The Silver Locomotive Mystery

like to throttle him, so help me God!’

‘Leave that duty to the public executioner.’

‘Do you know where he is, Superintendent?’

‘No, but we soon shall. He and his “sister” will be apprehended in the not too distant future.’

‘I want to see him when you catch him.’

‘Let justice take its course, Mr Voke.’

‘I deserve the right to get at him for two minutes.’

‘I can understand your feelings,’ said Tallis, ‘but you are letting your fury blind you to the obvious. Hugh Kellow is a young man with blood already on his hands. You are more advanced in years. It’s foolhardy to think that you could overpower him. No,’ he went on, ‘leave Mr Kellow to my detectives. Inspector Colbeck will find him.’

Robert Colbeck arrived at the house in Camden in time to act as an arbitrator. Having eaten supper with her father, Madeleine Andrews had cleared the table and washed the plates. When she came into the parlour, she found her father puffing on his pipe as he read Dombey and Son. There was a mild argument over the book. Madeleine wanted it back but Caleb Andrews refused to yield it up. Colbeck walked in on the domestic disagreement.

‘Tell him, Robert,’ said Madeleine, quick to enlist his aid. ‘You gave that book to me, didn’t you?’

‘’Yes,’ he replied, ‘but your father is welcome to read it as well.’

‘There you are!’ said Andrews with a cackle.

‘Though I’d assumed he’d have enough patience to wait until you’d read it first, Madeleine.’

‘Father just grabbed it when my back was turned.’

‘It’s your own fault, Maddy,’ Andrews pointed out. ‘You told me how wonderful the book was. I wanted to see what it says about Camden. I was here when the railway line was built. I remember the deafening noise and the terrible upset it caused.’

‘You’re the one causing the terrible upset now, Father.’

‘Why not take it in turns to read the novel?’ suggested Colbeck. ‘Mr Andrews is at work all day so you can pick it up whenever you have a moment, Madeleine. The only time he has a chance to read it is in the evenings.’

‘I suppose so,’ she conceded.

‘That’s settled then,’ said her father, getting up from his chair. ‘Anyway, you can’t read it while you have company, Maddy. I’ll finish this chapter in the kitchen.’

‘Before you go, Mr Andrews,’ said Colbeck, raising a hand, ‘I wanted a word. This is very unlikely to happen now but, if it did, could I have your permission to take Madeleine to the theatre?’

‘The answer is yes.’

‘I should warn you that the theatre is in Cardiff.’

‘Then the answer is no.’

‘Father!’ protested Madeleine.

‘I’m not having a daughter of mine travelling on the Great Western Railway,’ said Andrews, good-naturedly. ‘I know it links up with the South Wales Railway but that’s just as bad. Take Maddy somewhere on the LNWR instead.’

‘He was only joking,’ she said as her father went into the kitchen. ‘Now I have a chance to give you a proper welcome.’

Colbeck embraced her. ‘Isn’t this better than reading Charles Dickens?’ he said before giving her a kiss. ‘I’ve missed you.’

‘I’ve spent the whole day wondering where you were.’

‘We went to Gloucester, Chepstow, Newport and Caerleon,’ he said. ‘Then I sent Victor Leeming back to London and went on to Cardiff. It’s just as well that I like travelling by rail so much.’

‘Has the case been resolved?’

‘Not exactly, Madeleine – it’s taken a new twist.’

‘Do tell me about it.’

They sat beside each other and Colbeck recounted the events of the day. She was startled to hear that the real villain was Hugh Kellow and that the woman claiming to be his sister was equally culpable.

‘So who was the murder victim?’

‘A young man named Martin Henley,’ he said. ‘I’ve just come from the undertaker’s where I took his father to look at the body. He confirmed that it was his son. I’m sorry I’ve called at such a late hour but I’ve been rather busy since I got back to London.’

‘Call as late as you like, Robert.’

‘You might have gone to bed.’

‘Then throw stones at my window. You’re always welcome here.’ He hugged her again. ‘But don’t take Father’s side over that book next time. I want to read it.’

‘Would you rather be reading it now?’ They laughed.

She became serious. ‘Do you have any idea where they’ve gone?’

‘Not yet,’ he confessed.

‘They could have fled abroad.’

‘I think that’s very unlikely,’ he said. ‘They’d have much more difficulty getting established in a foreign country and they’d have to learn the language. That would be enough to deter them. No, I think they’ve gone to earth somewhere well outside London.’

‘They may be difficult to find, Robert.’

‘We found Stephen Voke and his wife.’

‘That was different – they were not in hiding.’

‘They were in a sense, Madeleine. They were in hiding from his father. After listening to some of the things that Mr Voke did to his son, I’m not surprised that he wanted to break off all communication with the old man. But I agree,’ he said, ‘Hugh Kellow has taken the trouble to muddy the waters. It won’t be easy to track him.’

‘Where will you start the search?’

‘In Mayfair – that’s where Effie Kellow worked.’

‘But you thought that she might be using a false name.’

‘I’m sure that she did.’

‘Then why are you bothering to go to Mayfair?’

‘Because the name of her employer was genuine,’ said Colbeck. ‘At least, I believe it is. She showed us a letter from her so-called brother. It was all part of the deception, of course, and was never actually sent through the post. But it was written by him. It was addressed to Miss Effie Kellow, c/o Mr Dalrymple, Chesterfield Street. When she met Victor and Superintendent Tallis, she showed them another letter from Kellow, explaining that he was going to Cardiff. It seemed very convincing. Mr Kellow thought of everything and planned ahead meticulously.’

‘Then he must have planned his escape as well.’

‘If he’s still in this country, we’ll track him down.’

‘What if he and this young woman have gone abroad?’

Colbeck was determined. ‘Then we’ll go after them, Madeleine. They can run as far as they wish but we’ll stay on their tail.’

* * *

Hugh Kellow rubbed the silver to a high sheen then stood back to admire the effect. Effie came into the room and saw him.

‘Have you been polishing it again?’ she said, clicking her tongue. ‘You’ll wear it away if you keep doing that, Hugh.’

‘It’s all mine now,’ he told her, admiring the detail. ‘And so it should be. I did nine-tenths of the work and Mr Voke passed it off as his. He always did that. Stephen and I slaved over lots of pieces on our own then, when they were sold in the shop, we’d hear Mr Voke taking all the praise for them. It was unfair.’

‘You got your own back.’

‘He won’t ever do that again, Effie.’