Nigel Buckmaster was impaled on the horns of a dilemma. He had always planned to entice Laura Tremaine into bed at some time in the future yet, now that they were alone in a hotel room, he held back from taking advantage of her. Recognising her obvious talent, he felt that he could develop her potential to the point where she was capable of taking on major roles. Eventually, he had hoped, she would replace Kate Linnane as his leading lady and as his mistress. Laura had the same freshness, the same burning ambition and the same eagerness to work hard at her craft that Kate had once possessed. She also had two things that the older woman now lacked – a readiness to obey his every wish and the incomparable beauty of youth.
As he looked at her now, beaming up at him with undisguised infatuation, he had a fierce urge to take her. What held him back was the thought that a large audience would be gathering that evening to watch him repeat his magical performance as Macbeth. An hour's pleasure with Laura Tremaine was an hour's less rehearsal time. It might also stir up her emotions in a way that would adversely affect her performance onstage. Buckmaster was in a quandary. Should he surrender to lust or put the needs of the company first? Should he drown his anxieties in sensual abandon or prepare a young actress for the biggest test of her career?
While not understanding its implications, Laura could see the indecision dancing in his eyes. She was troubled.
'Is something wrong, Mr Buckmaster?' she asked.
'Yes,' he replied with a deep sigh. 'I'm afraid that there is, alas.' He lowered his voice. 'I must tell you this in the strictest confidence. I know that I can rely on your discretion.'
'I won't breathe a word, sir.'
'I will give out that Miss Linnane is indisposed but the truth of the matter is that she has been abducted.'
'Abducted!' she echoed in alarm.
'Have no fear,' he said, allowing himself to take her reassuringly by the shoulders. 'You are not in any danger. I'll see to that. A search is being conducted for Miss Linnane and I have every confidence that she will return to us. Until then,' he said, letting his hands slide gently down her arms, 'you must step into the breach. We owe it to our audience to carry on and we owe it to ourselves to rise above this temporary setback.'
Laura was resolute. 'I am ready, Mr Buckmaster,' she said. 'I'll do anything you ask of me.'
Desire coursed through him again and he had to fight an impulse to enfold her in his arms and enjoy that first, long, tender, exploratory kiss. She was ready to play Lady Macbeth but was she ready to be his? Buckmaster controlled himself. The time to make that decision was after that evening's performance and not before. If they could wrest success out of misfortune, they could celebrate together. He became businesslike, moving the furniture to the margins of the room to create a space.
'Are you nervous?' he asked.
'A little,' she confessed.
'There's no need to be. If we can harness your talent properly, you will play the part to perfection. I have no qualms.'
'Thank you, Mr Buckmaster.'
'You know the lines – I've been through them with you often enough – but what we do need to address are the deeper aspects of the character. Lady Macbeth is no mere monster. She's a complex woman whose emotions need to be understood and communicated to the audience.'
'Miss Linnane does that superbly.'
'I mean this as no disrespect to a fine actress,' he said, 'but we must dismiss Kate Linnane from our minds. It is Laura Tremaine who will play Lady Macbeth now. That and that alone is all that concerns us. This afternoon, we'll rehearse at the theatre with the rest of the company. What I wish to do now in the privacy of this room is to go through your scenes line by line. Think of me as Macbeth, your loving husband. I want you to grow towards me in every way.'
'Yes, Mr Buckmaster.'
'You must convince everyone that you are truly my wife.'
Laura quivered with pleasure. Under his direction, she was ready to throw herself body and soul into a role she had always coveted. Aspiration momentarily got the better of her. She was glad that Kate Linnane had been abducted and had no sympathy for her. If anything, she felt a suppressed glee. Laura believed that it was her destiny to replace the other actress and she intended to do it on a permanent basis.
'Here I am, sir,' she said, spreading her arms in a gesture of submission. 'Instruct me.'
Winifred Tomkins was inconsolable. The humiliation of having paid out a substantial amount of money for a worthless object was like a stake through the heart. After trudging all the way back home, she took to her bed. Her husband was infuriated by what he heard. He sent immediate word to the police station. Colbeck and Stockdale arrived to find him still aflame with righteous indignation.
'It's not my fault!' he asserted, arms flailing. 'I take no blame at all for this, gentlemen. I did warn my wife. I did caution her against rash behaviour.'
'Then why didn't you stop Mrs Tomkins going?' asked Colbeck.
'I was deceived, Inspector. I was never shown that second letter. How was I to know that the instructions had been changed?'
