‘That’s right,’ agreed Leeming, returning one letter to her as she was giving the other to Colbeck. ‘The funny thing is that there’s no mention of any Bridget in his last letter. Perhaps the friendship didn’t last. What do you think, Inspector?’
‘We can only speculate,’ said Colbeck, reading the letter before handing it back to Effie and noting the care with which she put it into her reticule. ‘Mr Kellow was obviously very secretive about his visit to Cardiff and rightly so. Carrying a valuable item made him a target. What continues to puzzle me is how he ended up in this very hotel.’ He turned to Effie. ‘Can you throw any light on that?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ she said.
‘Did he ever mention this hotel to you before?’
‘Hugh had never been to Cardiff, sir – though he once did some work for a customer here. He was called Sir-Somebody-or-Other and he told Hugh what a good job he’d done.’
‘Do you know what the item was?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said. ‘It was a large silver brooch in the shape of a dragon. Hugh made it last year. He showed me a sketch of the design. It was a wonderful piece of jewellery.’
Colbeck had a strong feeling that he could confirm that. He believed that he had seen that particular brooch being worn by the beautiful woman for whom it had been made – Carys Evans.
Carys Evans alighted from the chaise and went up the steps to the front door. When she pulled the bell rope, there was a loud, jangling sound from somewhere inside the house. The door was eventually opened by the butler. He recognised the visitor at once.
‘Good morning, Miss Evans,’ he said.
‘Good morning, Glover,’ she answered. ‘Is Mrs Tomkins at home?’
‘Yes, but I’m afraid that she’s not available to callers.’
‘I’m not a caller,’ said Carys, easing him aside with a hand so that she could walk across the hall. ‘I’m a close friend and I want to know how she is.’ She knocked on the door of the drawing room and went in. ‘Ah, there you are, Winifred!’
‘Carys!’ exclaimed the other woman in surprise, leaping to her feet. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I came to see how you were, of course. When you didn’t make an appearance at the play last night, I feared that you might be ill or something. You’d never miss an occasion like that as a rule.’
‘We didn’t feel like coming,’ said Winifred.
‘This business with the coffee pot has upset us both,’ said Clifford Tomkins, who had been reading the newspaper when they were interrupted. ‘We didn’t want to spend an evening at the theatre, fending off questions about the theft.’
‘I can understand that,’ said Carys, ‘though you missed an absolutely splendid performance. And, for once in his life, the mayor managed to provide a reception worthy of the name. You were both sorely missed.’
‘We can see the play another night.’
‘I’d recommend that you do so, Clifford.’
‘I’m not really in the mood for watching Macbeth,’ said Winifred. ‘I find it such a depressing play.’
‘It was truly inspiring at the Theatre Royal. Everyone was there. But,’ she went on, holding out the letter in her hand, ‘I’m forgetting my other duty. I’m delivering your post this morning.’
Tomkins took it from her. ‘Where did this come from?’
‘It was handed to me at the gate,’ explained Carys. ‘As we slowed down to turn into your drive, a rather rough-looking individual stepped out of the bushes and asked me to bring this up to the house. I didn’t see any harm in doing that.’ She noticed the exchange of nervous glances between them. ‘Have I done something wrong?’
‘Not at all, not at all,’ said Tomkins.
‘I suppose I should have told that man to deliver it himself. All that he had to do was to walk up the drive and put it through the letterbox. But he lurked outside the gate as if he was frightened of doing that.’ She looked from one to the other. ‘Why was that, do you think?’
‘I really don’t know,’ said Winifred.
‘Did you get a good look at this fellow?’ asked Tomkins. ‘I mean, would you know him if you saw him again?’
Carys was uncertain. ‘I’m not sure,’ she replied. ‘I remember his clothes rather than his face. They were so grubby. He wasn’t a young man and he clearly hadn’t shaved for days. Also, he was wearing a hat with the brim pulled down.’ She gave a shrug. ‘That’s all I can tell you, really. Why are you so interested in the man?’
‘No reason,’ said Tomkins, moving to the door. ‘And do forgive our manners, Carys. Come in and take a seat. Now that you’re here, I’ll organise some refreshments.’
He went off into the hall and the two women sat down. Caught off guard by the sudden visit, Winifred was obviously discomfited. Carys’s inquiry was deliberately gentle.
‘Is there any news about the coffee pot?’
‘No,’ said Winifred, ‘but the police are looking for it. There’s a detective from London in charge of the case.’
‘Yes, I had a visit from Inspector Colbeck. He’s a most engaging gentleman but I still don’t know why he felt obliged to call on me. I don’t suppose that you suggested he did so, did you?’
‘No, no,’ lied the other.
‘I was sure you wouldn’t do a thing like that. It’s the sort of thing Martha Pryde might do in the circumstances but not you.’
Winifred’s tone was vinegary. ‘I suppose that she was at the play last night, trying to get as much attention as usual. I really don’t know what I saw in Lady Pryde. She turned out to be a real monster.’
‘Those of us who know her discovered that long ago.’
‘Yet you still continue to see her.’
‘Only now and again,’ said Carys, ‘and not with any pleasure. I’d hate to be thought of as a close friend of hers. I’m more of a distant acquaintance. It’s her manner I object to – she will hector.’
She was about to pass some more remarks about Lady Pryde when they were interrupted by Tomkins. Opening the door, he thrust an anxious face into the room.
‘Excuse me, ladies,’ he said, forcing a smile. ‘I wonder if I could have a word with you in private, Winifred? Something has arisen.’
Jeremiah Stockdale arranged for the coffin to be loaded into the guard’s van of the train before Effie Kellow even arrived at the station. He felt that she would be upset if she saw her brother’s body arriving in a wooden casket. Victor Leeming was touched by his friend’s consideration and told him so. The two men stood on the platform to wave the train off. Constable Roberts, pleased to have a day that did not entail pounding his beat in Cardiff, waved back at them through the window. Effie did not even glance in their direction. As on the journey to the town, she sat motionless in deep silence.
Stockdale sighed. ‘Poor girl!’ he said. ‘She’ll never get over something like this.’
‘I fancy that she will,’ argued Leeming. ‘Miss Kellow is stronger than she looks. I saw a glimpse of her willpower when she came to Scotland Yard. I think she’ll recover in time.’
‘I hope so, Sergeant. She’s shown a lot more dignity than Mrs Tomkins. Effie Kellow loses her only brother yet somehow bears up well. Winifred Tomkins loses a silver coffee pot and carries on as if she’s just had her arms and legs amputated with a blunt axe. When all’s said and done,’ he commented, ‘a stolen coffee pot can be replaced. You can never replace a dead brother.’
‘That’s true, Superintendent.’
‘She’s in good hands on that train. Idris Roberts has a daughter of his own. He’ll look after Miss Kellow.’
As the train vanished from sight, the two men headed towards the exit. While his sympathy was with Effie, his mind was on another young woman altogether.