‘I’ve never held this much money in my hands before.’
‘Don’t be tempted, Victor,’ teased Colbeck. ‘Crime doesn’t pay.’
‘It pays very well if this is what you get by way of a ransom. Stealing a silver coffee pot is far better than kidnapping a person. You don’t have the problem of guarding and feeding someone who’s been abducted. A coffee pot is also much easier to hide.’
‘That’s assuming that they actually have it in their possession.’
‘They must do, sir.’
‘Must they?’ asked Colbeck. ‘Allow for every eventuality, Victor. It’s not impossible that those ransom notes are part of an elaborate hoax. You saw the report in the local newspaper. Everyone in Cardiff is aware that Mrs Tomkins had her silver coffee pot stolen. What’s to stop an enterprising local villain from claiming to have it in order to squeeze some money out of a wealthy man? Instead of pursuing a killer tonight, we could be on a wild goose chase.’
Leeming was deflated. ‘Does that mean we won’t be able to catch the late train back to London?’ he asked, disconsolately.
As the evening wore slowly on, Clifford and Winifred Tomkins grew increasingly nervous. He was worried about the ransom money he had handed over and she was frightened that her silver coffee pot might have been badly damaged in some way. Doubts arose in her mind.
‘How much faith can we place in Inspector Colbeck?’
‘He seems to know what he’s doing, Winifred.’
‘I think that you should have taken the ransom.’
Tomkins spluttered. ‘And run the risk of being hurt?’ he said in alarm. ‘We’re up against a killer. I think it’s very brave of Sergeant Leeming to confront him.’
‘But the letter said that it should be you, Clifford.’
‘Nobody will know the difference in this light.’
They were in the library, a large, oak-panelled room with well-stocked bookshelves around three walls. Most of the volumes would never even be looked at but Tomkins had felt it important to have a library for show. Crossing to the window, he peered out.
‘It’s starting to get dark already.’
‘I just wish I had more confidence in Inspector Colbeck.’
‘Stockdale has been singing his praises aloud.’
‘He can’t be relied on,’ complained Winifred. ‘There’s corruption in the police force and, according to Lady Pryde, the superintendent takes bribes.’
‘That’s wicked gossip,’ said Tomkins, who had not parted with a penny to secure Stockdale’s silence about the nocturnal raid on a particular brothel. ‘One or two constables have been dismissed for drunkenness, it’s true, and others have been slack in their duties but that’s to be expected. There will always be a smattering of drunks and idlers in any organisation. Look at the problems we had with the police in Merthyr – it was far worse there. I think the superintendent is to be commended with the way he runs things here.’
‘Lady Pryde knows him better than we do.’
‘She thinks that everyone is either corrupt or untrustworthy. I’m amazed to hear you quoting her, Winifred. Lady Pryde is a ferocious snob and I’m glad we’ve severed all links with her.’
‘She said the most unforgivable things about Merthyr.’
‘That was only because she’s never been there.’
‘She called it a disgusting and uncivilised hole populated by the dregs of humanity.’
‘Sir David should take her for a walk around Butetown at night,’ he said, grimly, ‘then she’d see just how uncivilised Cardiff can be.’
‘She laughed when I told first told her about my coffee pot,’ said Winifred, still wounded by the memory. ‘That’s when I realised how much I loathed her. Well, she may laugh on the other side of her hideous face when everyone tells her what a magnificent object it is.’
‘Let’s get it back here first.’
‘What time is it, Clifford?’
He pulled a watch from his waistcoat pocket. ‘It’s almost time for the exchange,’ he told her. ‘In a few minutes, Sergeant Leeming will be apprehending the thief. The money and the coffee pot should be safely returned here before very long.’
From the moment he started to walk along the path, Leeming knew that he was being watched. Though he could not see anybody, he was aware of their presence. Light was fading in the park and trees and shrubs were taking on a ghostly shape. Obeying the instructions in the letter, he was carrying a small bag containing the ransom money. As he walked past a fountain, he lifted the bag up in his right hand to indicate that he was following orders. Then he strolled on, looking neither to right nor left. Heading for a stand of trees in the middle distance, he quickened his step. That was where the exchange would be made, he decided. Someone with a telescope was probably watching every step that he took.
Halfway there, he had to go past a clump of bushes. Eyes fixed on the trees, he ignored all else. It was a serious error. No sooner had he passed a large bush than someone jumped up from behind him, knocked off his top hat then struck his head with something hard and heavy. Oblivious to what had happened, Leeming collapsed in a heap. It was some time before he began to regain consciousness. His head was pounding like a drum, the wound was smarting unbearably and blood was trailing down the back of his coat. His brain was on fire. Trying to stand, he keeled over at once. He finished on his hands and knees. When it finally dawned on him that he had fallen into a trap, the ransom money was a mile away.
Nothing that Robert Colbeck said could moderate the passion of Clifford and Winifred Tomkins. They were thoroughly outraged. Tomkins had been relieved of his money and Winifred had nothing to show for it in return. No shred of sympathy was shown towards Victor Leeming.
‘You let us both down, Inspector,’ said Tomkins, seething with fury. ‘I shall be informing your superior of this fiasco.’
‘You misled us,’ howled Winifred. ‘You assured us that we’d have that coffee pot back where it belonged before nightfall. Now I have no hope of ever seeing it here.’
‘Your conduct has been appalling, sir.’
‘We feel utterly cheated.’
‘Well?’ demanded Tomkins. ‘What have you to say?’
‘My thoughts are with Sergeant Leeming,’ said Colbeck, coolly, ‘and I’m shocked that neither of you has given him a second thought. He was the person who walked into danger on your behalf. At the very least, that might merit an ounce of gratitude.’
Tomkins was unrepentant. ‘He lost my money.’
‘No, sir – he had it taken away from him by a brutal attacker. The sergeant had no call to be there,’ Colbeck told them. ‘That letter specified that you would carry the money, Mr Tomkins. Had you not been spared that task by a brave officer, then it would have been your head that was battered with a chunk of stone.’ Tomkins put a hand protectively against the back of his skull. ‘Would you have had the courage to take part in the exchange, sir?’
‘I would not,’ conceded Tomkins, shamefacedly.
‘Then show some pity for the man who did.’
‘How is he?’ asked Winifred, much more subdued now.
‘The doctor is with him at the moment,’ said Colbeck. ‘With luck, there’ll be no permanent damage but the sergeant has a nasty scalp wound. When I spoke to him, he was still unsure what actually occurred. In the circumstances, I can understand that. If you’ll excuse me,’ he continued, ‘I’ll get back to him.’
‘Wait!’ said Tomkins.
‘I’ll disturb you no longer, sir. You’ll want to write your letter of complaint to my superior. His name is Edward Tallis, by the way. He holds the rank of superintendent.’