The Silver Locomotive Mystery irc-6

by Edward Marston

  ‘So he brought no young men to the house?’

  ‘None at all, sir – the only person who ever came for him was a young lady.’

  ‘Do you know her name?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. She never actually knocked on the door. She would simply appear on the pavement opposite and Mr Voke would go off with her. Female visitors are not allowed in our lodgers’ rooms,’ said Meyrick, sternly. ‘My wife is very particular on that score. Her father is a clergyman and inculcated the highest moral standards in her. My instincts accord with hers. It’s something that all our lodgers must accept if they wish to stay under our roof.’

  ‘I commend that wholeheartedly,’ said Tallis, warming to the man. ‘There are far too many landlords who allow unmarried couples to cohabit on their premises and who permit all kinds of licence. It is sinful, Mr Meyrick. They are actually encouraging indecency. I’m pleased to hear that you and Mrs Meyrick are more discriminating.’

  ‘It’s a matter of conscience to us, Superintendent.’

  ‘Then I applaud you. Coming back to this young lady,’ he went on, ‘how would you describe her?’

  ‘I only saw her on a few occasions and always through the window, of course. She was well-dressed and looked respectable to me. I thought her attractive and agreeably wholesome.’

  ‘Did she and Mr Voke seem like close friends?’

  ‘Oh, yes – she always took his arm as they walked away.’

  ‘Is there anything else you can remember about her?’

  ‘Only my wife’s observation,’ said Meyrick, ‘and she has sharper eyes for such things.’

  ‘What sort of things?’

  ‘Age and class, sir. She felt that the young lady was a little older than Mr Voke and came from a higher station in life. For all that, they seemed well-suited.’

  ‘When did he actually leave your house?’

  ‘Last Saturday – a cab came to pick him up at the door. I helped him to carry down his luggage. Mr Voke was very grateful. He thanked us for looking after him so well.’

  ‘Do you know where the cab was taking him?’

  ‘Yes, Superintendent,’ said Meyrick, ‘I heard him tell the driver to take him to Paddington Station. He was leaving London altogether.’

  On his way back to the hotel, Colbeck called in at the police station to keep Stockdale informed of the latest developments. When he heard of the reaction to the latest ransom demand, the superintendent was very impressed.

  ‘Winifred Tomkins is a braver woman than I took her for,’ he said with mild astonishment. ‘I’m not surprised that her husband refused to provide the money even though he could afford to pay fifty times that amount and not miss it. It’s the wife that I admire. There are not many women who would take such a risk.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Colbeck, ‘and that was before Mrs Tomkins knew that I intended to hide in the carriage with her. She will not be entirely unprotected.’

  ‘How was the situation left?’

  ‘According to that letter, the exchange will not take place until twilight. That gives them the best part of a day to decide what they’re going to do. Mr Tomkins will try to talk his wife out of what he sees as an act of madness while she, I suspect, will hold firm.’

  ‘Even if it means that she has to pay the ransom money herself?’

  ‘Appear to pay it,’ corrected Colbeck. ‘Mrs Tomkins must look as if she’s obeying the instructions. As well as keeping her from any harm, I hope to retrieve both her money and her coffee pot.’

  ‘We’ll catch them this time,’ said Stockdale, confidently. ‘I feel it in my bones. It’s a pity that the sergeant won’t be here to enjoy the moment.’

  ‘What Victor needs to enjoy is the comfort of his wife and family. That’s why I put him on the train back to London this morning. He’ll have to give a full report to Superintendent Tallis, of course, but he’ll be able to sleep in his own bed tonight. That’s important to Victor.’

  ‘The love of a good woman is important to any man.’

  ‘Too true,’ said Colbeck, thinking of Madeleine Andrews.

  ‘Yet you’ve remained single, Inspector.’

  ‘Yes, I have.’

  ‘It can’t be for want of opportunities,’ said Stockdale with grin. ‘Even someone as ugly as me has caused the odd female heart to beat faster. A handsome fellow like you could pick and choose.’

  ‘At the moment, I choose to devote all my energies to my work,’ said Colbeck, crisply, ‘and I know that you’re as keen as I am to solve this particular case.’

