A closed fraternity also meant that not even the redoubtable Sergeant Gibson at the Yard had a ghost of a chance to trace him once Walsh disappeared into it. Big as he was, he could still vanish. The key was to stop him before he reached that safety.

Rutledge bent to turn the crank and then got behind the wheel of his motorcar. But if the object of this exercise was to block Walsh’s escape, the question became How? Cutting across country as he was, he could be anywhere.

Hamish said, “What precipitated his escape?”

“At a guess, he chose tonight because Franklin was on duty—young enough and naive enough to be gulled. Innocent or guilty, men of Walsh’s ilk don’t rely on justice to set them free. Blevins and his people made no secret of the fact that they were eager to see Walsh hang. Or— perhaps he wanted to find out for himself that Iris Kenneth was alive.”

“No man would choose to die by the rope,” Hamish reminded him.

Rutledge turned west. It was instinct and not reason that guided him now. Somewhere before Hunstanton on the north coast, Walsh must pick up the road to King’s Lynn. Key to the rest of England.

Inland from the coast road were a hundred hills and meadows that would provide better cover. But on the other side of the coin, estates like Lord Sedgwick’s and villages like East Sherham would block Walsh’s path, forcing him slightly north . . . toward the road.

Hamish was swift to remind Rutledge that he was counting on unadulterated luck.

Yet Rutledge had the strongest feeling that if he drove as far west as the turning for Burnham Market, and then began to follow the tangle of roads that led back to the east from there, he might just have that stroke of luck. . . .

The sky was lighter now; he could no longer see his face reflected in the dark windscreen. And—thank God—never Hamish’s.

He scanned the horizons, eyes only half on the road.

A horseman silhouetted against the horizon wouldn’t attract much attention. But Walsh would be no ordinary horseman. He was a huge man on a large, heavy mount, blundering through fields and across plowed land, depending on his sense of direction to keep him heading west. He risked stirring up sheep and their guardian dogs—and eventually someone was bound to see him.