The Silver Locomotive Mystery (24 page)

BOOK: The Silver Locomotive Mystery
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She grinned. ‘That’s one thing you
don’t
need to tell me.’

They waited for five minutes before moving off. When they reached the big house that Leeming had mentioned, they paused. It was one of the most striking buildings in
the Quarter. Colbeck pretended to admire its Doric columns and simple architraves while Madeleine continued on down the street.

 

Hugh Kellow was having his first taste of work in his new abode. Crouched over a table in the little room next to the parlour, he examined the items he had stolen from Leonard Voke and wrote down their estimated value in his new account book. All of them would bring in a tidy profit and help to establish his reputation even though he had not actually made every piece in the collection. When he heard the doorbell ring, he looked up.

‘I’ll answer it!’ called Effie from the parlour.

‘Thank you,’ he replied, continuing his inventory.

As with all properties in the Quarter, attention had been paid to its security. Effie had to draw back two large bolts and turn the key in the lock before she could open the door. When she did so, she saw an attractive young woman standing at the doorstep.

‘Can I help you?’ asked Effie.

‘I saw that notice on the shutters,’ said Madeleine, injecting a note of humility into her voice. ‘You want a servant.’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘Could I have the details, please?’

‘We’re not offering accommodation,’ said Effie, enjoying the feeling of superiority she now had as an employer. ‘We simply need someone to come in each day to clean and help with the cooking.’

‘That would suit me, Mrs…’

‘Mrs Vernon. My husband is a silversmith. I should warn you that he hates being disturbed when he’s working. Whoever we employ would have to bear that in mind.’

‘I’ll do whatever I’m told, Mrs Vernon.’

‘You don’t sound as if you come from Birmingham.’

‘No,’ said Madeleine, inventing the details. ‘I was born in London but, when my father died, Mother and I moved here. We live with my aunt not far away so I’ve been looking for some time for work in the area.’ She glanced at the shutters. ‘The shop is not yet open, I see.’

‘No, we’ve only just moved in.’

‘Have you come far, Mrs Vernon?’

‘Far enough,’ replied Effie, guardedly. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Madeleine Andrews.’

‘Have you been in service before, Miss Andrews?’

‘I worked as a parlour maid in London.’

‘Which part of London?’

‘How well do you know the city, Mrs Vernon?’

‘I know it well enough.’

‘I worked in a house near Piccadilly for some years,’ said Madeleine, sensing that she might well be talking to Effie. ‘I only left there when Father died and we had to move. My mother was born in Birmingham and she’d always wanted to come back here one day.’

‘I see.’

‘My parents had a little house in Camden but it had too many sad memories for Mother. She had to leave so I gave in my notice. I’m not afraid of hard work, I can tell you that.’

‘Good.’

‘Which part of London did you live in, Mrs Vernon?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Do you know Camden at all?’

Effie was abrupt. ‘I’ll have to discuss this with my husband.’

‘Is he at home at the moment?’

‘Yes, but he’s very busy. I can’t bother him now.’ She looked Madeleine up and down. ‘Can you give me an address where we can reach you?’

‘I can always come back tomorrow, if you like,’ Madeleine offered. ‘You’ll have had time to talk to your husband by then.’

Effie’s manner changed. ‘There’s no need for that, Miss Andrews,’ she said, dismissively. ‘I can see that you’re not really suitable for us. Good day to you.’

Giving her a cold smile, Effie closed the door and locked it before Madeleine had time to give any signal. Effie ran along the passageway to the workroom and burst in.

‘I’m worried, Hugh,’ she said, glancing over her shoulder.

‘Why – who was it?’

‘It was a young woman called Miss Andrews. She said that she’s come about the advertisement but she didn’t look like a servant to me. Then there was the other thing.’

He got to his feet. ‘What other thing?’

‘She asked too many questions. She wanted to know where I’d lived in London and if you were at home. There was something odd about her, Hugh.’

‘Which way did she go?’

‘I didn’t see – I shut the door in her face.’

‘There’s nothing to be alarmed about,’ he told her, putting
a hand under her chin and brushing her lips with his own. ‘Nobody knows we’re here and they never will.’

‘I’d feel a lot safer if you take a look at her.’

‘Very well – but she’s probably gone by now!’

