The Silver Locomotive Mystery by Edward Marston Page A

somewhere. He’d never make a policeman.’
    ‘Murder victims are never pretty.’
    ‘The ones hauled out of the River Taff are the worst. If they’ve been in there long enough, they’re bloated. I doubt if Mr Buckmaster would even dare to look at such horrors.’
    ‘The most useful thing he told me was that Mr Voke and his son had parted company.’
    ‘It sounds to me as if the son needs more than a passing glance,’ said Stockdale. ‘There must have been bad blood between him and Hugh Kellow. That gives us a motive.’
    ‘We’ll certainly bear him in mind,’ agreed Colbeck,‘though, in my experience, obvious suspects are often proved innocent.’
    Stockdale guffawed. ‘Not if they live in Butetown!’
    ‘What did you find out, Superintendent?’
    ‘Well, at least I discovered what was stolen,’ said the other, taking out the sketch and handing it over. ‘Mr Tomkins showed me this.’
    Colbeck unfolded the paper. ‘It’s a locomotive based on the Great Western Railway’s Firefly class,’ he said after only a glance. ‘It was designed by Daniel Gooch in 1840 and has proved a reliable workhorse. There are, however, some modifications. In some respects, it’s been simplified but there are also refinements that never existed on the original engine – that crown on the smokestack, for example.’
    ‘You seem very well-informed, Inspector.’
    ‘I’ve always loved trains.’
    ‘I thought I’d show this to every pawnbroker and silversmith in town just in case the killer is tempted to try and sell it.’
    Colbeck handed the sketch back. ‘I think that’s highly unlikely,’ he opined. ‘How did Mrs Tomkins respond to the news that her coffee pot has gone astray?’
    ‘She was livid,’ replied Stockdale with a scowl. ‘Nobody had told her that she ought to separate the message from the messenger. She more or less accused me of betraying her.’
    ‘Did she give you any names?’
    ‘Not at first – she refused to believe that anybody in her circle could be implicated in any way. It was only when I put it to her that one of them might inadvertently have passed on details of the coffee pot to someone else that she deigned tothink again. Mrs Tomkins eventually provided the names of two people with a particular interest in that silver coffee pot.’
    ‘Who are they?’
    ‘The first one is Martha Pryde – she’s the wife of Sir David Pryde, who owns the largest shipping line in Wales. Lady Pryde and Winifred Tomkins used to be very close but the frost seems to have got into that friendship. Heaven knows why,’ he went on. ‘I’d be interested to find out why the two of them fell out.’
    ‘Would it be relevant to the investigation?’
    ‘It could be, Inspector. Mrs Tomkins described Lady Pryde as acquisitive. I could add several other adjectives to that and none of them is very complimentary. Mrs Tomkins is only a well-bred harridan,’ he said, ‘whereas Lady Pryde is a venomous snake.’
    ‘What about Sir David?’
    ‘That’s the curious thing. When I was leaving, Mr Tomkins mentioned something that might have a bearing on the case.’
    Colbeck raised an eyebrow. ‘Well?’
    ‘Leonard Voke, the silversmith, was recommended to them by no less a person than Sir David Pryde.’
    ‘Links of the chain are starting to join up,’ said Colbeck, tasting more whisky. ‘It must have been very galling for Lady Pryde if her former friend was boasting about a coffee pot locomotive made by someone suggested to her by Lady Pryde’s own husband.’
    Stockdale chuckled. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘I can imagine that Sir David got a flea in his ear for making that recommendation. Of course, that was at a time when they were friendly withMr and Mrs Tomkins. Now they seem to be at daggers drawn. But,’ he added, ‘that’s not the only link in the chain. Another name was mentioned.’
    ‘Who was that?’
    ‘Miss Carys Evans.’
    ‘Do you know the lady?’
    ‘Every red-blooded man in Cardiff knows Miss