'You would surely have been told of the new arrangements had you provided the money required, sir. That seems to be the crux of the matter here. Mrs Tomkins only acted on her own because you refused to supply the sum demanded.'
Tomkins reddened. 'I won't be criticised in my own house!'
'Inspector Colbeck is only pointing out the true facts of the situation, sir,' said Stockdale. 'There was a loss of trust between you and Mrs Tomkins. She was driven to act unilaterally and has paid the penalty. The financial loss incurred is hers.'
'And mine,' insisted Tomkins. 'Who do you think paid for the carriage and horses? I'm the victim of a robbery as well.'
'But you did not have to face a loaded pistol.'
'That's beside the point, man.'
'I don't agree, sir,' said Colbeck. 'Mrs Tomkins has lost more than her money. She underwent a frightening ordeal. That was why it was imperative for trained police officers to be with her at the time of the exchange. Had I been hidden in the carriage, I could have waited for the moment to catch the man off guard and overpower him. Nothing would have been stolen then and Mrs Tomkins would not have been tricked by this.'
He indicated the coffee pot locomotive that stood on the table. It had a clear resemblance to the item commissioned but could never withstand close inspection. Made of tin, it looked cheap and hastily finished. There were sharp edges on it everywhere.
'Look at it,' said Tomkins, trying to grab the locomotive and pricking his finger in the process. 'It's utterly useless.'
'Not to me,' said Colbeck. 'It's further proof that the man we're looking for is a silversmith. This was deliberately fashioned so that it could be used as a decoy. Mrs Tomkins, I daresay, was only given a glimpse of it from a distance.'
'The villains have made quite a haul,' noted Stockdale. 'They not only pocketed three times the value of the coffee pot, they still have the object themselves.'
'Don't forget the contents of Mr Voke's safe in London,' Colbeck reminded him. 'The thief now has enough stock and capital to set himself up in business as a silversmith. That makes me even more convinced of his identity.'
'Who is he, Inspector?' demanded Tomkins.
'We believe that he may be Mr Voke's son and that he has a female accomplice with some knowledge of the town. He's a clever man, Mr Tomkins. He exploited your wife's determination to have that coffee pot at all costs and it may even be that she was not the only victim of a decoy. The superintendent and I discussed this on the way here,' said Colbeck. 'At the time when Mrs Tomkins was handing over that money, the police force was distracted.'
'Yes,' explained Stockdale. 'The leading lady from the theatre company has been kidnapped. It's a possibility that the crime was committed in order to divert our attention away from events here. Only time will tell.'
'My feeling is that the two things are unrelated,' said Colbeck, 'but the coincidence is strange. The abduction needed immediate attention from the superintendent and his men.'
'Why me?' cried Tomkins. 'What have I done to deserve it? Why has all this disaster been visited upon me?'
'I'd say that you've come off rather lightly, sir,' remarked Stockdale. 'It's Mrs Tomkins who's really suffered here.'
'Then there's Sergeant Leeming,' added Colbeck, 'who was assaulted in your place. As for Miss Linnane, victim of a kidnap, we can only guess at the horrors she has been put through. Compared to others, sir, your problems have been relatively small.'
'That's all you know!' said Tomkins under his breath.
He was thinking of the difficulties that lay ahead, of the reproaches that were to come when his wife recovered and of the permanent damage done to their marriage. Winifred thought his behaviour had been unforgivable and she was a woman who harboured grudges forever. In failing to support her at a time of need, he had guaranteed himself years of bitter recrimination. Only the restitution of his wife's money and of the silver coffee pot could save him from sustained misery.
'We must catch these devils!' he shouted.
'We'll endeavour to do so, sir,' said Colbeck, 'but, in losing your wife's confidence, you made our task much more difficult. Had I been present at the exchange, there was a good chance of catching the man we're after.'
'You can't be certain of that outcome.'
'I accept that, Mr Tomkins. That's why I had another line of defence. If the killer had escaped from me, he and his accomplice might well have tried to leave the town by train with their booty.'
'I'd have been waiting for them at the railway station,' said Stockdale, 'and I was expecting to do just that this evening. I was unaware that the exchange would take place so soon.'
'It all comes back to your failure to stand by your wife, sir. You forced her to take independent action and two dangerous criminals have slipped through our fingers as a result.'
'I refuse to acknowledge any responsibility,' insisted Tomkins.