Going to the door, he unlocked it and stepped out into the street. Effie went after him. Several people were walking past in both directions but it was the man and the woman conversing a little distance away who interested him.

‘Is that her, Effie?’ he asked, pointing.

‘Yes,’ she said, starting to panic. ‘And I know the man’s she’s talking to – it’s Inspector Colbeck. They’ve found us, Hugh!’

He was horrified. ‘How
could
they?’

‘What do we do?’

‘Get back inside quickly.’

They darted back into the house as Colbeck started to run towards them. Pushing home the bolts, Kellow locked the door then ran up the stairs to retrieve his pistol. He thrust it into his belt. Effie, meanwhile, was grabbing her coat and hat. Kellow pounded down the stairs, unlocked the safe and reached in to take out large wads of banknotes. He stuffed some into his pockets and handed the rest to Effie. They could hear Colbeck ringing the bell and banging on the door. There was no time to waste. Kellow opened the back door and led Effie into the little garden. When they reached the fence, he bent down and hoisted her up without ceremony, hoping that she would climb over to the lane beyond. Instead she let out a loud screech. Waiting for her on the other side of the fence was Victor Leeming.

‘Hello, Effie,’ he said, raising his hat, ‘remember me?’

* * *

After failing to break open the door with his shoulder, Colbeck turned his attention to the shutters. There was a small gap between them that allowed him to take a firm grip on the timber with both hands. Putting one foot against the wall, he pulled hard. The shutters began to creak and splinter then, as he gave one final heave, the lock burst and they flapped open like the wings of some gigantic bird. Colbeck did not hesitate. Whisking off his hat, he used it to protect his face from the shards that flew everywhere when he kicked in the shop window. The noise brought people running. Madeleine was part of a gathering crowd that watched him clamber into the property.

Colbeck cut his hand in the process but ignored the pain and the trickle of blood. He looked into the empty workroom then went on into the parlour. Through the window, he could see into the back garden. Victor Leeming had climbed over the fence and was being held at gunpoint by Hugh Kellow who had one arm around Effie. The couple were backing towards the house. Colbeck was unarmed but he saw something that might offer him some protection. It was the silver coffee pot, gleaming proudly on the sideboard. He picked it up, went into the kitchen and out into the garden.

‘Good afternoon, Mr Vernon,’ he said smoothly, causing both Kellow and Effie to swing round in alarm. ‘I’ve just been admiring the locomotive you made when your name was Hugh Kellow.’

‘Put that down!’ snarled Kellow, waving the pistol at him.

‘You wouldn’t dare fire at me, sir, surely? There’s a good chance you might hit this coffee pot and damage the silver.
You don’t want that to happen, do you? Consider something else. The bullet could ricochet off anywhere. It might even kill one of you.’

‘Stay back!’ ordered Kellow, then he turned to face Leeming who had been creeping forward. ‘That goes for you as well.’

Leeming held his ground. ‘You can’t shoot both of us with a single bullet, sir, and you’d never have time to reload.’

‘Besides,’ said Colbeck, ‘there’s been enough killing already. Mr Henley was not your only victim.’

Effie was aghast. ‘How do you know about Martin?’

‘We know far more than you think, Miss Haggs,’ he told her. ‘We know, for instance, that when you’d been to London with Constable Roberts, you didn’t take a cab to Mayfair. You went straight back to Cardiff to act as an accomplice. But there’s something that
you
ought to know as well. Indirectly, Mr Kellow caused another death. Leonard Voke committed suicide.’

‘Is that true?’ asked Kellow with a half-smile.

‘The sergeant and I found him earlier today. He shot himself with an old musket. Mr Voke had nothing to live for without his son and his former assistant.’

‘Well, don’t expect
me
to feel sorry for him!’

‘I don’t, sir,’ said Colbeck with aplomb. ‘You’ll be too busy feeling sorry for yourself in a condemned cell. Now why don’t you put that pistol aside before someone gets hurt?’

‘It will be one of you,’ warned Kellow, aiming the pistol at each of them in turn. ‘Move out of the way, Inspector.’

‘I’m sorry but I can’t allow you to do that, sir.’

‘Move out of the way or I’ll shoot. I
mean
it,’ said Kellow
with desperation. ‘We’re leaving by the front door.’

‘Then you might want to take this with you,’ said Colbeck.

