The Silver Locomotive Mystery (10 page)

‘I can understand that,’ said Carys, ‘though you missed an absolutely splendid performance. And, for once in his life, the mayor managed to provide a reception worthy of the name. You were both sorely missed.’

‘We can see the play another night.’

‘I’d recommend that you do so, Clifford.’

‘I’m not really in the mood for watching
Macbeth
,’ said Winifred. ‘I find it such a depressing play.’

‘It was truly inspiring at the Theatre Royal. Everyone was there. But,’ she went on, holding out the letter in her hand, ‘I’m forgetting my other duty. I’m delivering your post this morning.’

Tomkins took it from her. ‘Where did this come from?’

‘It was handed to me at the gate,’ explained Carys. ‘As we slowed down to turn into your drive, a rather rough-looking
individual stepped out of the bushes and asked me to bring this up to the house. I didn’t see any harm in doing that.’ She noticed the exchange of nervous glances between them. ‘Have I done something wrong?’

‘Not at all, not at all,’ said Tomkins.

‘I suppose I should have told that man to deliver it himself. All that he had to do was to walk up the drive and put it through the letterbox. But he lurked outside the gate as if he was frightened of doing that.’ She looked from one to the other. ‘Why was that, do you think?’

‘I really don’t know,’ said Winifred.

‘Did you get a good look at this fellow?’ asked Tomkins. ‘I mean, would you know him if you saw him again?’

Carys was uncertain. ‘I’m not sure,’ she replied. ‘I remember his clothes rather than his face. They were so grubby. He wasn’t a young man and he clearly hadn’t shaved for days. Also, he was wearing a hat with the brim pulled down.’ She gave a shrug. ‘That’s all I can tell you, really. Why are you so interested in the man?’

‘No reason,’ said Tomkins, moving to the door. ‘And do forgive our manners, Carys. Come in and take a seat. Now that you’re here, I’ll organise some refreshments.’

He went off into the hall and the two women sat down. Caught off guard by the sudden visit, Winifred was obviously discomfited. Carys’s inquiry was deliberately gentle.

‘Is there any news about the coffee pot?’

‘No,’ said Winifred, ‘but the police are looking for it. There’s a detective from London in charge of the case.’

‘Yes, I had a visit from Inspector Colbeck. He’s a most engaging gentleman but I still don’t know why he felt obliged
to call on me. I don’t suppose that
you
suggested he did so, did you?’

‘No, no,’ lied the other.

‘I was sure you wouldn’t do a thing like that. It’s the sort of thing Martha Pryde might do in the circumstances but not you.’

Winifred’s tone was vinegary. ‘I suppose that
she
was at the play last night, trying to get as much attention as usual. I really don’t know what I saw in Lady Pryde. She turned out to be a real monster.’

‘Those of us who know her discovered that long ago.’

‘Yet you still continue to see her.’

‘Only now and again,’ said Carys, ‘and not with any pleasure. I’d hate to be thought of as a close friend of hers. I’m more of a distant acquaintance. It’s her manner I object to – she will hector.’

She was about to pass some more remarks about Lady Pryde when they were interrupted by Tomkins. Opening the door, he thrust an anxious face into the room.

‘Excuse me, ladies,’ he said, forcing a smile. ‘I wonder if I could have a word with you in private, Winifred? Something has arisen.’

Jeremiah Stockdale arranged for the coffin to be loaded into the guard’s van of the train before Effie Kellow even arrived at the station. He felt that she would be upset if she saw her brother’s body arriving in a wooden casket. Victor Leeming was touched by his friend’s consideration and told him so. The two men stood on the platform to wave the train off. Constable Roberts, pleased to have a day that did not entail
pounding his beat in Cardiff, waved back at them through the window. Effie did not even glance in their direction. As on the journey to the town, she sat motionless in deep silence.

Stockdale sighed. ‘Poor girl!’ he said. ‘She’ll never get over something like this.’

‘I fancy that she will,’ argued Leeming. ‘Miss Kellow is stronger than she looks. I saw a glimpse of her willpower when she came to Scotland Yard. I think she’ll recover in time.’

‘I hope so, Sergeant. She’s shown a lot more dignity than Mrs Tomkins. Effie Kellow loses her only brother yet somehow bears up well. Winifred Tomkins loses a silver coffee pot and carries on as if she’s just had her arms and legs amputated with a blunt axe. When all’s said and done,’ he commented, ‘a stolen coffee pot can be replaced. You can never replace a dead brother.’

