‘He went to live in Wales with his wife, Mr Voke.’
‘His wife? I didn’t even know that he was married.’
‘There are lots of things you don’t know about him,’ said Tallis with a note of disapproval. ‘You turned him against you, Mr Voke. He only stayed here for the sake of his mother. When she died, your son had to get away. According to Sergeant Leeming, who met him and his wife today, he’s a reformed character. Stephen Voke has taken on the responsibilities of marriage and is working to develop his own career.’
Voke was stunned. Tallis thought for a moment that he was about to keel over. Eyes wide and mouth agape, the silversmith tried to take in the enormity of what he had been told. The son he had disowned had evidently matured and turned over a new leaf. Yet the assistant he had loved and relied on so heavily had committed the most horrendous crimes. It was a sobering moment. Voke realised that he had to take a major share of the blame for what had happened. In favouring Hugh Kellow, he had alienated his son to the point where Stephen wanted to blot out his past altogether.
‘Why didn’t he tell me he was getting married?’ muttered Voke.
‘He informed Sergeant Leeming that he didn’t think you’d be interested.’
‘Stephen is my son.’
‘Not any more, Mr Voke. He wants nothing to do with you.’
‘Have I really been that terrible?’ bleated the old man. ‘Both Stephen and Hugh have turned against me. Did I treat them badly enough to merit what’s happened?’
‘Only you can answer that question, sir,’ said Tallis.
Voke shook his head in wonderment. ‘So my son went back to Caerleon after all this time – fancy that.’
‘Make no attempt to get in touch with him. He was very firm on that point. He made Sergeant Leeming promise to pass on that message. Your son’s world is elsewhere now, sir. Don’t try to see him.’
‘Hugh is the person I want to see,’ said Voke, rising to his feet in a rage. ‘I did everything for him. I took him in, I apprenticed him, I taught him all I knew – and this is how he repays me. I’d like to throttle him, so help me God!’
‘Leave that duty to the public executioner.’
‘Do you know where he is, Superintendent?’
‘No, but we soon shall. He and his “sister” will be apprehended in the not too distant future.’
‘I want to see him when you catch him.’
‘Let justice take its course, Mr Voke.’
‘I deserve the right to get at him for two minutes.’
‘I can understand your feelings,’ said Tallis, ‘but you are letting your fury blind you to the obvious. Hugh Kellow is a young man with blood already on his hands. You are more advanced in years. It’s foolhardy to think that you could overpower him. No,’ he went on, ‘leave Mr Kellow to my detectives. Inspector Colbeck will find him.’
Robert Colbeck arrived at the house in Camden in time to act as an arbitrator. Having eaten supper with her father, Madeleine Andrews had cleared the table and washed the plates. When she came into the parlour, she found her father puffing on his pipe as he read Dombey and Son. There was a mild argument over the book. Madeleine wanted it back but Caleb Andrews refused to yield it up. Colbeck walked in on the domestic disagreement.
‘Tell him, Robert,’ said Madeleine, quick to enlist his aid. ‘You gave that book to me, didn’t you?’
‘’Yes,’ he replied, ‘but your father is welcome to read it as well.’
‘There you are!’ said Andrews with a cackle.
‘Though I’d assumed he’d have enough patience to wait until you’d read it first, Madeleine.’
‘Father just grabbed it when my back was turned.’
‘It’s your own fault, Maddy,’ Andrews pointed out. ‘You told me how wonderful the book was. I wanted to see what it says about Camden. I was here when the railway line was built. I remember the deafening noise and the terrible upset it caused.’
‘You’re the one causing the terrible upset now, Father.’
‘Why not take it in turns to read the novel?’ suggested Colbeck. ‘Mr Andrews is at work all day so you can pick it up whenever you have a moment, Madeleine. The only time he has a chance to read it is in the evenings.’
‘I suppose so,’ she conceded.
‘That’s settled then,’ said her father, getting up from his chair. ‘Anyway, you can’t read it while you have company, Maddy. I’ll finish this chapter in the kitchen.’
‘Before you go, Mr Andrews,’ said Colbeck, raising a hand, ‘I wanted a word. This is very unlikely to happen now but, if it did, could I have your permission to take Madeleine to the theatre?’
‘The answer is yes.’
‘I should warn you that the theatre is in Cardiff.’
‘Then the answer is no.’
‘Father!’ protested Madeleine.
‘I’m not having a daughter of mine travelling on the Great Western Railway,’ said Andrews, good-naturedly. ‘I know it links up with the South Wales Railway but that’s just as bad. Take Maddy somewhere on the LNWR instead.’
‘He was only joking,’ she said as her father went into the kitchen. ‘Now I have a chance to give you a proper welcome.’
Colbeck embraced her. ‘Isn’t this better than reading Charles Dickens?’ he said before giving her a kiss. ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘I’ve spent the whole day wondering where you were.’
‘We went to Gloucester, Chepstow, Newport and Caerleon,’ he said. ‘Then I sent Victor Leeming back to London and went on to Cardiff. It’s just as well that I like travelling by rail so much.’
‘Has the case been resolved?’
‘Not exactly, Madeleine – it’s taken a new twist.’
‘Do tell me about it.’
They sat beside each other and Colbeck recounted the events of the day. She was startled to hear that the real villain was Hugh Kellow and that the woman claiming to be his sister was equally culpable.
‘So who was the murder victim?’
‘A young man named Martin Henley,’ he said. ‘I’ve just come from the undertaker’s where I took his father to look at the body. He confirmed that it was his son. I’m sorry I’ve called at such a late hour but I’ve been rather busy since I got back to London.’
‘Call as late as you like, Robert.’
‘You might have gone to bed.’
‘Then throw stones at my window. You’re always welcome here.’ He hugged her again. ‘But don’t take Father’s side over that book next time. I want to read it.’
‘Would you rather be reading it now?’ They laughed.
She became serious. ‘Do you have any idea where they’ve gone?’
‘Not yet,’ he confessed.
‘They could have fled abroad.’
‘I think that’s very unlikely,’ he said. ‘They’d have much more difficulty getting established in a foreign country and they’d have to learn the language. That would be enough to deter them. No, I think they’ve gone to earth somewhere well outside London.’
‘They may be difficult to find, Robert.’
‘We found Stephen Voke and his wife.’
‘That was different – they were not in hiding.’
‘They were in a sense, Madeleine. They were in hiding from his father. After listening to some of the things that Mr Voke did to his son, I’m not surprised that he wanted to break off all communication with the old man. But I agree,’ he said, ‘Hugh Kellow has taken the trouble to muddy the waters. It won’t be easy to track him.’
‘Where will you start the search?’
‘In Mayfair – that’s where Effie Kellow worked.’
‘But you thought that she might be using a false name.’
‘I’m sure that she did.’