'I can only tell you how we view it,' said Colbeck, looking him in the eye, 'and I venture to suggest that your wife will see it in exactly the same way.' Tomkins swallowed hard. 'Now could I please trouble you to give me the second letter that arrived here today? It might just confirm a worrying little thought I have at the back of my mind.'
It was much more testing than Laura Tremaine had thought. When she had rehearsed the role of Lady Macbeth before, she had simply copied the way that Kate Linnane had played the part. Now that it was hers, Nigel Buckmaster insisted that she put her individual stamp on it and he worked hard to bring that about. She did the letter-reading scene over twenty times before he was satisfied with the interpretation and he went over every syllable of her famous speeches to tease out their meaning and emotional impact. Laura was humbled and exhausted by the exercise but she was also uplifted. Somewhere inside her was the performance of her lifetime and Buckmaster was slowly bringing it out of her. Hours glided by as they exchanged iambic pentameters.
'That's enough!' he decreed at last. 'I think we have earned some refreshment. It is time for the royal couple to feast.'
'Thank you!' she said, overjoyed at his approval.
'We have made great strides and we'll make even more when we rehearse with the full company. I am beginning to have a real sense of you as my wife, my lady, my lover.'
'My performance owes everything to you.'
'We must complement each other in every possible way.'
'Yes, Mr Buckmaster.'
'Oh, I think we can dispense with formalities in private,' he said, slipping an arm around her shoulders. 'Feel free to use my Christian name, Laura.'
'I will, sir – I mean…Nigel.'
After a late luncheon, they adjourned to the theatre to meet the rest of the company. Actors thrived on rumour and superstition and the place was buzzing. Opinions varied as to whether Kate Linnane had been killed, wounded, dismissed, abducted or struck down by a crippling disease. What everyone knew for certain was that she would not be taking part in the play that evening. Conducting Laura to the stage, Buckmaster clapped his hands to silence the hubbub.
'Ladies and gentlemen,' he said, scanning the faces below him, 'I want no more idle speculation about Miss Linnane. All that you need to know is that she is unable to be here this evening. In her place,' he went on, 'I am delighted to tell you that we will have Miss Tremaine.'
There was a burst of spontaneous applause from most of the actors though one or two were less enthusiastic. Laura did not mind. Later that evening, she would be enjoying an ovation from a full audience, signalling the arrival of a new star in the firmament of British theatre. The moment for which she had secretly yearned had finally come. She would shine in one of the greatest tragic roles ever devised for an actress and she would do so in the company of the legendary Nigel Buckmaster. It was true bliss.
The euphoria lasted until she reached her dressing room. Cold reality then set in. As she looked at her costume, she knew that she could never hope to fill it with the same distinction as Kitty Linnane, especially at such short notice. Many of the things that Buckmaster taught her in his hotel room had already vanished from her brain. There was simply too much to learn. Declaiming lines in private had been thrilling. Adapting her performance to those of the other characters in the play would be far more difficult. She suddenly felt her immaturity. Buoyed up by ambition, she had thought herself ready for anything. Now that she was there, now that she was in a dressing room that had so many vestiges of Kate Linnane, now that she took full measure of the challenge she faced, Laura was forced to admit that she was too young, inexperienced and ill-equipped for the role. Her mouth went dry, her stomach heaved and her heart was like a galloping horse. She was in the iron grip of stage fright.
They were true. All those stories about bad luck attending any production of Macbeth had some foundation. Laura had never believed the tales before but the facts were inescapable. They were doomed. The company had been struck by a triple disaster. Murder had greeted their arrival in the town, their leading lady had been kidnapped and Laura Tremaine had been cast as Lady Macbeth. She could turn out to be the biggest disaster of them all.
Robert Colbeck wanted to eliminate one possible suspect before he left Cardiff. Though he doubted if she would condone a murder, he still wondered if Carys Evans was in some way linked to the series of crimes. Accordingly, he paid another call on her cottage. The servant who answered the door was reluctant to admit him.
'Miss Evans is not expecting you, sir,' she said.
'I won't trouble her for long,' promised Colbeck.
'Perhaps you could come back at another time.'
'I need to speak with her now.'
'It's not really convenient.'
'Then I'll stand out here until it is.'
'Miss Evans is rather busy at the moment.'
'I'm never too busy to spare the Inspector a few minutes,' said Carys, appearing in the hall with a welcoming smile. 'Let him in, Maisie.'
'Yes, Miss Evans,' said the servant, dutifully.
