year. The Eros statue in the middle of the circus had been removed, and was placed at the Embankment for the time being, to keep it safe.
“I’m sure Tom will have someone on the train,” I added, “to follow the bag and whoever picks it up. Wherever they end up taking it.”
Crispin nodded. “This entire business is frustrating.”
It was frustrating to me too, although perhaps not for the same reason.
“I’m sorry about Laetitia, St George.” I realized how that must sound, and I added, in an effort to sound more sincere, “Truly. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”
He flicked me a look. “Thank you, Darling, but you can imagine it well enough, I’m certain. We lost Kit for a few days two months ago. You know exactly how it feels.”
Well, yes. But— “You’re not comparing Laetitia to Christopher, I hope? I mean… I’m sure you must care for her. You wouldn’t be marrying her otherwise. But it’s hardly the same.”
He huffed. “I know that, Darling. But that wasn’t what I meant. It’s frustrating because I don’t understand it.”
“What’s to understand? Wolfgang saved himself from the water—he must have made it onto the freighter somehow—and then he came back to England…”
“Yes,” Crispin said, “but why? He was back in Germany. He had committed murder and attempted murder in England, not to mention kidnapping, and he had narrowly escaped being arrested for it. Why return, if he was already away?”
“Perhaps he’s wanted for something in Germany, as well? Or perhaps he’s still hoping to kill me so he can get his hands on my inheritance?”
“Then why not simply kidnap you again?”
“Because I’ve already been kidnapped once, and I’m on guard?”
He flicked me a look. “Are you?”
I made a face. I hadn’t been, no. I had assumed Wolfgang dead, or at least far away, so I didn’t have to worry about him. Which made it all the more likely that he could have snatched me had he wanted to.
Crispin nodded when I said so. “But instead he took Laetitia. Why?”
“He might have given up on the inheritance and decided to get rich in a different way. He knows that you have plenty of money, and I suppose he thought you’d pay handsomely to get your fiancée back.”
“As I would. Of course. But he could also have asked for more. Ten thousand pounds is a lot, but it’s not a fortune. Not for someone who expected to inherit a Grafschaft in Germany.”
Perhaps not. “How much more would you have paid?”
He hesitated. “Double, easily. Perhaps triple. It wouldn’t have started to hurt until we got to five or ten times the ransom demand. And I would have had to do it, you know. It would have looked awful if I refused.”
Yes, it would have done. “You don’t suppose he plans to keep her and make another demand, do you?”
“I don’t see how he can keep her forever,” Crispin said. “Or for any length of time, really. Flossie was one thing. No one knew that she was missing. But we know that Laetitia’s gone, and we’re actively looking for her. The situation is wholly different.”
Yes, it was. “Let’s hope tonight will be the end of it.”
“Let’s do.” He turned the Hispano-Suiza onto the London Road toward Streatham and Brixton. “I’m ready for this to be over.”
So was I.
Back in London, we reconvened with Tom and Christopher, who arrived at Sutherland House in time for supper.
They had not had any more luck than we had had in their endeavors.
“A shopkeeper in Brick Lane recognized Natterdorff’s picture,” Tom said, “but not from recently; from when he lived nearby this autumn. He has not seen him in the past two months.”
“If he’s back in London, he may have chosen a different area to live in this time. I would have done.”
Tom nodded. “There’s no reason to think he would have met Leonid in the past few weeks. More than likely, they knew each other from before.”
“We drew a blank, as well,” I said. “The house in Thornton Heath was empty, and looked like no one had been there since the local constables finished their investigation. The back door was unlocked, and the boards were still up on the window.”
Christopher suppressed a visible shudder. I added, “I don’t see any reason to go there again for the rest of our lives.”
“Nor do I,” Tom confirmed and placed his fork on his plate in a final sort of way. “We’d better discuss tonight.”
“Go on, then.”
“I’ve spoken to Finch. We’ll have a constable in mufti in every compartment of the train, except for the last one. We thought it best to leave that one to Natterdorff alone, or if not Natterdorff, to whomever turns up to retrieve the ransom.”
“The better not to scare him off, I suppose?”
“That’s correct. We’ll also have someone on the platform at Dover Street, as well as at Piccadilly Circus. That should stop him from being able to get away with the money.”
“So I just go to Dover Street station,” Crispin said, “wait for the train to arrive, throw the bag into the last compartment, and walk away?”
His tone indicated his reluctance to take this course of action in much the same way that mine would have done.
Tom nodded. “That’s the idea. It’s best not to take any chances with the instructions, don’t you agree?”
Whether Crispin agreed or not wasn’t the point. He obviously did. None of us wanted to do anything to upset the kidnapper. But there was also the concern of, “How do I know that the wrong person won’t walk off with the money? If you don’t plan to have a constable in the train car?”
“You don’t,” Tom said. “But you didn’t have any guarantees in Battersea Park or Arnold Circus, either.”
“He’s got you there,” I said, and Crispin gave me a distinctly unhappy look.
“Yes, Darling. I’m aware. But it’s my money and my fiancée. I would like to be part of the solution, instead of just launching the money into nothingness and hoping for the best.”
“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” Tom explained, kindly but inexorably. “You’re a civilian, Your Grace, as well as a victim in your own right.”
Crispin opened his mouth, offense in every line of his body, and Tom continued, “It’s your fiancée that’s missing, and you’re a victim of blackmail. I’m afraid I can’t allow you to take part in the operation.”
“But I’m already part of the operation,” Crispin argued. “Why can’t I just stick around after I hand over the money? The train will leave. I shouldn’t have to leave, too.”
“That’s your part of the job,” Tom replied. “The note said, very clearly, that you’re expected to leave the money and walk away. We don’t want to spook this chap, so you’ll follow the directions exactly. Won’t you, Your Grace?”
Crispin made a face. “I suppose I will.”
“I assume that goes for the rest of us, too?” I asked Tom. “You won’t let us be there, either?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Pippa.”
“Can we at least accompany Crispin to the tube station,” Christopher wheedled, “the way we did to Battersea Park and Arnold Circus? The note didn’t say that we couldn’t be there.”
“I would prefer that you didn’t,” Tom said, with a glance at him, “but I don’t suppose I can stop you.”
“Where will you be? Not with us?”
Tom shook his head. “I’ll be at Piccadilly Circus.
Finch will be at the Dover Street station.
We’ll have constables with us, and there’ll be constables on the train.
All you three have to do, is arrive on the platform, wait for the train, and then deposit the bag inside the last door before the door closes again. And then you walk away. That’s all.”
He looked from one to the other of us, sternly. We all three nodded and endeavored to look like obedient children. I’m not sure whether it came off, but Tom must have been convinced, at any rate, because he said no more.
The wee hours after midnight saw the three of us descending the staircase into the depths of the Dover Street tube station. We were all warmly dressed, in tweeds and jumpers and sensible shoes, and I carried the carpet bag, while Christopher and Crispin flanked me on either side.