‘That’s true, Superintendent.’

‘She’s in good hands on that train. Idris Roberts has a daughter of his own. He’ll look after Miss Kellow.’

As the train vanished from sight, the two men headed towards the exit. While his sympathy was with Effie, his mind was on another young woman altogether.

‘I’d like to know more about Bridget,’ he said.

‘Who’s she?’

‘A friend of Hugh Kellow – a special friend, judging by what he said about her in a letter to his sister. She showed it to us this morning. Inspector Colbeck and I had the same reaction,’ he went on, ‘but we didn’t say anything to Miss Kellow, of course.’

‘Why not?’

‘It would only have alarmed her. If you ask me, the less she knows about the details of her brother’s murder, the better.’

‘I agree – but who is this Bridget?’

‘She could – just could, perhaps – be the person we’re after,’ said Leeming, thoughtfully. ‘Someone led Mr Kellow astray and persuaded him to go into that hotel. From everything we’ve heard about him, he’s not the sort of person to fall into the clutches of a woman who accosts him for the first time in the street. No, it would have to be someone he knew and thought he could trust.’

‘Do you believe this woman befriended him on purpose?’

‘It’s a possibility, Superintendent. She could have wormed her way into his affections. It may even be that they arranged to meet here at the hotel.’

‘But the room was booked by a young man.’

‘That must have been Bridget’s accomplice – Stephen Voke.’

‘Maybe,’ said Stockdale, unconvinced, ‘and maybe not. Do you know anything about this young woman?’

‘Nothing at all beyond her name,’ confessed Leeming.

‘So you could be spitting in the wind.’

‘We shall see.’

As they left the railway station, their attention was diverted by the roll of drums. Looking resplendent in their red uniforms, a small detachment of soldiers was marching in ranks towards St Mary Street accompanied by four drummers.

‘Recruiting officers,’ said Stockdale. ‘They’re after young men to send off to fight in the Crimea. I lost one of my
constables to them this week. I told him it was suicide but he was dazzled by the promise of glory. If the enemy don’t shoot him out there, he’ll die of fever.’

‘The war is happening such a long way away.’

‘Don’t you believe it, Sergeant. We very nearly had some of the action right here on our doorstep.’

‘How could that be?’

‘When the war first broke out,’ explained the other, ‘we had a Russian ship moored alongside a Turkish one in the East Dock. Back in the Crimea, of course, Russians and Turks were killing each other for the sheer love of it. I got word that the Turks were sharpening their scimitars and threatening to cut the Russians into thin slices.’

‘What did you do, Superintendent?’

‘I ordered the vessels to be berthed on opposite sides of the dock so that the crews weren’t looking into each others’ eyeballs any more. Then I made certain that the Russian ship left as soon as possible. To stop them from fighting each other at sea,’ Stockdale said, ‘I found an excuse to keep the Turks here for another three days.’

Leeming grinned. ‘That was clever of you,’ he said, admiringly. ‘It sounds as if you averted a nasty international incident.’

‘We do that all the time in Butetown. My men spend a lot of time keeping different nationalities apart. Last month a group of Spaniards started a fight in an opium den posing as a Chinese laundry. And there’s always trouble in the brothels when some foreign sailor decides he didn’t get what he paid his money for. Cardiff would be a much quieter place if only the Welsh lived here,’ he concluded, ‘but then it wouldn’t be
half as interesting. I’d hate a population made up entirely of people like Archelaus Pugh and Tegwyn Rees. They’re too religious and well-behaved for my liking. I need a bit of real danger to keep me on my toes. I daresay it’s the same with you, Sergeant.’

‘It is – and there’s always plenty of danger in London.’

‘I don’t want you to think the town is out of control,’ warned Stockdale, ‘because we rule the roost here. We raided eighty brothels last year – and you’d be surprised what we found in some of them,’ he said as the image of a nude Clifford Tomkins came into his mind. ‘Most of the people here are law-abiding or I’ll want to know the reason why. And we do have our choirs, concerts and plays. There’s always something to see. Talking of which,’ he added, ‘they had a great success at the Theatre Royal last night.’

‘Inspector Colbeck was hoping to go there one evening.’