She opened the door fully then stood back so that Colbeck could step into the hall. Carys led her visitor into the drawing room. He thought he detected the faintest hint of cigar smoke. It was from the same brand of cigar favoured by Edward Tallis so it was familiar to his nostrils. Offered a chair, he sat down beside the fireplace. Carys, he noted, was still wearing her silver brooch in the shape of a dragon.
'I hope I'm not interrupting you, Miss Evans,' he said.
'Not at all,' she replied, sitting opposite him.
'I had the feeling that you had a guest.'
'I did, Inspector.' She picked up a book from a side table. 'A very special guest, as it happens – Lady Charlotte Guest. I've been reading her translation of the Mabinogion.'
'Have you read it in the original Welsh?'
'Of course,' she said, putting it aside again. 'But let's not pretend that you came to discuss my literary tastes. You have infinitely more charm than Superintendent Stockdale but you are here for precisely the same reason that brought him to my door. It appears – for some unknown reason – that I am under suspicion. Please don't talk in circles like the superintendent. Ask me bluntly what you wish to know.'
'Very well,' he said, 'how have you spent the day?'
'I awoke early, went for my usual walk after breakfast then called on Lady Pryde to take coffee from a silver coffee pot that did not pretend to be anything else. Then I returned home and have been here ever since. Maisie will vouch for that.'
'I'm sure that she will.'
'Now you can ask me about the day of the murder.'
'I've no intention of doing so,' he said with a disarming smile. 'If a lady does not wish to disclose whom she was visiting in the privacy of a hotel room, I respect her right to do so. No, Miss Evans, what I'd like to touch on is a visit you made to a silversmith in London.'
She became more guarded. 'Go on, Inspector.'
'You called at Mr Voke's shop in Wood Street, I hear.'
'Is there any law against that?'
'None at all, Miss Evans,' he said. 'I just wondered if this was before or after you acquired that beautiful brooch you're wearing.'
'It was afterwards, Inspector. I was so impressed with it that I wanted to meet the silversmith who made it. Mr Voke introduced me to his assistant, Mr Kellow, a very pleasant young man.'
Colbeck thought of the corpse at the hotel. 'I met Mr Kellow under more distressing circumstances.'
'I was not in London specifically to visit to the shop,' she explained. 'I have friends with whom I stay occasionally. While I was with them, I took the opportunity to seek out Mr Voke.'
'Did you commission anything else from him?'
'I did, as a matter of fact – it was a silver bracelet.'
'And who was instructed to make it?'
'I asked for Mr Kellow to work on it.'
'Were you pleased with the result?'
'I was very pleased,' she said, 'but I had no further dealings with the firm. After my first visit, I was approached by Mr Voke's son who was working at his father's shop at the time. He told me that he could make me jewellery of the same high quality but at a lower price. When he showed me examples of his work, I could see that he was a good craftsman. So I commissioned a silver necklace from him.'
'Are you telling me that you knew Stephen Voke?'
'Yes, Inspector, we had a business arrangement.'
'Was the necklace satisfactory?'
'It was a fine piece of work at a bargain price.'
'Then you must have gone to his new place of employment in Hatton Garden to collect it from him.'
'No,' she replied. 'Young Mr Voke delivered it by hand.'
Colbeck was alerted. 'Stephen Voke actually came to Cardiff?'
'This is not the end of the world, Inspector,' she said with a teasing laugh. 'As you discovered, we are only a train ride away from London. And I was very grateful to have the necklace brought to my door. I know that your visit to the town has been very disagreeable but young Mr Voke liked what he saw of Cardiff. He appreciated that it was a place with a future.'
'I share that view. It's patently set to grow and grow.'
'He even talked about moving here one day because he was anxious to get away from London. He likes Wales.'
'Have you commissioned anything else from him?'
'Not in person, Inspector,' she said, extending a hand, 'but a friend of mine was kind enough to purchase this ring for me. None of our local silversmiths could have made anything like this.'
The ruby ring set in silver had the same delicate workmanship as her brooch even though the two items had been made by different craftsman. Both of them had been apprenticed to Leonard Voke and he had schooled them well in the trade. The ring was created by a son who was disowned and the brooch by the young man who had taken his place. In looking at the two pieces together, Colbeck felt that he was studying a motive for murder.
Jeremiah Stockdale was writing a report in his office when she called in to see him. Winifred Tomkins was an unexpected visitor and it had obviously taken an effort of will for her to be there. She looked weary, hurt and repentant. He held a chair for her to sit down then resumed his own seat. Since she had difficulty finding the right words, he tried to prompt her.
