The Silver Locomotive Mystery

a false name. I’ve also been thinking about those ransom letters sent to Mrs Tomkins. Two of them were written by a woman but the others – in block capitals – could just as easily have been penned by a man.’

‘What do you deduce from that, sir?’

‘I’m not sure. It worries me.’

‘Perhaps the young woman was not even in Cardiff at the time the last two letters were sent,’ observed Leeming. ‘The only person involved in the exchange was a man. He was operating alone.’

‘I doubt that,’ said Colbeck. ‘He’d have used his accomplice as a lookout. They’ve always been extremely careful in the past. We are up against people who take no chances.’

‘Then how do we catch them?’

‘We exploit their weakness.’

‘I didn’t know that they had one, sir.’

‘They do now, Victor,’ said Colbeck. ‘Their venture into crime is over. They committed murder and, with the keys stolen from their victim, they emptied Leonard Voke’s safe. They used the silver coffee pot cleverly to fleece Mrs Tomkins. Now that they’ve got what they want, they’ll have left Cardiff to begin a respectable new life. In short, they’ll think they got away with it. That’s their weak spot – they believe they’re completely safe.’

‘What about that carriage?’

‘You mean the one stolen from Mrs Tomkins?’

‘Yes, Inspector – it would bring in a tidy sum if they sold it along with the two horses.’

‘It would also arouse suspicion,’ said Colbeck, ‘and that will deter them. Stephen Voke, I fancy, does not look like someone who is a legitimate owner of a splendid carriage. There’s another thing to consider, Victor. Have you ever driven a vehicle with two horses between the shafts?’

‘I’m not stupid enough to try, sir. They’d be a handful.’

‘Mr Voke will be no coachman either. I think he only stole the carriage in order to buy time for his escape. At the rate she walks, it would have taken Mrs Tomkins some while to get home and report what happened. The villains might have left Cardiff by then.’

‘What will they have done with the carriage?’

‘Abandoned it, more than likely,’ said Colbeck. ‘It’s no use to them now. It would only get them noticed when they seek anonymity. No, it will turn up in due course.’

‘Where was it found?’ asked Clifford Tomkins, looking at the carriage.

‘A few miles from here,’ replied Stockdale. ‘It was standing beside a stream well away from the main road. The horses were cropping the grass. If it hadn’t been for a man who went fishing in that stream, the carriage might still be there.’

‘He deserves a reward.’

‘He’s already had it, sir. He was a poacher trespassing on private property. I overlooked that offence in return for the information he gave me.’

They were standing on the forecourt of the Tomkins’ residence. A policeman had driven the carriage there with the superintendent as his passenger. Stockdale seized on the offer of money.

‘You’re very fortunate to get it back in this condition, sir,’ he pointed out. ‘The horses could have been harmed and the carriage damaged. You’d have incurred a sizeable debt. Since you are minded to give a reward, might I suggest that a donation to the Borough Police Force is in order?’

‘You shall have it, Superintendent.’

‘Thank you, sir. We need money to fight crime.’

‘I think you’ve earned it.’

Tomkins was not speaking from a philanthropic impulse. The ironmaster was recalling Stockdale’s discretion with regard to his nocturnal antics in a brothel. That deserved recognition. They were still talking when Winifred Tomkins came out of the house.

‘We’ve got it back!’ she cried, coming over to them.

‘I’ll explain all the details later,’ said Tomkins.

‘That’s one load off my mind, Superintendent. We’ve had that carriage for years. One grows attached to things like that.’ She peered at it more closely. ‘Is it damaged in any way?’

‘No, Mrs Tomkins,’ said Stockdale. ‘We inspected it carefully. I suggest that you get your coachman to take it round to the stables. After all this time, the horses need to be unharnessed – they’re very restive, as you can see.’

‘I’ll organise that at once,’ said Tomkins, walking away.

‘Thank you so much, Superintendent,’ said Winifred. ‘I’ve been having nightmares about that carriage.’

‘I did promise that you’d get it back – and your money.’

‘Strictly speaking, it’s not mine any more.’

‘Oh?’

‘Clifford – my husband – came round to my point of view in the end. Since he commissioned the coffee pot as a gift, he accepted that he should bear any costs pertaining to it. He’s agreed to pay me every penny that I lost.’

Stockdale suppressed a grin. ‘That’s very handsome of him.’

‘Now that we have our carriage back, he can’t keep blaming me for losing it in the first place.’

‘You didn’t exactly lose it, Mrs Tomkins. It was taken from you by a man with a pistol. In those circumstances, your husband would have yielded up the carriage as well.’

‘That’s exactly what I told him.’

‘You’ll be able to sleep more soundly from now on.’

‘Oh, I will,’ she said with gratitude. ‘You saved us from so much embarrassment, Superintendent. What happened with respect to the coffee pot can be kept secret but we could not have hidden the fact that our carriage had been stolen. Tongues would have wagged. You know the kind of rumours that can spread.’

‘They’ve been nipped in the bud, Mrs Tomkins.’

He looked up to see her husband returning with the coachman and pointing to the carriage. Strutting along with his chest out and his stomach pulled in, Tomkins gave the impression that he had retrieved the vehicle in person. He snapped his fingers and the coachman took over, first patting the horses to calm them down then climbing up on to the seat to drive the carriage away.

‘I can see why you wanted it back,’ said Stockdale. ‘It’s a very comfortable ride.’

‘Far more comfortable than Lady Pryde’s phaeton,’ Winifred interjected. ‘I can assure you of that.’

‘I’ll have to take your word for it, Mrs Tomkins. I can’t envisage myself ever being invited to sit beside Lady Pryde.’

‘Then you should be grateful.’

‘What happens next, Superintendent?’ asked Tomkins. ‘When will you recover my money?’

‘More to the point,’ said his wife, ‘when will I finally have my silver coffee pot?’

‘I’m in no position to answer either of those questions,’ said Stockdale, ‘because I am no longer involved in the investigation. It’s moved outside Cardiff and thus out of my hands. Inspector Colbeck is pursuing the matter elsewhere. I have to confine myself to finding kidnapped actresses and recovering stolen carriages.’

Winifred’s brow creased. ‘Kidnapped actresses, you say?’

‘There was a slight problem with the theatre company, Mrs Tomkins, but it’s been resolved now. Mr Buckmaster was so grateful that he gave me several free tickets for Saturday’s performance. He was also kind enough to donate some money to us.’

‘But who was kidnapped?’

‘Nobody – it was all a misunderstanding.’

‘Well, the theft of that coffee pot was not a misunderstanding,’ said Tomkins, sulkily. ‘It’s cost me almost as much as the locomotive on which it was modelled. I hope that Inspector Colbeck realises that.’

The fugitives were not in Gloucester. That was established without any difficulty. After alighting at the railway station, Colbeck and Leeming walked to a silversmith near the centre of the city and asked him if he was expecting to have more competition in the area.