‘Yes,’ she said, pointedly, ‘a part that I’ve now yielded to Miss Tremaine. Where did you pluck that useless creature from, Nigel?’
‘Laura Tremaine has a talent.’
‘For what – it’s certainly not acting!’
He grinned wolfishly. ‘Do I detect a note of envy?’
‘I could never envy that empty-headed little baggage. Her Lady Macduff is ludicrous but it pales beside her appalling Ophelia. Be prepared, Nigel. When the audience in Newport realises that Ophelia has drowned herself, they’ll break into spontaneous applause.’
‘Let’s have more respect for a fellow-actress, please!’
‘Then cast one worthy of the name.’
‘A company must pull together, Kate.’
‘Spare me, please – I’ve heard that speech too many times.’
‘There’s no talking to when you’re in such a fevered state,’ he said, moving to the door. ‘I hope you’ll have come to your senses by the time we go on stage this evening – and when we get back here.’
‘Knock on someone else’s door,’ she advised, rising to her feet to strike a pose. ‘I daresay Miss Tremaine will leave hers unlocked for you. Lady Macduff would fawn at your feet.’
‘Stop it, Kate!’ he ordered.
‘Or perhaps Miss Carys Evans is more to your taste.’
‘I’ll have no more of it, do you understand? You’re acting like a dog in a manger – you may not want something yet you’re determined that nobody else will have it.’
‘Close the door when you go out, please.’
Buckmaster fumed. ‘I’ll see you later,’ he said, angrily, ‘when I trust that you will behave like a grateful member of a company that I happen to manage. Remember that.’
Storming out of the room, he left the door wide open.
* * *
Robert Colbeck studied the letter with interest. It was written by the same person who had penned the earlier ransom note. He handed it to Victor Leeming to read. Clifford and Winifred Tomkins had sent for the detectives and now watched them carefully. Winifred was excited at the prospect of getting her coffee pot back while her husband was resenting the cost involved. As a businessman, he had been used to driving a hard bargain, paying the lowest price for something he could sell at the largest profit. It appalled him that he would have to buy back something on which he had already spent fifty pounds deposit.
‘These instructions seem quite clear,’ said Colbeck. ‘The money is to be handed over this evening. Do you have it ready, sir?’
‘Yes, Inspector,’ said Tomkins, ‘but I’m loathe to let it out of my hands. Supposing that the thief simply grabs it and runs away?’
‘Sergeant Leeming will make sure that doesn’t happen.’
‘I’m still unhappy about the whole thing.’
‘It’s the only way to get my coffee pot back, Clifford,’ said his wife. ‘You promised me that you’d pay anything to retrieve it.’
‘Anything within limits,’ he corrected.
‘With luck, it won’t cost you anything at all. The sergeant will arrest the thief so that the money and the coffee pot are both safe.’
‘There is one debt to discharge, Mrs Tomkins,’ said Colbeck. ‘Mr Kellow died before he could collect the balance from your husband. All that’s been paid to Mr Voke so far is the deposit. I’ll be glad to take the rest of the money to him on your behalf.’
‘Let’s make sure that we’ve still got it,’ said Tomkins.
‘I’ve no reason to doubt that, sir.’
‘According to this,’ said Leeming, handing the letter back to the inspector, ‘Mr Tomkins is supposed to hand over the money. If, as we suspect, the villain is Stephen Voke then there could be a problem. We know that he was still working for his father when Mr Tomkins went to the shop to commission the coffee pot.’
‘That was a long while ago, Sergeant,’ said Tomkins.
‘And there’s something else you should have noticed,’ said Colbeck. ‘The exchange is to be made when evening shadows are falling. In bad light, you could certainly be taken for Mr Tomkins, I fancy. Stephen Voke – if, indeed, it is him – will see little of your face.’
‘Didn’t you say you thought a woman might be there to take the money?’ asked Winifred. ‘I find that hard to countenance, I must say.’
‘Look at the handwriting, Mrs Tomkins,’ suggested Colbeck. ‘It is patently a woman’s. I think that significant. Well, you’ve both seen the instructions. Has she chosen a good place for the exchange?’
‘Yes,’ said Tomkins, grudgingly. ‘Sergeant Leeming will be seen from a long way off. If the thief has the slightest suspicion, he or she can simply vanish.’
‘That’s why the sergeant will be alone.’
Leeming grinned. ‘Carrying all that money,’ he said. ‘It will be a new experience for me to be so well off, if only for a short while.’
‘Take care of every penny,’ urged Tomkins.
‘And please bring my coffee pot back to me,’ said Winifred.
Colbeck held up the letter. ‘How was this delivered?’
‘There was a man loitering at our gate, apparently,’ she explained. ‘When a friend arrived in her chaise, he thrust it into her hand and asked her to bring it to us. All she can recall of the fellow was that he was badly dressed and was in need of a shave. Oh, and he was not young.’
‘He was probably paid to do exactly what he did. It’s unlikely that he has any connection with the murder and the theft. By the way,’ he went on, giving the letter to her, ‘who was the friend who brought this to your door?’
‘It was Carys Evans.’
‘How interesting!’ said Colbeck, thinking of a silver brooch in the shape of a dragon. ‘And were you expecting the lady to call?’
‘Oh, no,’ replied Winifred. ‘She came without warning. Carys had some flimsy excuse about being worried because my husband and I failed to attend the play last night. I think that she just came to enjoy my discomfort at losing that silver coffee pot.’
Colbeck could imagine another reason altogether for the visit.
CHAPTER NINE
Sir David Pryde stood in front of the cheval-mirror as he adjusted his bow tie then ran a palm over his thinning hair. His wife, meanwhile, was seated at her dressing table, putting the finishing touches to her appearance. She issued a command.
‘Don’t drink so much champagne this evening, David.’
‘I like it,’ he protested.
‘Sometimes, I fear, it does not like you. At the reception last night, I don’t think you realised how many glasses you had. And what was the result?’ she asked, swinging round to face him. ‘You had one of your migraines yet again.’
‘It wore off after a few hours, Martha.’
‘That may be so but it meant that you spent the night in the other room instead of beside me. I prefer to sleep with my husband.’
‘Then that’s what you’ll do tonight,’ he promised. ‘I’ll take care to drink in moderation. I missed being with you last night but my head was splitting when we got home. It was excruciating. I would not have been good company’
His recurring migraines were a useful invention. They gave him an excuse to leave the marital couch occasionally and slip away from the house for an assignation. His wife was a heavy sleeper. Once she had dozed off, she would not hear the horse’s hooves as he rode off into the darkness. When she had been awakened by her husband that morning, it never crossed her mind that he had spent the night near Llandaff Cathedral with another woman.
‘Who else is dining with the Somervilles?’ he asked.