‘Perhaps I was being too hasty, Inspector.’
‘Selfish is the word that springs to mind, Mr Tomkins.’
‘I’m entitled to worry about losing that money.
‘And I’m entitled to feel thoroughly upset about my coffee pot,’ said Winifred, returning to the attack. ‘We’re sorry about Sergeant Leeming, of course, but we have to face facts. You promised that everything would go as planned and this happens. We’re bound to question your judgement, Inspector.’
‘Yes,’ said her husband, revived by her show of spirit, ‘we’ll not be made to feel guilty. We’re the victims here, after all. Thanks to you, we’ll never see that money or that coffee pot ever again.’
‘Then you have little insight into the criminal mind, sir,’ said Colbeck. ‘You’ve not heard the last of them yet.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘They will want every penny that they can get from you. It’s only a question of time before you get another ransom note.’
Tomkins turned puce. ‘Pay for that damned coffee pot a third time!’ he shouted. ‘I simply refuse to do that.’
‘To be precise, you’ve only paid in full for it once.’
‘Plus the fifty pounds I paid on deposit.’
‘That went to Mr Voke,’ noted Colbeck. ‘All that you sacrificed today was the full price of the item. If you have another demand – as I’m sure you soon will – it will be for a second payment.’
‘They won’t get a brass farthing from me.’
‘Clifford,’ said his wife, warningly.
‘I wish I’d never bought that confounded thing!’
Winifred bit back what she was going to say. Containing her rage with palpable difficulty, she gritted her teeth and turned to Colbeck.
‘My husband and I need to discuss this matter, Inspector.’
‘No discussion is needed!’ Tomkins blurted out.
‘Could you give us some privacy, please?’ she asked.
‘I was going to leave in any case, Mrs Tomkins,’ said Colbeck, heading for the door. ‘My place is with Sergeant Leeming. Please excuse me,’ he added with a mischievous smile. ‘I know that you and your husband have much to talk about.’
‘How does it feel now?’ asked Stockdale, bending solicitously over him.
‘As if someone is trying to bore a hole in my skull,’ said Leeming, gingerly touching the back of his bandaged head. ‘It’s like being very drunk without the pleasure of having touched alcohol.’
‘How much can you remember?’
‘Not a great deal, Superintendent – I was striding past some bushes then everything suddenly went blank. I must have walked into an ambush.’
‘I wish I’d been closer,’ said Stockdale, ‘instead of being stuck at the railway station. I should have ringed the whole area with my men.’
‘That would have scared them off completely.’
‘Maybe – but it would have saved you a nasty headache.’
‘Estelle hates it when I get injured in the line of duty.’
‘Is that your wife?’
‘She thinks that being a policeman is too hazardous. Estelle would prefer it if I worked for her father in his ironmonger’s shop. I want more out of life than selling tin baths,’ asserted Leeming. ‘I need the feeling that I’m doing something really useful.’
They were in the superintendent’s office at the police station in St Mary Street. Leeming was slumped in a chair, partially revived by the glass of brandy he had been given but still faintly groggy. The wound had been examined, cleaned and stitched by a doctor and thick bandaging tied in place. It might still be possible to catch the late train to Paddington but – not wishing to return home in that condition – he resigned himself to spending another night in Cardiff. By the next day, he hoped, the agony might have eased and the swirling fog in his mind might have cleared.
There was a tap on the door then Colbeck entered.
‘How are you now, Victor?’ he asked.
Leeming was stoical. ‘I’ll survive, sir.’
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t wait until the doctor had finished. I felt that Mr and Mrs Tomkins ought to know as soon as possible what had transpired.’
‘I’d much rather you told them than me.’
‘I can’t imagine that they showed much gratitude for what the sergeant did,’ said Stockdale. ‘They’re a mean-minded pair.’
‘You’re placing too kind a construction on their behaviour,’ said Colbeck. ‘They were abominable. They ranted at me for betraying them and took no account of Victor’s injury. I don’t think he’d have elicited genuine compassion out of them if he’d been killed in the attack. It’s difficult to say which of them is worse – the blustering husband or the wrathful wife.’
‘They’re tarred with the same brush,’ said the superintendent with asperity. ‘It’s a shame they were not feathered at the same time.’
Colbeck was philosophical. ‘They’re not the most likeable human beings,’ he conceded, ‘but we have to remember that they are the victims of a crime.’
‘So is Victor Leeming – thanks to them!’
‘The culprit has so far committed murder, robbery and violent assault,’ said Leeming, ruefully, ‘and that makes me certain it’s a man. No woman could knock me cold like that.’
‘They could if you walked around the docks at night,’ warned Stockdale with a ripe chortle. ‘There are some wild creatures down there – Big Ruth, for instance. She once floored one of my constables with a belaying pin. It took four of them to arrest her.’
‘The woman we’re looking for is less of a virago,’ said Colbeck, ‘but her charm is as just as effective as a belaying pin. It’s clear that she has a male accomplice to do her dirty work. We’ll be hearing from them before too long, I daresay.’
‘Won’t they simply take the money and run?’
‘No, Superintendent – they can sniff an even bigger pay day.’
Leeming gaped. ‘Will I have to go through that again?’
‘I’ll go in your place, Sergeant,’ offered Stockdale.
‘Thank you.’
‘I look far more like Clifford Tomkins than you do.’
‘Neither of you will be called upon,’ decided Colbeck. ‘They won’t repeat the same trick again because they know we’d be ready for it next time. We tried to fox them and they outwitted us. The rules will be changed for the second exchange.’
‘I can’t wait to catch up with Stephen Voke,’ said Leeming with quiet determination. ‘He won’t find it quite so easy to get the better of me when my back isn’t turned.’
‘I look forward to meeting him as well,’ said Stockdale, harshly. ‘We’ve got an empty cell all ready for the bastard.’
Colbeck brooded. ‘The person who really interests me is the woman,’ he said at length. ‘All that we know about her so far is that she’s beautiful, persuasive and highly resourceful. She must also be utterly pitiless to condone such brutality. I’d love to know what the lady is doing right this minute.’
‘I’m terribly sorry I’m so late,’ said Carys Evans to her hosts. ‘I hope that I haven’t held you all up.’
She arrived at the Somerville residence when the other guests were still enjoying a pre-prandial glass of champagne in the drawing room. There were almost a dozen people there and she knew them all well. Everyone gave her a cordial welcome but it was Lady Pryde who bore down on her with a possessive glint. Carys was very glad that someone put a glass into her hand. She took a preparatory sip of champagne.
‘There you are!’ said Martha, taking by the elbow to guide her into a corner of the room. ‘We’d given you up, Miss Evans.’