Paul stiffened. ‘I came because I chose to,’ he said, stoutly, ‘and I don’t need your permission to do anything. Now please stand aside or I’ll be forced to make you do so. I’ve never set eyes on either of you before and I sincerely hope that I never do so again.’ He looked from one to the other. ‘Well, are you going to move out of my way or aren’t you?’

Before they could reply, he pushed them forcibly apart and walked between them, leaving both men spluttering with indignation.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Having secured the unwilling cooperation of his victim, the assassin marched his prisoner through the backstreets until they came to St James’s Park, the very place where he himself had been destined to die. Taking him into a wooded area, he pushed him hard against a tree.

‘Don’t kill me,’ pleaded the man. ‘I’ll get you the money we owe you.’

‘It’s too late.’

‘Then take my purse. Take anything I have about me.’

The assassin was unmoved. ‘I’ll take the most important thing you have.’

‘It wasn’t my decision to betray you.’

‘Then whose decision was it?’

‘I can’t tell you that.’

‘In that case,’ said the assassin, pointing the pistol at him, ‘you’re of no use whatsoever to me.’

‘No, don’t, I implore you.’

‘You can’t beg from a beggar. That’s what I was reduced to being, thanks to you. Promises were made then forgotten. I was betrayed. To get close to you, I had to become the lowest of the low.’

‘I was only acting on someone else’s orders.’

‘Give me his name.’

‘I can’t do that,’ said the other, trembling with fear. ‘There’s something I can tell you, however. When I met you here in the park, I had an accomplice in hiding. He was there to kill you.’

‘What was his name?’

‘Will you let me go if I give it to you?’

‘I might.’

‘I need a firm promise.’

‘Like the one you gave me?’ asked the other, sourly.

‘I spoke up for you, I swear it.’

‘You’re lying.’

‘You did your job well. If it had been left to me, you’d have been paid and sent on your way.’

‘Yes – with a bullet inside me.’

‘On my word of honour, I argued against that.’

‘Who was the man who shot at me?’

‘I’ll need something in return.’

‘You’ll get it,’ said the assassin. ‘I promise.’

‘His name is Robert Vane. He lodges at a house next to the White Lion in Gilbert Street.’

‘I’ll find him.’

‘Does that mean I can go?’

‘No,’ said the other, thrusting his pistol in the man’s stomach. ‘If you want any mercy from me, you must give me the name of the person who set the plot in motion in the first place.’

‘I simply can’t do that.’