The assassin’s anger continued to burn inside him. Since he was now being hunted, he first bought himself a complete change of clothing so that he became invisible. Those looking for the dandy he’d once been would never recognise him in the rough garb of a beggar. An exaggerated limp completed his disguise. While he didn’t know who had actually ordered the murder of Sir Roger Mellanby, he knew the man who’d hired him and promised to hand over full payment. What he didn’t have was his address because his paymaster had been careful to meet him well away from his house. Their deal was struck at the man’s club, a place he visited on a daily basis. The assassin therefore went to the club and lurked outside in the shadows. Seated cross-legged against a wall with a begging bowl in front of him, he was able to watch everyone who went into or came out of the club.

His long, uncomfortable wait was eventually rewarded. Tall, lean and elegant, the man he sought came out of the building and walked along the pavement towards him. When he saw the beggar, he moved a couple of feet to his left so that he’d avoid him. Waiting for his moment, the assassin suddenly leapt to his feet and thrust his pistol in the man’s ribs.

‘Make a sound and I’ll kill you,’ he warned.

Paul Skillen was glad that he’d spoken to Sir Marcus Brough the second time. On the first occasion, he’d found the man rather engaging and ready to talk freely about the assassination of a fellow Member of Parliament. There was a difference this time. While Paul had been given the same cheerful greeting, it was clear that Sir Marcus was unhappy about being accosted in front of his friends at the House of Commons. Though he’d answered all the questions put to him, he hadn’t done so with his earlier readiness. The bluff, hearty, adipose Sir Marcus revealed another side to his character. Paul began to see why he’d been named as one of the Radical Dandy’s prime enemies.

When he left the building, he was too busy thinking about what he’d just learnt to notice the two figures standing a short distance away. They, however, were quick to see him and came across to intercept him. Edmund Mellanby and Barrington Oxley stood in his way.

‘What are you doing here, Skillen?’ asked Oxley.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Paul. ‘I don’t believe I know either of you gentlemen.’

‘Then your memory is pathetically short.’

‘I find that remark offensive, sir.’

‘I am the one who should be offended,’ said Edmund, pompously. ‘I told you that I didn’t want you prying into the affairs of my family, yet it seems you may still be doing so.’

‘Why else would you come to the House of Commons?’ asked Oxley.