Dennis Wheatley - The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

"It seems I must," Vorontzoff shivered again. "Tell me the price you demand quickly, so that we can get out of this accursed cold."

"I require you to write a letter to Colonel Thursby. You will begin by saying that, until to-night, to-day's tragic events had put but of your mind a meeting of the first importance which you must attend in London at midday to-morrow; therefore you cannot, after all, remain on to attend the inquest. You will go on to suggest that, instead, he should produce this letter at it; then give a full account of how Lady Etheredge and yourself planned to make an April Fool of Sir Humphrey. You will conclude by offering your apologies to the Colonel and Lady Etheredge for the early hour of your departure preventing you making your adieus to them." Roger paused for a moment, then added. "The production of that letter will support Lady Etheredge's testimony as effectively as if you had given it yourself. Do you agree to write it?"

Vorontzoff gave him a crafty look. "Do you attach any other con­ditions to restoring my complete freedom?"

"Only that you should also give me a chit for your coachman, ordering him to be ready to take you back to London at seven o'clock to-morrow morning; and an undertaking that you will set out at that hour without leaving any message behind you or having spoken to anyone at Stillwaters on the subject of Sir Humphrey's death."

"In the circumstances, Monsieur, you flatter me by placing any value on such an undertaking."

The chill of the icy atmosphere was getting into Roger's bones and he replied quickly. "Of that we will talk later; if you accept my terms?"

"I see no alternative," Vorontzoff muttered, with chattering teeth. "For God's sake let us get from this place."

"Take two of the candles in each of your hands, then," Roger told him, "and precede me down the passage. Think not of attempting to escape by dropping the lights and running off into the woods; for my legs are longer than yours and I should catch you before you had taken a dozen paces. Any trick of that kind will merely provide me with the excuse I would gladly have to give you a good thrashing."

Picking up his bag he followed the Russian to the entrance of the mound, then told him to halt there and sit down on the ground. The candles were set up out of the draught, just inside the doorway; and Roger having taken a pen, inkhorn and paper from his port­manteau, Vorontzoff used its top as a desk on which to write. In ten minutes the business was concluded. As Roger put the letter to the Colonel and the note to the coachman in his pocket he smiled to him­self; the whole matter had gone much more smoothly than he had expected.

Having collected his things he shut the door of the ice-house and walked down the slope with his prisoner to the wheelbarrow. On reach­ing it he said. "This might well have proved your Excellency's funeral coach. As it has not, you will be good enough to push it back to the shed from whence it came, which I will show you."

For a moment the Russian looked like rebelling, but on Roger giving him a vigorous push he picked up the handles of the barrow and set off with it along the path.

After they had covered a hundred yards in silence Roger remarked: "We will now talk a little about the undertaking which you have given me. As you have pointed out yourself, I have no means of pre­venting you from leaving a completely different written testimony for the chairman of to-morrow's inquiry, to the one you have just inscribed; or taking some other steps to repudiate your letter and be­tray Lady Etheredge and myself. Should you do so, have you con­sidered what the result of your act would be?"

"It would result in .the Lady Georgina and yourself providing a grim spectacle for the mob at Tyburn, one fine morning," replied Vorontzoff with an ugly laugh.

"Indeed, I think you right," agreed Roger, placidly. "At least all the odds favour such an outcome. You realise, then, that should you repudiate your letter to Colonel Thursby I must count my chance of life exceedingly slender?"

"So slender, Monsieur, that I mean to take an early opportunity of booking a window in a nearby house to see you hung."

" Twould be waste of money, since you will not be there to occupy it. We have an English proverb which fits the case to a nicety. It runs: 'Tis as well to be hung for a sheep as a lamb. Do you now per­ceive my meaning?"

Vorontzoff gave him a quick sideways glance. "You infer that if hang one must, it makes little difference if 'tis for one murder or for two."

"I am happy that your Excellency should have put so exact an interpretation on my thought. Should aught go awry at to-morrow's inquiry I shall hold you responsible. I shall have ample warning of any dangerous trend that it may take before I become suspect myself. Temporarily I may have to deprive myself of the privilege of doing what I can to protect my Lady Etheredge, but 'twill be easy for me to slip away, and get to horse without it even occurring to the sheriff's officers to detain me. Later, no doubt, the Bow Street runners will be asked to undertake my capture. There are some good men among them and they usually get their quarry in the end, I'm told. But I flatter myself that I shall be able to evade them for quite a while; and I now make you a promise. During that time, wherever you may be, I will seek you out and kill you."

The Russian knew that he was caught again. He enjoyed his life; and the prospect of having it menaced by an assassin who might spring out upon him from behind any bush or doorway for weeks, or perhaps months, to come, did not appeal to him at all. After a moment he said. "It seems that you hold all the cards, to-night, Monsieur. You may place full reliance on my undertaking and if aught goes ill in the matter of Sir Humphrey's death 'twill be through no act of mine."

"I felt sure that I had only to put the position to you frankly for you to see reason," replied Roger smoothly.

A few minutes later they reached the rambling outbuildings behind the house. Having replaced the wheelbarrow in its shed they went in by the Orangery and through the now dark suite of reception-rooms to the hall. Old Barney was sitting there polishing Georgina's new riding-boots to a mirror-like sheen. Roger slipped the chit that Voront­zoff had written for his coachman back into his hand. The Russian gave it to Barney for delivery first thing in the morning; then victor and vanquished in this midnight interview went upstairs side by side, to part with a curt "good-night" on the landing.

It was now getting on for two in the morning, but when Roger peeped into Georgina's room he saw her by her nightlight that she was not yet properly asleep. She was propped against her pillows with her eyes only half shut, so obviously dozing. The second she heard the faint noise of the door opening she started up, and after one swift look, exclaimed, " 'Tis you! Oh, God be thanked!"

"Surely you were not expecting anyone else to visit you at this hour," he smiled. "If 'tis so, to spare your blushes, I will withdraw at once."

"Oh, Roger, 'tis no time for teasing," she said reproachfully. "Tell me without delay. You—you have not killed him?"

"Nay. I have but this moment left the fellow sound in wind and limb, and on his way to bed. 'Tis all arranged, and we need fear nothing from him either to-morrow or in the future."

She sighed. "How did you work this miracle? Come; tell me all. I can scarce yet believe it possible,"

Roger perched himself on the side of her bed and gave a laughing re"sum6 of his doings since midnight. When he had done, she suddenly hid her face in her hands, and a moment later he saw that she was crying.

"What ails thee, sweetheart?" he asked her with swift concern. "Think not from the lightness of my tone that I would belittle the danger we were in. But, knowing that we had no intent to shed innocent blood, God has extended His protection to us; and given us both courage and sagacity wherewith to shield ourselves. I do assure thee that thou needest have no further fears. The worst, is over, and within a few hours now thou wilt not be called on to give another thought to this tragic business."