are rather drab.’
‘You’ll have anything you want in here, my love.’
‘We could do with a painting over the bed, Hugh – something with animals on, a country scene. What about an ottoman under the window? That’s what Mrs Dalrymple had and I always sat on it for a few minutes when I was supposed to be cleaning their bedroom.’
‘Your cleaning days are over, Effie.’
‘And it’s all thanks to you,’ she said, taking his hands and looking up at him. ‘You’re the cleverest husband in the world, Hugh Vernon, do you know that?’
‘It took a lot of planning to get here.’
‘I could never have worked everything out like that.’
‘It all started when Mr Voke sent me here to deliver something,’ he recalled. ‘As soon as I stepped into the Jewellery Quarter, I knew it was where I wanted to be. It’s like a whole village devoted to precious metal. Whenever I had time off, I’d jump on a train and come to Birmingham just to walk around these streets.’
‘We were so lucky to find this place.’
‘I had to move fast, Effie. Property is snapped up around here. You’ll find people working in the jewellery trade in most of the houses as well as in the factories. What made the difference,’ he said, ‘was that I was able to pay in cash and outbid everyone else.’ He laughed. ‘That was partly due to Mr Voke, of course. The old fool didn’t realise that I’d been stealing money from his safe for months.’
‘You’d earned it, Hugh. You were doing all the work there.’
‘I’d hoped to have my name over the shop but it was not to be. I saw a copy of his will in the safe. He’d left everything to his sister in Kent and she’d have no reason to keep the place open. The stock would have been sold off and I’d have been looking for work elsewhere. I felt betrayed. So I decided to go at a time of my own choosing,’ he said, ‘and to teach Mr Voke a lesson in the process.’
‘Between us, we outwitted everyone,’ she said, giggling.
He was complacent. ‘Yes, Effie – and that includes the police.’
Colbeck had been to Birmingham before while investigating the train robbery that had resulted indirectly in his friendship with Madeleine Andrews. He knew what to expect. It was a big, thriving, major city with a continuous din, smoking chimneys, bustling thoroughfares, shops, offices and factories galore, and with the abiding smell of heavy industry in the air. When they arrived at the station, they took a cab to the police station near the Jewellery Quarter. While Colbeck went in, Madeleine and Leeming were left outside to look around. What seized their attention at once was the tall spire of St Paul’s Church.
‘It’s like the spire of St Martin’s-in-the-Fields,’ said Leeming. ‘I’ll be interested to see what the rest of the church looks like – if we get the chance, that is. The trouble with being a policeman is that we never have time to enjoy the sights of places we’ve been to. We’re always on duty.’
‘Tell me about Effie Kellow.’
‘The inspector did that on the train journey.’
‘Robert only talked about the crimes she helped to commit. He didn’t really describe her appearance.’
‘She’s a very pretty young woman, Miss Andrews,’ he told her. ‘She’s quite short and slight but with lovely big eyes. Her real name is Bridget Haggs but she’ll be calling herself something else now – and so will Mr Kellow.’
‘Why is that?’
‘It would be too big a risk to keep it. If he puts the name of Kellow above a shop, there’s always the danger that someone might recognise it. He and Mr Voke were well-known in jewellery circles in London. Kellow is a name you’d remember.’
They chatted amiably together. Leeming did not know how close Madeleine and Colbeck really were and he did not try to find out. He simply accepted that they were good friends and he was aware of how much help she had given them on some investigations. He found her extremely companionable. For her part, Madeleine was very fond of the sergeant, always asking after his family and keenly interested to hear how he reconciled married life with the time-consuming job of being a detective. She was still hearing about his children when Colbeck came out of the police station, holding a street map. He spread it out on a low wall.
‘Now,’ he said, jabbing with his finger, ‘we are here at the moment. That’s Caroline Street over there, leading to St Paul’s Square. It’s one place we can eliminate straight away.’
‘Why is that, sir?’ asked Leeming.
‘According to the desk sergeant, no property has been sold there recently. It used to be a residential area though he remembers that merchants, factors, solicitors, an auctioneer and a surgeon also lived there. Many of those fine big houses have now been converted into workshops.’ He pointed to the map again. ‘The sergeant suggested that we look here in Vittoria Street.’
Leeming grinned. ‘It’s a funny way to spell the Queen’s name.’
‘The street commemorates a battle we won against Napoleon’s army,’ said Colbeck. ‘I suggest that we split up, Victor. If you go down Warstone Lane and on to Frederick Street, Madeleine and I will stroll down Vittoria Street. We’ll meet up here,’ he tapped the map, ‘at this point on Graham Street.’
‘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
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?’