'Is there anything that I can do, Mrs Tomkins?'
'Yes, Superintendent, there is.'
'Well?'
There was another long pause. Her tongue moistened her lips.
'I'd like you to accept my apology,' she said.
'To be honest, I'm not sure that one is in order.'
'I believe that it is.'
'In that case,' he said, 'perhaps it's I who should be apologising to you. We did our best to reclaim your stolen property and we failed.'
'The failure was on my side,' she confessed. 'I was so eager to have my coffee pot back that I was blind to everything else. What could I – a weak and defenceless woman – hope to do against a ruthless criminal? It was madness. I can see that now. You must think me very silly.'
'I think you acted with more bravery than sense, maybe, but I would never describe your actions as silly.'
'I feel so foolish, Superintendent.'
'The villains took advantage of your innocence, that's all. You were an easy prey. It's nothing to be ashamed of, Mrs Tomkins. A criminal will always look to exploit the unwary,' he told her. 'That was why you were ordered to have no more dealings with the police.'
'I was too reckless.'
'Luckily, you survived the ordeal.'
'I thought I knew better,' she said, morosely. 'And all I was doing was exposing myself to danger and letting myself be robbed of a great deal of money. I can't tell you how embarrassed I feel.' She produced a handkerchief to wipe away a stray tear. 'My enemies will never let me forget this. I'll be the butt of their derision for years.'
'That's not true at all, Mrs Tomkins.'
'I've made myself look totally ridiculous.'
'That may be your opinion,' he said, 'but it's certainly not mine. Besides, who outside a tiny circle is going to know what happened? I will not be voicing it abroad and nor will Inspector Colbeck. Apart from you, your husband and the coachman, of course, nobody else has any knowledge of what took place and there's no earthly reason why they should.'
Winifred brightened. 'Do you mean that, Superintendent?'
'You are unlikely to tell anyone and your husband will hardly want to draw attention to the fact that he refused to provide the money for the exchange. As for your coachman, I daresay you've made sure of his silence.'
'On pain of dismissal,' she said, firmly. 'He'll say nothing.'
'Then you have nothing to worry about.' Stockdale gave a sly smile. 'There is, however, one other person who knows the full details of what occurred on the road to Fairwater and that's the young man who relieved you of that money.'
Her fear returned. 'Do you think that he'll spread the word?'
'No, Mrs Tomkins, I don't. No criminal with any sense will boast about a crafty scheme he devised or the public will be forewarned. That would make it difficult for him to use the same stratagem quite so easily again. You are safe from your enemies,' he assured her. 'They will never hear of this unfortunate episode.'
Stockdale had never believed that he would ever feel sorry for Winifred Tomkins. She was a bossy, selfish, odious, pampered woman with a sharp tongue and he could well understand why her husband sought pleasure elsewhere, even to the extent of paying for it. Seeing her now in such distress, however, the superintendent softened towards her. Her real fault had been her gullibility. Driven to possess the silver coffee pot, she had been coaxed into a situation where she was robbed, tricked and mortified beyond endurance. It was a private wound that would never heal. Notwithstanding that, she had somehow found the courage to come to the police station to offer an apology to someone she feared would join in the general mockery of her. Stockdale was glad that he could give her some peace of mind.
'Will I ever get my coffee pot back?' she asked, meekly.
'Oh, yes,' he affirmed.
'How can you be so certain?'
'Inspector Colbeck will pursue them until he finally runs them to ground. He never gives up, Mrs Tomkins. The chase will continue for as long as necessary and your property will be retrieved.'
'All that my husband can talk about is our carriage.'
'That, too, will be recovered and so will your money.'
She bit her lip. 'I should have trusted Inspector Colbeck,' she said with regret. 'You and he deal with criminals all the time. I was stupid to ignore your help.'
'Thank you, Mrs Tomkins.'
'The person who really deserves an apology is the inspector.'
'I'd agree with that.'
'Where can I find him, Superintendent?'
'I wouldn't advise you to go in search of him just now.'
'Oh – why not?'
'Because he's on a train somewhere between here and London,' said Stockdale, wryly. 'Inspector Colbeck thought that the man we want might have a female accomplice here but he's now satisfied that that is not the case. Having no reason to stay on in Cardiff, he's gone back to Scotland Yard. He'll continue the investigation from there.'