  ‘I am, Inspector, but these villains are proving devilishly hard to find. They must be in Cardiff somewhere,’ he said, ‘yet we’ve drawn a blank in all the hotels and boarding houses. There’s no sign of them. My men have looked into every nook and cranny.’

  ‘They’ve been searching for a man and woman but the chances are that the pair of them split up to avoid detection. They’ll only get back together again when they’re ready to seize the ransom money. And as we’ve discussed before,’ said Colbeck, ‘it could be that the woman in question actually lives in the town.’

  ‘Miss Carys Evans.’

  ‘We must keep watch on her, Superintendent.’

  ‘I’ve been doing just that,’ Stockdale told him. ‘I paid her a call this very morning. I told her that we’d become aware of the fact that she was in the hotel at roughly the time of the murder and asked her if she saw anything unusual while she was there. Miss Evans said that she did not.’

  ‘Did she explain what she was doing at the hotel?’

  ‘She was visiting a friend though she refused to give me a name. It could, as we speculated, simply have been Sir David Pryde. From the way that she rebuffed my question, however, I felt that it was not him. It may not even have been a man, of course.’

  ‘Then why was she so evasive?’

  ‘That’s in her nature, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Colbeck, ‘I noticed that about her.’

  ‘Miss Evans did admit one thing of interest.’

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘She actually visited Mr Voke’s shop in London. She went there on the recommendation of a friend – the same one, no doubt, who recommended the silversmith to Mrs Tomkins.’

  ‘Sir David Pryde.’

  ‘Surely, he can’t be involved in these crimes.’

  Colbeck had no time to reply. Someone rapped on the door then it opened to disclose the figure of a burly uniformed sergeant. He told the superintendent that someone was demanding to see him.

  ‘Who is it?’ asked Stockdale.

  ‘That actor from the Theatre Royal, sir,’ said the man. ‘He seems very upset.’

  Colbeck’s curiosity was aroused. He followed the superintendent through into the outer office where a distracted Nigel Buckmaster was pacing restlessly up and down. When he saw Colbeck, the actor rushed impulsively forward to grab him by the shoulders.

  ‘You must help me, Inspector!’ he cried, shaking him. ‘We are facing calamity – Miss Linnane has been abducted.’

  * * *

  It was a new weapon and it was used to great effect. During their long marriage, Winifred Tomkins had always got her way either by nagging her husband incessantly or resorting to a fit of temper. He had usually bowed to her will. She deployed none of her customary tactics now. Retreating into silence, she simply ignored him. Clifford Tomkins did not know how to cope with such treatment. He reasoned, he shouted, he threatened and he even pleaded but all in vain. Her mind was made up and nothing could dissuade her. As she was putting on her coat to leave the house, he made one last intervention.

  ‘This is insane, Winifred!’ he cried.

  ‘Out of my way, please,’ she said, coolly.

  ‘The bank manager will tell you the same thing.’

  ‘It’s my money and I can do what I wish with it.’

  ‘Before he’ll sanction it, he’ll want to know why you’re withdrawing such a large amount of capital at short notice
.’

  ‘Then I’ll tell him the truth,’ she replied. ‘The money is to meet an emergency and my husband has declined to help me.’

  Tomkins flushed. ‘Think how that will make me look!’

  ‘It makes you look like the miserly and unloving husband that you are, Clifford.’

  ‘Now that’s unfair!’

  ‘When I really need you, I’m badly let down.’

  ‘Everything I own is at your disposal,’ he said, recklessly, ‘as long as it’s for a worthy purpose, that is. In this case, you’re proposing to throw away a large sum on a whim and it’s my duty to stop you.’

  ‘It’s your duty to support me,’ she snapped. ‘Were Lady Pryde in this position, I’m sure that Sir David would come to her aid without any delay or prevarication.’

  ‘That’s a false comparison and you know it. Lady Pryde would never dare to risk her life for a silver coffee pot.’

  ‘You heard what Inspector Colbeck told you – the exchange must go ahead.’

  ‘That’s only because he expects to catch the villain when it takes place. His priority is to safeguard you. I’m not sure that he can.’

