The Silver Locomotive Mystery irc-6

by Edward Marston

  ‘What am I looking for, sir?’

  ‘Keep your eyes peeled for houses or shops with new owners. I’m told there are some. In fact, the sergeant offered to show me some of them but I said we’d find our own way. The sight of a police uniform would warn them.’

  ‘Very good, Inspector,’ said Leeming, moving away. ‘I’ll be off.’

  ‘I still don’t know why you brought me, Robert,’ said Madeleine.

  ‘You’re much nicer to look at than Victor,’ he joked, folding up the map. ‘No, Madeleine, I’m hoping to use you as cover. Effie knows what I look like. If she looks out of a shop window and spots me, she’ll be on the defensive at once. With you beside me,’ he explained, offering his arm, ‘I won’t get a second glance.’

  ‘Are you convinced that they’re here?’

  ‘Not at all – this is something of a gamble.’

  ‘Then it could be a wasted journey?’

  ‘No journey in your company is wasted, Madeleine,’ he said with a grin. ‘In any case, I did take advice before we left London. I called on Solomon Stern, the jeweller for whom Stephen Voke once worked. I asked him the most likely place where a young silversmith might want to set up shop – especially if he had unlimited funds. Mr Stern had no hesitation in suggesting Birmingham.’

  ‘I do hope that he’s right.’

  ‘There’s only one way to find out.’

  They set off down Warstone Lane, passing narrow alleys and row upon row of small workshops. Madeleine had never seen so many people crammed into a relatively compact area. There seemed to be thousands of them, men and women, all engaged in some aspect of the jewellery trade, their workplaces ranging from a tiny back room to a factory. There was constant traffic in the streets and a sense of urgency in the pedestrians who darted past. Fascinated by the Jewellery Quarter, Madeleine tried to ignore its stench.

  ‘It’s almost like being in a foreign country,’ she observed.

  ‘Then it’s a very rich one,’ said Colbeck. ‘We’re in the middle of a miniature empire of gold, silver and precious stones.’

  ‘I’ll keep my fingers crossed that Mr Kellow is here.’

  ‘He must be, Madeleine. It’s where I’d be in his shoes.’

  Strolling arm in arm, they turned into Vittoria Street. Colbeck’s eyes missed nothing. He spoke to people standing outside their premises, making casual enquiries that made him sound like a man in search of friends rather than a detective on the trail of criminals. It took them some time to work their way to the end of the street but they were assured of one thing. Under whatever names they were now using, Kellow and Effie were definitely not there. Turning right into Graham Street, they walked on until Leeming hurried towards them.

  ‘Did you have any luck, sir?’ he asked.

  ‘No, Victor – what about you?’

  ‘There’s one possibility. It’s a small shop halfway down the street. I spoke to an engraver who works almost opposite and he told me that a young man and his wife had just moved in.’

  ‘Did he know their names?’

  ‘Mr and Mrs Vernon,’ said Leeming. ‘They’ve only been there two minutes. There are shutters on the shop window with a notice pinned to them.’

  ‘What sort of notice?’ said Colbeck.

  ‘They’re advertising for a servant.’

  ‘That’s interesting. They’re settling in.’

  Madeleine could see what was running through Colbeck’s mind. When he turned inquisitively to her, she responded with a smile.

  ‘You want me to apply for the job, don’t you?’ she said.

  ‘I’m not sure that you could pass for a servant,’ he replied. ‘You look far too smart and well-bred.’

  ‘I don’t feel smart, Robert. I’m happy to do it.’

  ‘Some servants are very well-dressed,’ said Leeming. ‘Look at the one we met at Mr Dalrymple’s house. If you saw her in the street, you’d take her for a member of the family.’

  ‘Besides,’ said Madeleine, ‘it’s not as if I’m really after the job. I simply want to see who is on the other side of the door.’

  Colbeck made the decision. ‘Thank you,’ he said, touching her arm in gratitude. ‘It’s very good of you to volunteer. With the best will in the world, neither Victor nor I could pass as domestics. But please be careful, Madeleine. Hugh Kellow and Effie may not be there, of course, and the trail will go dead. But if by chance he is, remember that he’s a ruthless criminal. Just talk on the doorstep. Don’t go inside. If you get invited into the shop and they start to probe, you could be in danger.’

  ‘What do I say?’

  ‘Simply that you’ve seen the advertisement and would like to know what the job involves and what sort of wage is being offered.’

  ‘I think I can manage that.’

  Madeleine was thrilled to be part of the investigation at last. Having been kept on the outside for so long, she had now been brought into action. It showed how much faith Colbeck had in her. Though she knew that she might be confronting someone who had committed heinous crimes, she was not afraid. Colbeck and Leeming would not be far away and there were plenty of other people about. That gave her confidence.

  The three of them walked to the end of Frederick Street.

  ‘It’s on the left,’ said Leeming, pointing a finger. ‘Go past that big house with the columns outside and you’ll find smaller properties. One of them is a plating workshop. Next to it is a place with the shutters closed. I didn’t get the number, I’m afraid.’

  ‘I’ll find it,’ she said.

  ‘Let’s be prepared,’ said Colbeck. ‘We may be barking up the wrong tree, I know, but let’s assume we’re not. We need to cut off every means of escape.’

  ‘Do you want me to guard the rear of the premises, sir?’ said Leeming. ‘You’ll have to give me time to get in position.’

  ‘Off you go, then, Victor.’ As Leeming hurried away, he took Madeleine by the shoulders. ‘I hope your father will forgive me.’

  ‘There’s nothing to forgive, Robert.’

  ‘Isn’t there? I take you off as his daughter and return you as a domestic servant.’

  She laughed. ‘Father won’t turn a hair,’ she said. ‘We do have a servant who comes in to help but otherwise I do the household chores. Father sometimes treats me more or less as a domestic servant so I know what it feels like.’ Her eyes widened earnestly. ‘Besides, I’d do anything to help you, Robert. You must know that.’

  She spoke with such affection and looked at him so longingly that he wanted to wrap her in his arms and hold her tight. Colbeck had never loved her more than at that moment. Madeleine Andrews had willingly assisted him in an investigation a number of times, never questioning his decisions and always achieving valuable results on his behalf. Her involvement in his work had brought them closer and closer. Colbeck had to suppress an urge to tell her how much she meant to him and how important she was in his life. But it was not the moment for such confidences. Duty called. There was a strong possibility that they had finally caught up with a killer and his accomplice. Colbeck needed to direct all of his energies at them.

  Madeleine had watched him carefully.

  ‘Were you going to say something?’ she asked.

  ‘It will have to wait.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Never mind that – just trust me.’

  ‘I always do, Robert.’

  He nodded in gratitude. ‘Let me give you your instructions.’

  Colbeck told her exactly what to look for when the door was opened to her. Madeleine was to find out where the newcomers had come from and why they had moved to Birmingham. She had a clear description of Effie and of Hugh Kellow in her head. If neither of them was there, she was to make a polite excuse and withdraw. If, on the other hand, her suspicions were aroused in any way, Madeleine was told to adjust her hat. That was the signal for Colbeck to move in.

  ‘Remember that your safety is paramount,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘Yes, Robert.’<
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  ‘Mr Kellow has a pistol. He won’t need much encouragement to use it. At the slightest hint of trouble, walk quickly away.’

  ‘I will.’

  He held her hands. ‘How do you feel?’

  ‘I’m quite excited.’

  ‘Try to look more deferential. Nobody is excited by housework.’

  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 l
ocomotive 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.