In spite of his reputation for being a hard taskmaster, Edward Tallis was not entirely without compassion. When Victor Leeming had returned that morning, the superintendent had listened to his report with interest then sent him home to reassure his wife that his head injury was not as serious as the heavy bandaging suggested. Though he had been given the rest of the day off, the sergeant insisted on going back to Scotland Yard to take part in the investigation. He was pleased to hear from his superior that progress had been made.
'The most helpful person was Claude Meyrick,' said Tallis. 'He was Stephen Voke's landlord here in London. Mr Meyrick was able to tell me the day and time of his lodger's departure from the house. Given that information, I was able to work out an approximate time of arrival at Paddington Station.'
'That was clever of you, sir,' said Leeming.
'Thank you.'
'It's worthy of Inspector Colbeck.'
Tallis frowned. 'I can act on my own initiative, you know,' he said, tartly. 'Because I knew when he'd be at the station, I was able to make a list of the trains he was most likely to catch.'
'How many of them were there?'
'They were four in number – two of them went to Cardiff.'
'That puts Stephen Voke exactly where we thought he would be.'
'There's more, sergeant,' said Tallis, fingering his moustache. 'I wanted confirmation so I despatched men to the station to talk to the porters. Mr Voke was not alone. He was travelling with an attractive young lady. Since they were quitting London, they would have had a lot of luggage with them and needed the assistance of a porter.'
'Did anyone remember them?'
'They did, fortunately. Thousands of people go to and fro every day and very few of them stand out. But one sharp-eyed porter did recall two people who fitted the description he was given and who caught a train on the day stipulated. The man – I'm certain that it must have been Mr Voke – gave the porter a generous tip.'
'I can see why it stuck in his memory, sir.'
'He stacked their luggage on the roof of the carriage.'
'I think I can guess where the train was going.'
'To Cardiff,' said Tallis, 'and on the day before the murder.'
'It all fits, Superintendent,' decided Leeming. 'However, while we know a lot about Stephen Voke, we know precious little about his companion and Inspector Colbeck feels that she was crucial to the whole scheme. It was the young woman who led Hugh Kellow astray in the first place. I'd love to know who she is.'
'Mr Meyrick could not help us there. Neither could anyone at Solomon Stern's shop. I visited the place myself. Mr Stern and his staff told me that they all knew the young lady by sight but not by name. What they did recall was Stephen Voke's eagerness to leave the shop whenever she appeared.'
'Could it be that she is the real culprit here?' said Leeming.
'The two of them are clearly in this together.'
'Yes, I know, but I'm wondering if she is like Lady Macbeth, urging him on to a deed he might not otherwise have committed. As far as I know, Stephen Voke had no record of breaking the law before this happened. This young woman may have been the catalyst.'
Tallis was astounded to hear mention of a Shakespeare play on the lips of his sergeant and his use of the word 'catalyst' had also been arresting. Leeming was not known for his cultural interests. Tallis doubted if he had ever seen a Shakespearean tragedy performed. Yet here he was, making an interesting point with a valid cross-reference from the world of drama. Having impressed the superintendent, Leeming immediately gave the game away.
'At least,' he said, 'that's what Inspector Colbeck mentioned at one point but only because Macbeth was being staged at the theatre in Cardiff. Two members of the company actually travelled to the town in the same carriage as the murder victim.'
'Evil is not solely a characteristic of the male sex,' said Tallis, solemnly. 'Women can be equally corrupt, if not more so. Stephen Voke would not be the first man driven to commit a murder at the behest of a scheming female. That's not to excuse anything he's done, mark you,' he added, 'but this accomplice of his may bear the greater part of the blame.'
Edward Tallis had a distrust of the opposite sex that sometimes threatened to spill over into misogyny. Leeming had heard his views on the subject a number of times. He feared that he was about to do so again but he was spared another lecture. There was a firm tap on the door. In response to Tallis's command, Robert Colbeck entered. After an exchange of greetings, the newcomer put a friendly hand on Leeming's shoulder.
'What are you doing here?' he asked. 'You should be at home, resting and being spoilt by your wife.'
'That's exactly what I told him,' said Tallis.
'He's earned it, sir. Being so modest, he'll not have told you about the bravery that he showed in Cardiff. In pursuit of a killer, the sergeant risked his life.'
'Then he deserves congratulation.'
'I want to be here,' said Leeming, 'taking part in the search for the man who gave me such a headache. When we catch up with him, I have a score to settle.'