  ‘You saw what that letter said. On no account must the police be involved at all. Remember what happened to Sergeant Leeming. It will be far easier if I just hand over the money and get what I want.’

  ‘At three times its original price!’ he exclaimed.

  ‘It would be worth it, Clifford.’

  ‘That coffee pot was supposed to be a gift from me.’

  ‘You seem to have forgotten that,’ she said, icily. ‘When I visit the bank, I will be withdrawing enough money to reimburse you for your loss. That way I’ll have paid the full price for it so it will be truly mine. You’ll have no cause to harass me then.’

  ‘I’m not harassing you.’

  ‘Then please step out of my way.’

  ‘At least, talk this over sensibly.’

  ‘You’re incapable of understanding my point of view.’

  ‘I’m trying to stop you doing something you’ll afterwards regret.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ she said, nostrils flaring. ‘What I regret is that I believed you’d stand by me in a situation like this. We are not really talking about a silver coffee pot, Clifford. Much more is at issue here. The whole basis of our marriage has been rocked. When I look for your uncritical support in a crisis, I find you wanting. Goodbye.’

  Sweeping past him, she went into the hall and headed for the front door. The butler was at hand to open it for her and give an obsequious bow. The phaeton stood ready outside. Winifred was about to walk across to it when she noticed a letter on the doormat in the porch. Written across it in bold capitals was her name.

  It took Colbeck several minutes to calm the actor down so that he could relate the facts of the case. Taken into Stockdale’s office, Nigel Buckmaster went through his full range of dramatic gestures. He explained that he had gone to Kate Linnane’s room to take her down to a late breakfast, only to find the door wide open and the room in disarray. Buckmaster reported his findings to the manager and Pugh had immediately questioned his staff. A waiter remembered seeing a woman being hustled down the back stairs by a man in a cloak. One of the cooks had seen the couple leaving by the rear entrance. Both of the witnesses agreed that the woman had looked in distress.

  ‘Kate has been kidnapped!’ howled Buckmaster.

  ‘It certainly looks that way,’ said Colbeck, ‘though I wonder that she didn’t cry for help as she was taken past those witnesses.’

  ‘Some kind of weapon must have been held on her under the man’s cloak – a knife, perhaps, even a pistol.’

  ‘Who could want to do such a thing?’ asked Stockdale. ‘I’m sure that she has many admirers but they’d hardly go to those lengths.’

  ‘I don’t think we’re looking for someone who reveres Kate,’ said Buckmaster, ‘but a rival who detests and envies me. He’s determined to wreck my company because it’s had such resounding success. What lies behind this crime is artistic jealousy of the worst kind.’

  ‘That’s one possible explanation,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘What other one is there, Inspector?’

  ‘The answer to that must lie in Miss Linnane’s private life, sir. She’s a very beautiful woman. Has there been an entanglement in her past that left someone feeling vengeful towards her?’

  Buckmaster was peremptory. ‘There’s been no such thing.’

  ‘How can you be so certain?’

  ‘Kate has no secrets from me.’

  ‘Then she’s unlike any woman I’ve known,’ said Stockdale with a dry laugh. ‘Women are secretive creatures – it adds to their allure.’

  ‘I’m not interested in your opinions, Superintendent,’ said the actor, treating him to a glare. ‘Kate Linnane has been my leading lady for some years now and the trust between us is complete. If there had been any dark shadows in her past, she would surely have told me about them.’

  Colbeck remembered the figure he had seen flitting into Kate’s room earlier that week. It had obviously not been Buckmaster or there would have been no need for stealth. Colbeck sensed that she had not felt obliged to tell the actor-manager about her furtive caller. What else had she decided not to confide?

  ‘Kate’s safety is paramount, of course,’ said Buckmaster, ‘but the fate of the whole company now hangs in the balance. We have a full house for this evening’s performance. It will be a catastrophe if we have to cancel it. The damage to my reputation will be irreparable.’

  ‘We’ll do our best to find the lady,’ promised Stockdale. ‘Any woman as striking as Miss Linnane will surely have been seen after she left the hotel. I’ll organise a search for her at once, sir.’

