‘No. Sometimes there was rivalry between them, but it was friendly.’
‘What sort of rivalry?’
‘It was to do with cycling. Alexander could cycle faster than John and it annoyed John. It didn’t help that Alexander liked to brag about it too. He took it quite seriously, and even took various tonics to help him.’
‘Jackson’s Blood Purifier?’
‘That might have been one of them. I don’t really recall.’
‘It was mentioned in one of John’s letters. From what I’ve read, he began taking it too, but it didn’t improve his cycling.’
Jemima smiled. ‘It was probably one of those nonsense remedies.’
‘When was the last time you saw Alexander?’
‘At work. I worked as a secretary for one of the directors in the accounts department. I would speak to John and Alexander quite regularly. I would help them when they were looking for certain files or if they needed an appointment to speak to the manager about something. It was just another ordinary day that day. We all left about five and I remember saying goodbye to Alexander and that was that. He seemed his normal self. Nothing was troubling him and he was in a good mood.’
‘And you believe he moved away and the letter his sister received was from him.’
‘Only because I don’t like the thought of something horrible having happened to him. I want to believe he moved away. Even though it seems unlikely… it’s been what I’ve wanted to think for all these years.’
Chapter 35
Jemima’s hands trembled as she untied her apron and readied herself to collect her children from school.
Mrs Peel’s visit hadn’t been a surprise. When she had read the newspaper report about the letter being found, her stomach had turned. She had told her husband that she felt unwell and gone to bed for most of the day.
Since then, unpleasant memories had returned. Thoughts she couldn’t control. Her husband had noticed something was wrong and she had tried to reassure him she was alright.
He had no idea what had happened with Alexander. She hadn’t told anyone. Nor was she going to. Some secrets had to remain buried forever.
Jemima checked her appearance in the hallway mirror, then left the house.
Chapter 36
When Augusta returned to her flat that evening with Sparky, she found the door unlocked.
‘That’s funny,’ she said to the canary. ‘I could have sworn I locked the door this morning.’
She paused and thought about it some more. She couldn’t specifically remember locking the door when she had left that morning, but it was something she automatically did. Deciding she was being forgetful, she opened the door and stepped into the flat.
Everything was in disarray. The sofa cushions had been thrown onto the floor. Cupboards and drawers hung open.
There was little of much value in the flat apart from a few pieces of moderately-priced jewellery. Augusta turned to make her way to the bedroom when a dark figure leapt out from behind the armchair and dashed out of the door.
‘Wait!’ she called out. But she knew he had no intention of doing so. She placed Sparky’s cage on the dining table and ran after the man. At the top of the stairs, she could hear his footsteps thundering down the flight beneath her. She took off after him, taking two or three steps at a time and taking care not to fall.
Outside on Marchmont Street, she saw him running north in the direction of Euston Road. She followed as fast as she could, dodging people as she went.
Who was he? And what had he taken?
At the top of Marchmont Street, he turned right into Compton Street, and Augusta tried to keep him in her sight. At the corner by the hospital, he turned left up Judd Street. Augusta was breathing quickly now and her legs were tiring. She knew she had little chance of catching up with the man, but she wanted to see where he went.
Up ahead, at the end of the street, rose the tall edifice of the Grand Midland Hotel. Its red-brick spires speared the sky like the roof of a cathedral.
There were three railway stations close by: Euston, St Pancras, and King’s Cross. Was the man planning a getaway on a train? At the top of Judd Street, he turned right. She willed her legs to move faster as she ran up to Euston Road. Her throat was dry, and she felt a burning sensation in her legs and chest. She knew Euston Road would be busy. It would be easy to lose sight of him there.
At Euston Road, Augusta slowed and caught sight of the man dashing across the road towards King’s Cross station. With a fresh burst of exertion, she followed as fast as she could. She crossed Euston Road, dodging the vehicles and ignoring the beep of a horn.
The man headed for the entrance to the underground. It was a flight of steps leading down from the street, marked with a wrought-iron overhead sign. A moment later, the man had vanished down the steps.
Augusta reached the underground entrance, gasping for breath. Her head spun as she negotiated the steep, tiled steps to the ticket hall.
She felt light-headed from the exertion as she paused in the ticket hall. It was busy and the ticket office had a long queue.
There was no sign of the man. She approached the ticket inspector.
‘Did you see a man in a dark suit run through here just now?’
‘I might have done. Lots of folk are in a hurry.’
‘He took something from me. Did he have something in his hand?’
‘Not that I noticed.’ A man pushed past her, holding out his ticket for inspection. Augusta moved out of the way as the ticket inspector busied himself with the passengers passing through.
Augusta recovered her breath and reluctantly realised she had lost the man who had been in her flat.
All she could do now was return home and call the police.