'That time will soon come,' Colbeck told him.
He took a seat and delivered a succinct report on events in Cardiff. The other men were shocked to hear that Winifred Tomkins had spurned the assistance of the police and tried to deal directly with the thief. They both felt that she had been lucky to escape without physical injury and were angry that she had prevented Colbeck from being present at the exchange and therefore in a position to make an arrest. The report provoked Tallis into a familiar tirade.
'That's another aspect of the female character that appals me,' he said, reaching for a cigar from the box on his desk. 'Women do have a propensity to meddle, to get involved in things over which they can never have any control. Mrs Tomkins is a perfect example. With help on offer in the shape of Inspector Colbeck, she blithely decided to take matters into her own hands. She thought, in effect, that she could do what a policeman is trained to do and she learnt that she had severe shortcomings.' He bit off the end of the cigar. 'When will women learn that they have no place whatsoever in the fight against crime? They'd only get in the way and invite injury.' He lit the cigar and puffed hard on it. 'Thank heaven we don't have them here in the Detective Department to hinder us.'
'I've never found that women hinder us,' said Leeming, loyally. 'If anything, my wife does the opposite. Estelle is a great help.'
'Yes,' added Colbeck, 'and I disagree that they have no place in the fight against crime. The time will surely come when we are glad to welcome women into the police service.'
'It had better not come in my time,' grumbled Tallis.
Colbeck could have told him that, in a sense, it already had because he had enlisted the aid of Madeleine Andrews on a number of cases and her contribution had always been valuable. Knowing that the information would only bring certain condemnation from Tallis, he held his peace and inhaled the aroma of the cigar. It reminded him of the faint whiff he had sniffed at Carys Evans's cottage, evidence that Sir David Pryde was also a cigar smoker.
'What has been happening while we've been away?' he asked.
'We've not been sitting on our hands,' replied Tallis.
'Do you have any news of Stephen Voke?'
The superintendent repeated what he had earlier told Leeming. Colbeck absorbed the intelligence before reaching a decision.
'I'll leave from Paddington first thing in the morning,' he said.
Leeming was puzzled. 'Are you going back to Cardiff, sir?'
'No, that's the one place he wouldn't dare to show his face after all that's happened. Stephen Voke left London with the intention of starting up in business elsewhere. One of the towns he considered,' Colbeck went on, 'was Cardiff. My guess is that he chose somewhere within relatively easy reach of Wales by rail. On the day that he and his accomplice left London, they would have needed to unload their luggage at the new abode before going on to Cardiff unencumbered.'
Tallis braced himself. 'I fear that you're about to spring another of your infamous theories on me, Inspector.'
'It's less of a theory than a piece of intuition, sir,' said Colbeck. 'I think that Stephen Voke would choose a town with a railway station so that he could be easily reached by potential customers. I know for a fact that he travelled to Cardiff to deliver an item he made for a client. If he's in a small town, he'll need custom from a wider circle. The search for him must therefore begin on the Great Western and on the South Wales Railways. Somewhere between here and Cardiff, I think we'll find Stephen Voke settling into a new life.'
'He could be in a different part of the country altogether,' argued Tallis. 'Railways go everywhere.'
'I happen to know that he's especially fond of Wales.'
'I'm not surprised,' said Leeming. 'Wales has been very good to him. It's given him a silver coffee pot, a large amount of money, a carriage and two horses. Those are rich pickings for a few days' work. I've learnt to rely on your intuition, Inspector,' he declared, 'so I'll come with you tomorrow.'
'You're looking for a needle in a haystack,' complained Tallis.
'Perhaps, sir,' returned Colbeck, 'but it will be a very large needle in a very small haystack. When two people move into a new community for the first time, they are bound to get noticed, especially if one of them opens a shop as a silversmith. Mr Voke's occupation narrows the search immediately. We'll find them.'
'It's a pity we can't call on the assistance of Superintendent Stockdale,' said Leeming, wistfully. 'He was a tremendous help to us in Cardiff and would like to see this case through to the end.'
'No doubting that, Sergeant. Unfortunately, he's preoccupied with another crime at the moment – a kidnapping.'
'Oh – who was kidnapped?'
'Miss Kate Linnane,' said Colbeck, 'the celebrated actress. She was due to play Lady Macbeth this evening. I sincerely hope that they manage to cope without her.'
