may have had keys to the shop.’
‘He did,’ confirmed Voke. ‘He had to let himself in.’
‘Those keys have vanished. Inspector Colbeck, who is leading the investigation, sent me specifically to give you a warning. Look to your property, sir. It may be in danger.’
Robert Colbeck and Jeremiah Stockdale ended the day in the lounge of the Railway Hotel with a glass of malt whisky apiece. Before they compared notes about what they had learnt, Stockdale banged the arm of his chair with a fist and made his declaration.
‘I want this man caught and caught quickly, Inspector,’ he said. ‘I won’t tolerate murder in my town. I police Cardiff with a firm hand and villains fear me for that reason.’
‘Your reputation is well-earned, Superintendent, but why do you think the killer must be a man?’
‘It’s what you suggested. You felt that a woman was involved to lure Mr Kellow here but that she needed a male accomplice to do the deed itself. How else could it have happened?’
‘I’ve been mulling that over. The young woman could have been acting alone.’
Stockdale shook his head. ‘No, I refuse to believe that.’
‘Look at the way he was killed,’ said Colbeck. ‘He was struck on the head to daze him then acid was poured down his throat. Why choose that method? Remember that Mr Kellow was defenceless. A man would either have strangledhim or battered him to death. A woman, on the other hand, would be less likely to turn to violence.’
‘She could have stabbed him.’
‘Most women would draw back from that. No, I think that she deliberately selected acid and I’ll be interested to find out why. In doing so, of course, she does give us a definite line of enquiry.’
‘How did she get hold of it?’
‘Exactly,’ said Colbeck.
‘According to medical evidence, it was sulphuric acid.’
‘Do you have many chemists and druggists in Cardiff?’
‘Well over a dozen,’ replied Stockdale, ‘and many of them are in Butetown. There are people there who don’t ask questions of their customers. They just give them what they want. It’s the reason we had three poisonings in the district last year.’
‘Mr Pugh was warning me about the perils of Butetown.’
‘It can get lively,’ conceded Stockdale with a grin, ‘but that’s part of its charm. Archelaus Pugh wouldn’t venture anywhere near the docks without an armed guard but I know my way around. It was also the sight of one of my early triumphs. It must be almost fifteen years ago now,’ he recalled with a nostalgic smile. ‘A number of sea captains had been assaulted and robbed near the West Dock. So I dressed up as a sailor one night and acted as bait.’
‘That was a bold thing to do, Superintendent.’
‘Luckily, it worked. When I saw that three men were following me, I broke into a run and they gave chase. One of them was much faster than the others and got well clear of them. I stopped, punched him on the nose and knocked himto the floor. Seeing what I’d done, his friends turned tail.’
‘What happened to the man himself?’
‘I arrested him, charged him with robbery and sent him for trial. He was transported for seven years.’ He gave a throaty chuckle. ‘I was in court to savour the moment.’
‘I hope that we’ll both be able to savour the verdict that’s passed on the killer.’
‘Whether it’s a man or a woman,’ remarked Stockdale.
‘Or, indeed, both,’ said Colbeck. ‘If two people were involved, they are both culpable and will end up side by side on the gallows.’
‘It’s where they deserve to be, Inspector.’
Colbeck took another sip of his drink then told his friend about the conversation with Nigel Buckmaster. Stockdale listened intently. He was amused by what the actor had told him about identifying the dead body.
‘So he didn’t flinch, did he?’ he said. ‘Mr Buckmaster took one look at the body, nodded his head to signal that it was indeed Mr Kellow then rushed off to be sick
‘He did,’ confirmed Voke. ‘He had to let himself in.’
‘Those keys have vanished. Inspector Colbeck, who is leading the investigation, sent me specifically to give you a warning. Look to your property, sir. It may be in danger.’
Robert Colbeck and Jeremiah Stockdale ended the day in the lounge of the Railway Hotel with a glass of malt whisky apiece. Before they compared notes about what they had learnt, Stockdale banged the arm of his chair with a fist and made his declaration.
‘I want this man caught and caught quickly, Inspector,’ he said. ‘I won’t tolerate murder in my town. I police Cardiff with a firm hand and villains fear me for that reason.’
‘Your reputation is well-earned, Superintendent, but why do you think the killer must be a man?’
‘It’s what you suggested. You felt that a woman was involved to lure Mr Kellow here but that she needed a male accomplice to do the deed itself. How else could it have happened?’
‘I’ve been mulling that over. The young woman could have been acting alone.’
Stockdale shook his head. ‘No, I refuse to believe that.’
‘Look at the way he was killed,’ said Colbeck. ‘He was struck on the head to daze him then acid was poured down his throat. Why choose that method? Remember that Mr Kellow was defenceless. A man would either have strangledhim or battered him to death. A woman, on the other hand, would be less likely to turn to violence.’
‘She could have stabbed him.’
‘Most women would draw back from that. No, I think that she deliberately selected acid and I’ll be interested to find out why. In doing so, of course, she does give us a definite line of enquiry.’
‘How did she get hold of it?’
‘Exactly,’ said Colbeck.
‘According to medical evidence, it was sulphuric acid.’
‘Do you have many chemists and druggists in Cardiff?’
‘Well over a dozen,’ replied Stockdale, ‘and many of them are in Butetown. There are people there who don’t ask questions of their customers. They just give them what they want. It’s the reason we had three poisonings in the district last year.’
‘Mr Pugh was warning me about the perils of Butetown.’
‘It can get lively,’ conceded Stockdale with a grin, ‘but that’s part of its charm. Archelaus Pugh wouldn’t venture anywhere near the docks without an armed guard but I know my way around. It was also the sight of one of my early triumphs. It must be almost fifteen years ago now,’ he recalled with a nostalgic smile. ‘A number of sea captains had been assaulted and robbed near the West Dock. So I dressed up as a sailor one night and acted as bait.’
‘That was a bold thing to do, Superintendent.’
‘Luckily, it worked. When I saw that three men were following me, I broke into a run and they gave chase. One of them was much faster than the others and got well clear of them. I stopped, punched him on the nose and knocked himto the floor. Seeing what I’d done, his friends turned tail.’
‘What happened to the man himself?’
‘I arrested him, charged him with robbery and sent him for trial. He was transported for seven years.’ He gave a throaty chuckle. ‘I was in court to savour the moment.’
‘I hope that we’ll both be able to savour the verdict that’s passed on the killer.’
‘Whether it’s a man or a woman,’ remarked Stockdale.
‘Or, indeed, both,’ said Colbeck. ‘If two people were involved, they are both culpable and will end up side by side on the gallows.’
‘It’s where they deserve to be, Inspector.’
Colbeck took another sip of his drink then told his friend about the conversation with Nigel Buckmaster. Stockdale listened intently. He was amused by what the actor had told him about identifying the dead body.
‘So he didn’t flinch, did he?’ he said. ‘Mr Buckmaster took one look at the body, nodded his head to signal that it was indeed Mr Kellow then rushed off to be sick
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