Edward Marston - The Silver Locomotive mystery

'What about me, Inspector?' asked Leeming.

'You must go straight back to London,' said Colbeck, 'but I'm not sending you there simply to spend the night with your wife. You must call on Leonard Voke as a matter of urgency, acquaint him with the details of this sorry business and find out who else knew that his assistant would be travelling to Cardiff today with an item of great value in his possession. Oh, there's one other thing, Victor.'

'Is there?'

'Warn him.'

'You think that he's in danger?'

'No,' replied Colbeck, 'but his stock may be at risk. Since he was given the important task of delivering that coffee pot, Hugh Kellow was obviously a trusted employee. He would almost certainly have had keys to the silversmith's premises. Tell Mr Voke that they are missing.'

Madeleine Andrews was so engrossed in studying her sketchbook that she did not even hear the familiar footsteps on the pavement outside the little house in Camden. When her father let himself in, therefore, she looked up in alarm as if an intruder had just burst upon her. She smiled with relief at the sight of Caleb Andrews, back home from another day as a driver on the London and North West Railway.

'You took me by surprise, Father,' she said.

'It's not often I do that, Maddie,' he said, taking off his coat and cap before hanging them on the back of the door. 'In any case, I'm the one who should be surprised. I was expecting to find the place empty. You were going out with Inspector Colbeck this evening.'

'Robert sent a note to cancel the arrangement.'

'Did he give a reason?'

'He had to go to Cardiff at short notice.'

'That means the Great Western Railway,' said Andrews with a sneer, 'and Brunel's Great Big Mistake of installing a broad gauge. If only he'd had the sense to use a standard gauge on his track, life would be so much simpler for all of us.'

'That's one way of looking at it,' she said.

'It's the only way, Maddie.'

'Mr Brunel would argue that the LNWR and other companies were at fault when they chose a narrower gauge. If everyone else had fallen into line behind him, there'd be no argument.'

'Stop provoking me.'

'I was trying to see it from his point of view.'

'In this house,' he declared, stamping a foot, 'Isambard Kingdom Brunel doesn't have a point of view. I work for a rival company.'

'Then I won't show you this,' she said, closing her sketchbook.

'What was it?'

'A sketch I made of a locomotive in the Firefly class.'

'That's one of Daniel Gooch's designs,' he said with grudging admiration. 'It's a good, reliable engine and it's stayed in service. The train that took Inspector Colbeck to Wales might even have been from the Firefly class. You should be drawing our locomotives,' he added with sudden petulance, 'not those of our competitors.'

'I draw what catches my eye, Father.'

Putting her sketchbook aside, she got up and went into the kitchen to set out their supper on the table. She was disappointed that Robert Colbeck was unable to see her that evening but she was accustomed to such last-minute changes of plan. He worked long and uncertain hours at Scotland Yard. Close friendship with the Railway Detective meant that she had to tolerate his sudden departures and unforeseen commitments. Madeleine had her work to console her. It was Colbeck who had discovered her artistic talent and encouraged her to develop it to the point where it began to have commercial value. Not for her the tranquil landscapes and dainty water colours of other female artists. Her subject was the railway system and in her father, who had spent a whole working life on it, and Robert Colbeck, who was its devotee, she had two continual sources of inspiration.

When he drifted into the kitchen, Andrews was smoking his pipe. He was a short, sinewy man in his fifties with a wispy beard salted with grey. His workmates knew him for his irascibility but he tended to mellow when at home. Since the death of his wife, his daughter had taken care of him, feeding him, nurturing him and keeping him from despair. As he watched her now, bending over the table, he was reminded so vividly of his wife that his eyes moistened. Madeleine had the same quietly attractive features, the same clear complexion and the same auburn hair. He had to remind himself how different they really were in character. Madeleine was far more gifted, more assertive and more self-possessed. She could set her sights on something higher than being the wife of a railwayman.

Halfway through the meal, Andrews broached the topic.

'Has the Inspector said anything?' he asked, gently.

'Robert has said lots of things. He's very talkative.'

'You know what I mean, Maddie.'

'I'm sure that I don't,' she said, briskly, reaching for her teacup. 'What sort of a day have you had?'

'The kind of day that I always have,' he replied. 'It was long and tiring. Now don't try to avoid the question.'

'I'm avoiding nothing, Father.'

'Well?'

'Eat your food.'

'I'm waiting for an answer.'

'Robert and I are good friends.'

'You always say that.'

'Then why don't you believe me?'

'Because you've been saying it for years now, Maddie,' he went on. 'People are beginning to pass remarks about the two of you.'

'Well, they'd better not do so to my face,' she warned with a show of temper worthy of her father, 'or they'll get more than they bargained for! I'm surprised you listen to worthless tittle-tattle.'

'They're bound to wonder – and so am I.'

She took a deep breath. 'Robert and I have an understanding,' she explained, trying to rein in her irritation. 'You need have no fears about him, I promise you. He's a perfect gentleman.'

Andrews gave her time to calm down. There was an obvious bond between Colbeck and his daughter but it vexed him that he did not comprehend its true nature. In the normal course of events, an engine driver's daughter would never have the opportunity to befriend a detective inspector, especially one who had enjoyed a career as a barrister before joining the Metropolitan Police Force. All three of them had been thrown together by a dramatic turn of events. During a daring robbery of a train that Andrews had been driving, he had been badly injured and there had been a string of related crimes. Colbeck had not only solved them, he had rescued Madeleine when she was abducted by the men responsible for the robbery in which her father had almost died. Drawn together by adversity, Colbeck and Madeleine had something far more than a friendship yet somewhat less than a formal betrothal. While she was happy to accept the situation for what it was, her father was not. He waited until the meal was over before he returned to the delicate subject.

'I'm your father, Maddie,' he said, softly. 'It's my duty to look after you. I know that you look after me most of the time,' he went on with a chortle, 'but this is different. I have a responsibility.'

'I've told you before, father. You can rest easy.'

'You don't want to be stuck here with me forever.'

'I'll do what I feel is right.'

Andrews was tentative. 'Is it to do with his job?' he wondered. 'I know that it's dangerous work and that he has to work even longer hours than I do. Perhaps he thinks it would be unfair on you to ask you to be his -'

'That's enough,' she said, interrupting him. 'I don't wish to end the day with an argument.'

'I'm not arguing, Maddie. I have your best interests at heart.'

She heaved a sighed. 'I know, Father.'

'I'm bound to feel uneasy at the way things are.'

'Well, you have no cause.' She got up and cleared away the dishes before turning to face him. Folding her arms, she weighed her words with care. 'All I can tell you is this – and it's strictly for your ears only. I don't want any more gossip about us.'