They all knew. Laura Tremaine had given a competent performance at the rehearsal but it never took wing. Unable to conquer her nerves, she managed nothing more than a brave stab at the part. Nigel Buckmaster was the first to congratulate her afterwards but he knew that she was no Kate Linnane. He assured her that she would grow fully into the role in front of the audience but that prospect only served to increase her dread. Laura was going to take the stage as the unworthy substitute of an actress who had brought real venom to the part. All that the new Lady Macbeth had achieved was petulance. While everyone in the company knew her deficiencies, they tried to ignore them. Laura received nothing but praise and encouragement.
As the time of performance drew near, her feelings of sheer inadequacy were intensified. Her dresser burbled away happily about the triumph awaiting her but Laura was not persuaded. Even during the rehearsal, when Buckmaster had given a deliberately muted version of Macbeth, she had been totally eclipsed by him. When he released his full power that evening, she would trail helplessly in his wake. Panic set in once again. Buckmaster tried to rally her, coming into her dressing room in his costume and false beard.
'You can do it, Laura,' he told her. 'I know that you struggled this afternoon but that was your first attempt. Put those troubles behind you now. Destiny beckons. This is your moment.'
'I feel sick,' she admitted.
'So do I and so do all of us. It's one of the perennial hazards of this profession. The moment you step on to that stage, the discomfort will vanish in a flash. You'll be Lady Macbeth in every particular.'
His words gave her enough confidence to believe that she might get through the performance without any real mishap but there was no question of matching him. Instead of being a steely wife exhorting him to commit murder, she would be making a polite request for him to assassinate a king. Her Lady Macbeth would have surface value but no depth. Nigel Buckmaster, the man she looked upon as a theatrical paragon, would never forgive her. Instead of being the start of a brilliant career for her, Macbeth would bring her dreams to an end.
In the event, she never even got to utter a single word of her new role. With barely twenty minutes before the curtain was raised, Kate Linnane flung open the door of the dressing room and stormed in like an avenging angel. She eyed Laura with contempt.
'How dare you!' she exclaimed, eyes blazing. 'What on earth are you doing in my costume?'
Afflicted by a blend of horror and relief, Laura was speechless.
'Get this person out of my dressing room,' ordered Kate, 'and bring me my costume back.'
Laura was hustled out by the dresser and Kate slammed the door after them. Arms akimbo, she confronted the staring Macbeth.
'Stop looking at me as if I'm Banquo at the feast,' she said. 'It's me, Nigel. Do you really think I'd let some ambitious minx replace me as Lady Macbeth – never in a hundred years!'
'We thought you'd been abducted,' he gasped.
'What ever gave you that absurd idea?'
'I expected you for breakfast.'
'I had an invitation to eat elsewhere,' she explained, 'and I could hardly refuse to see my brother.'
'You went off with brother?'
'Michael was in Cardiff for a few days on business and wanted to spend time with me. He's in the audience right now. Oh, by the way,' she added, 'don't worry about the time. I told them to hold the curtain for half an hour so that I have some leeway to change.'
'You did this on purpose, Kate,' he said, glowering at her. 'You staged the whole thing to give us a fright. According to the police, you were seen getting on to a train to London with a man in a cloak.'
'It was my brother and we only went as far as Gloucester. That's where he lives now. I always intended to return for the performance. Unless, that is,' she went on, throwing down the challenge, 'you'd prefer that little baggage, Miss Tremaine, to play Lady Macbeth. If that's what you wish, Nigel, you can have her.'
It was a defining moment and he was quick to recognise it as such. Kate Linnane was too shrewd not to notice the designs he had on Laura Tremaine but she was not ready to be supplanted yet. To show her resentment and to let Buckmaster see how indispensable she was to the company, Kate had conspired with her brother to prove her point. In pretending to be abducted, she had produced all manner of alarums and excursions in the company. Buckmaster had been forced to promote Laura Tremaine into a role for which she was plainly not yet ready. The new Lady Macbeth would have marred the evening's performance. At least, they had been rescued from that. Wanting to throttle Kate for the trouble and anxiety she had inflicted on him, Buckmaster instead embraced her warmly.
'Welcome back, my love!' he said, effusively. 'I knew in my heart that you'd never let us down. I was rightly chastised. Let's put all that behind us and give the audience a performance to remember.'
'Are we friends again?'
'We are and always will be, Kate, you wondrous creature!'
'Good,' she said, kissing him passionately. 'If you kill Duncan for me, you may find the door of my hotel room unlocked again tonight. That's the best place for us to settle our differences.'