He tossed the coffee pot to Kellow who instinctively caught it. Colbeck dived forward to grab the pistol and turn its barrel away so that the bullet went harmlessly up into the air when the gun went off. Leeming, meanwhile, grappled with Effie. Though she screamed, struggled and tried to bite his hand, she was soon overpowered and handcuffed. Hugh Kellow put up more of a fight. Pushing Colbeck away, he dropped the coffee pot and tried to use the butt of the pistol on the detective’s head. Colbeck ducked out of the way and flung himself at the man’s legs. Kellow was brought crashing to the ground.

The two men rolled over on the grass with Effie yelling at the top of her voice and trying to kick out at Colbeck as he finished up on top. Lifting her up, Leeming carried her yards away from the brawl. Kellow did not give in easily. Driven into frenzy by the thought of execution, he fought like a demon. Colbeck managed to knock the pistol out of his grasp but he had to take several punches to his face and body. With a supreme effort, Kellow flung him sideways then rolled over on top of him, spitting into his eyes then trying to gouge them with his fingers. Colbeck responded with a solid punch to the nose and felt Kellow’s blood dribbling over his face. The two men flailed around on the grass, neither of them giving any quarter. They grappled, twisted, pushed, pulled, squeezed and traded punches.

There was a point when Leeming thought he might have to intervene but it quickly passed. Colbeck was far too strong
and experienced. In the course of his career as a detective, he had had to make many arrests of violent men. It had built up his stamina. Though the silversmith was fighting to save his life, he was no match for Colbeck. His strength at last began to fade. In a last bid to escape, he tried to get up and run away but his legs were scythed from beneath him by Colbeck’s foot. Kellow fell headfirst on to the grass. Before he could move, he felt a knee in his back and a pair of handcuffs being snapped on to his wrists. Bruised, dishevelled and with his frock coat torn, Colbeck stood up and hauled his prisoner to his feet. Kellow was breathless and exhausted. Effie was weeping.

Colbeck bent down to pick up the silver coffee pot and brush away some specks of dirt. He inspected it carefully all over.

‘It’s in perfect condition,’ he said, approvingly. ‘It will go to its proper home at long last.’

 

The two prisoners were given a temporary home in the police station nearby. While Effie and Kellow had their first experience of being locked up, Colbeck cleaned the blood from his face and brushed some of the dirt from his coat. Two policemen were sent off to secure the property bought by Kellow so that nothing could be stolen. Leeming had the coffee pot locomotive in a leather bag. He was puzzled when Colbeck asked him to wait at the police station.

‘But we have to take the prisoners back to London, sir,’ argued Leeming, eager to relay word of their triumph to Edward Tallis.

‘All in good time,’ said Colbeck.

‘Where are you going?’

‘I have some business to take care of, Victor.’

‘Shall I come with you?’

‘I think not. This is an expedition that can only ever involve two people. You’d be highly embarrassed and feel that you were in the way. We’ll not be long.’

‘As you wish, sir,’ said Leeming, wondering what he meant.

Colbeck went through into the outer office where Madeleine was talking to the desk sergeant. She was surprised that he was alone.

‘What about your prisoners?’ she asked.

‘They can wait.’

‘Why the delay?’

‘Let’s step outside,’ he suggested, ‘and I’ll explain.’

Colbeck took her out and surveyed the streets facing them. He was irritated by the tear in his coat but, since it was under his arm, it was not very noticeable. It certainly would not prevent him from taking what would be an extremely important walk. Madeleine was still bewildered.

‘What about the sergeant?’

‘Victor can cool his heels while we take a stroll.’

‘Where are we going, Robert?’

‘We’re going to take advantage of a unique opportunity,’ he said, holding her hands. ‘It seems perverse to come to a Jewellery Quarter without buying some jewellery. I thought that we might look in a few windows.’

‘Why?’

He smiled at her. ‘Why else?’

Madeleine could not believe what she was hearing. It
made her head spin. As his smile broadened into a grin, her heart began to pound and she felt unsteady on her feet. Standing outside a police station in Birmingham seemed the most unlikely place for her to receive a proposal of marriage. Yet, in another sense, it was highly appropriate. She knew that Colbeck was wholly committed to his work as a detective and that any wife of his would have to accept that. Madeleine was happy to do so. She loved him enough to take him on any terms. Yet she was still troubled by uncertainty.

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