‘Make sure that you go with him.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s a marvellous performance, from what I hear. Harry Probert, the Town Clerk, told me that he was thrilled by it – especially by Lady Macbeth. He said that he couldn’t keep his eyes off her.’ He laughed merrily. ‘Harry’s a lecherous old devil and he’s going to the play again tonight. He’s bought a seat in the front row so that he can ogle Miss Kate Linnane.’

Seated on the couch, Kate Linnane read the card then smiled before putting it aside. A number of admirers had sent her flowers and she was surrounded by them. As she picked up another card, there was a tap on the door.

‘Yes?’ she called.

‘Ah,’ said Nigel Buckmaster, opening the door. ‘It’s not locked this morning.’ He closed the door behind him. ‘It was different last night.’

‘I was very tired and needed my sleep.’

‘You could have at least let me bid you good night.’

‘I didn’t wish to see you.’

‘Is that so?’ he said, peevishly. ‘You changed your tune quickly. When I talked to Miss Evans at the reception after the play, you dragged me away from her like a jealous lover. Yet when we returned to the hotel, you barred the door against me.’

‘It had been a long day, Nigel. I was exhausted.’

‘So was I – we could have collapsed into each other’s arms.’

‘I was not in the mood.’

He mastered his irritation. ‘Very well, let’s leave it at that. I just trust that it won’t happen again.’ He glanced around. ‘You have quite a floral display in here.’

‘Certain gentlemen seem to have enjoyed my performance,’ she said, holding up the card. ‘This one is from the Town Clerk.’

‘I, too, had my admirers.’

‘Welsh women always have such a peculiarly bovine look to them,’ she said, tartly.

‘That’s not true of Carys Evans – she was radiant.’

‘I thought her rather dowdy.’

‘Is that why you pulled me so rudely away?’

‘I felt it was time to get back to the hotel.’

‘After a triumphant performance like that,’ he reminded her, ‘we usually celebrate. You were wont to be in a more
receptive mood hitherto. But,’ he said, holding up both hands, ‘I won’t dwell on that lapse. Let’s put it behind us, shall we? The important thing is that we conquered our audience. They will tell their friends and we can rely on full houses all week.’

‘The Town Clerk is coming to see us again tonight,’ she said as she put the card aside. ‘When I told him that we’d be performing
Hamlet
in Newport next month, he promised to come and see that as well – even though he was rather surprised.’

‘By what, pray?’

‘The fact that I’ll be playing Gertrude,’ she replied. ‘Mr Probert assumed that I’d be Ophelia. He said that I was far too young to play Hamlet’s mother whereas you were far too old to play the Prince.’

‘That’s nonsense!’ he cried, stung by the comment. ‘It’s my greatest role and it’s brought me acclaim all over the country. I expect to play Hamlet for at least another decade.’

‘At that age, you ought to be playing Claudius – if not Polonius.’

‘I need no advice about casting from you, Kate!’ he snarled. ‘I think you should remember what you were when you first came to my attention. You played non-speaking parts in that execrable touring company. I rescued you from that misery. I saw your true promise. I taught you the essence of the actor’s art. Within a year, you were playing Ophelia to my Hamlet.’

‘Yes,’ she said, pointedly, ‘a part that I’ve now yielded to Miss Tremaine. Where did you pluck that useless creature from, Nigel?’

‘Laura Tremaine has a talent.’

‘For what – it’s certainly not acting!’

He grinned wolfishly. ‘Do I detect a note of envy?’

‘I could never envy that empty-headed little baggage. Her Lady Macduff is ludicrous but it pales beside her appalling Ophelia. Be prepared, Nigel. When the audience in Newport realises that Ophelia has drowned herself, they’ll break into spontaneous applause.’

‘Let’s have more respect for a fellow-actress, please!’

‘Then cast one worthy of the name.’

‘A company must pull together, Kate.’

‘Spare me, please – I’ve heard that speech too many times.’

‘There’s no talking to when you’re in such a fevered state,’ he said, moving to the door. ‘I hope you’ll have come to your senses by the time we go on stage this evening – and when we get back here.’

‘Knock on someone else’s door,’ she advised, rising to her feet to strike a pose. ‘I daresay Miss Tremaine will leave hers unlocked for you. Lady Macduff would fawn at your feet.’

‘Stop it, Kate!’ he ordered.

‘Or perhaps Miss Carys Evans is more to your taste.’

‘I’ll have no more of it, do you understand? You’re acting like a dog in a manger –
you
may not want something yet you’re determined that nobody else will have it.’