  ‘Thank you.’ As Stockdale went out, the actor turned to Colbeck. ‘I was hoping that you’d take charge of the case, Inspector.’

  ‘I already have my hands full, Mr Buckmaster.’

  ‘This could prove disastrous for us.’

  ‘I sympathise with you,’ said Colbeck with unfeigned sincerity. ‘Accounts of Miss Linnane’s performance have been uniformly glowing. It’s been a source of great annoyance to me that I’ve been unable to see the two of you in Macbeth. Unfortunately,’ he went on, ‘I have no jurisdiction beyond the case that brought me to Cardiff. The superintendent is responsible for law-enforcement in the town and he is known for his tenacity. There is one crumb of comfort, however.’

  ‘I fail to see it.’

  ‘When she was taken from the hotel, Miss Linnane was apparently unharmed. If someone had meant to injure her in order to prevent her from appearing onstage, they could have done that in her room. I would expect her to be found in good health.’

  ‘And when will that be?’

  ‘I trust that it will be in the very near future.’

  ‘I need Kate now,’ insisted Buckmaster. ‘She is more than just our leading lady, Inspector, she is our good luck charm. Without her, we face potential ruin.’

  ‘I think you exaggerate a little, sir.’

  ‘She’s a vital part of the company.’

  ‘That goes without saying,’ conceded Colbeck, ‘but you would not have had such continuous success in your profession if you had cancelled a performance because someone was indisposed. For a role like Lady Macbeth, you must surely have an understudy.’

  ‘I do and I do not,’ said Buckmaster, uneasily. ‘There is someone who could step into Kate’s shoes but she’s young and untried. What if she lets us down? How can I scale the heights if I am held back by a Lady Macbeth who is floundering in the part?’

  ‘Would the understudy happen to be Miss Tremaine?’

  Buckmaster blinked. ‘How did you know that?’

  ‘I had the good fortune to meet the young lady when she gave me a playbill in the street,’ said Colbeck, smiling at the memory. ‘I was taken with her patent dedication. To lose Miss Linnane in this manner is very troubling but your predicament may not be as serious as you fear. I have a feel
ing that Miss Tremaine will rise to the occasion.’

  Laura Tremaine was torn between delight and quiet terror. The message had simply told her to come at once to the actor-manager’s hotel for a rehearsal of her role as an understudy. The thought that she might actually play Lady Macbeth opposite Nigel Buckmaster gave her a dizzying thrill. It was beyond anything she had ever dreamt about, expecting to occupy lesser parts for many years before even being considered for a leading role. Yet it now seemed possible. There had been no explanation as to why Kate Linnane was unable to repeat her triumph that evening but Laura knew that she would never yield up a part lightly, especially to someone she openly despised. She tried to put the other actress from her mind. Kate’s loss was Laura’s gain. She needed to seize the unexpected chance of greatness.

  With opportunity, however, came fear and uncertainty. Was she ready? Did she have enough talent to be an adequate substitute for such an experienced actress? Would she let everyone down? Could she remember the lines and repeat the correct moves? She had watched Kate Linnane play the part often enough but that was not the same as taking it on herself. Would Laura Tremaine – whatever her fantasies about theatrical glory– be able to hold her own against a titan of the stage like Nigel Buckmaster? The challenge was both exhilarating and daunting. She would not simply be fulfilling her ambition of taking a leading role, she would be doing so as one of the most famous wives in world drama. In the course of that evening, pretty, young, shapely, well-spoken, respectable Laura Tremaine had to undergo a veritable transformation. Shedding the sweetness of Lady Macduff, she had to turn herself into a murderous fiend.

  As she sat patiently in the hotel foyer, she felt the sheer weight of expectation. The whole company would depend on her. Her friends would will her to succeed while her enemies – and she had one or two in the company – would pray for her to fail. Every move she made and every gesture she gave would be subjected to intense scrutiny. And what would happen when Kate Linnane came back to reclaim her rightful role? However well she had played it, Laura would get neither thanks nor praise. Once the imperious leading lady had returned, her understudy would have to slink back into obscurity. It was a thought that made Laura resolve to make the most of her opportunity. She would play Lady Macbeth as if the part had been expressly written for her.