‘Can I help you?’ asked Effie.
‘I saw that notice on the shutters,’ said Madeleine, injecting a note of humility into her voice. ‘You want a servant.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Could I have the details, please?’
‘We’re not offering accommodation,’ said Effie, enjoying the feeling of superiority she now had as an employer. ‘We simply need someone to come in each day to clean and help with the cooking.’
‘That would suit me, Mrs…’
‘Mrs Vernon. My husband is a silversmith. I should warn you that he hates being disturbed when he’s working. Whoever we employ would have to bear that in mind.’
‘I’ll do whatever I’m told, Mrs Vernon.’
‘You don’t sound as if you come from Birmingham.’
‘No,’ said Madeleine, inventing the details. ‘I was born in London but, when my father died, Mother and I moved here. We live with my aunt not far away so I’ve been looking for some time for work in the area.’ She glanced at the shutters. ‘The shop is not yet open, I see.’
‘No, we’ve only just moved in.’
‘Have you come far, Mrs Vernon?’
‘Far enough,’ replied Effie, guardedly. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Madeleine Andrews.’
‘Have you been in service before, Miss Andrews?’
‘I worked as a parlour maid in London.’
‘Which part of London?’
‘How well do you know the city, Mrs Vernon?’
‘I know it well enough.’
‘I worked in a house near Piccadilly for some years,’ said Madeleine, sensing that she might well be talking to Effie. ‘I only left there when Father died and we had to move. My mother was born in Birmingham and she’d always wanted to come back here one day.’
‘I see.’
‘My parents had a little house in Camden but it had too many sad memories for Mother. She had to leave so I gave in my notice. I’m not afraid of hard work, I can tell you that.’
‘Good.’
‘Which part of London did you live in, Mrs Vernon?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Do you know Camden at all?’
Effie was abrupt. ‘I’ll have to discuss this with my husband.’
‘Is he at home at the moment?’
‘Yes, but he’s very busy. I can’t bother him now.’ She looked Madeleine up and down. ‘Can you give me an address where we can reach you?’
‘I can always come back tomorrow, if you like,’ Madeleine offered. ‘You’ll have had time to talk to your husband by then.’
Effie’s manner changed. ‘There’s no need for that, Miss Andrews,’ she said, dismissively. ‘I can see that you’re not really suitable for us. Good day to you.’
Giving her a cold smile, Effie closed the door and locked it before Madeleine had time to give any signal. Effie ran along the passageway to the workroom and burst in.
‘I’m worried, Hugh,’ she said, glancing over her shoulder.
‘Why – who was it?’
‘It was a young woman called Miss Andrews. She said that she’s come about the advertisement but she didn’t look like a servant to me. Then there was the other thing.’
He got to his feet. ‘What other thing?’
‘She asked too many questions. She wanted to know where I’d lived in London and if you were at home. There was something odd about her, Hugh.’
‘Which way did she go?’
‘I didn’t see – I shut the door in her face.’
‘There’s nothing to be alarmed about,’ he told her, putting a hand under her chin and brushing her lips with his own. ‘Nobody knows we’re here and they never will.’
‘I’d feel a lot safer if you take a look at her.’
‘Very well – but she’s probably gone by now!’
Going to the door, he unlocked it and stepped out into the street. Effie went after him. Several people were walking past in both directions but it was the man and the woman conversing a little distance away who interested him.
‘Is that her, Effie?’ he asked, pointing.
‘Yes,’ she said, starting to panic. ‘And I know the man’s she’s talking to – it’s Inspector Colbeck. They’ve found us, Hugh!’
He was horrified. ‘How could they?’
‘What do we do?’
‘Get back inside quickly.’
They darted back into the house as Colbeck started to run towards them. Pushing home the bolts, Kellow locked the door then ran up the stairs to retrieve his pistol. He thrust it into his belt. Effie, meanwhile, was grabbing her coat and hat. Kellow pounded down the stairs, unlocked the safe and reached in to take out large wads of banknotes. He stuffed some into his pockets and handed the rest to Effie. They could hear Colbeck ringing the bell and banging on the door. There was no time to waste. Kellow opened the back door and led Effie into the little garden. When they reached the fence, he bent down and hoisted her up without ceremony, hoping that she would climb over to the lane beyond. Instead she let out a loud screech. Waiting for her on the other side of the fence was Victor Leeming.
‘Hello, Effie,’ he said, raising his hat, ‘remember me?’
* * *
After failing to break open the door with his shoulder, Colbeck turned his attention to the shutters. There was a small gap between them that allowed him to take a firm grip on the timber with both hands. Putting one foot against the wall, he pulled hard. The shutters began to creak and splinter then, as he gave one final heave, the lock burst and they flapped open like the wings of some gigantic bird. Colbeck did not hesitate. Whisking off his hat, he used it to protect his face from the shards that flew everywhere when he kicked in the shop window. The noise brought people running. Madeleine was part of a gathering crowd that watched him clamber into the property.
Colbeck cut his hand in the process but ignored the pain and the trickle of blood. He looked into the empty workroom then went on into the parlour. Through the window, he could see into the back garden. Victor Leeming had climbed over the fence and was being held at gunpoint by Hugh Kellow who had one arm around Effie. The couple were backing towards the house. Colbeck was unarmed but he saw something that might offer him some protection. It was the silver coffee pot, gleaming proudly on the sideboard. He picked it up, went into the kitchen and out into the garden.
‘Good afternoon, Mr Vernon,’ he said smoothly, causing both Kellow and Effie to swing round in alarm. ‘I’ve just been admiring the locomotive you made when your name was Hugh Kellow.’
‘Put that down!’ snarled Kellow, waving the pistol at him.
‘You wouldn’t dare fire at me, sir, surely? There’s a good chance you might hit this coffee pot and damage the silver. You don’t want that to happen, do you? Consider something else. The bullet could ricochet off anywhere. It might even kill one of you.’
‘Stay back!’ ordered Kellow, then he turned to face Leeming who had been creeping forward. ‘That goes for you as well.’
Leeming held his ground. ‘You can’t shoot both of us with a single bullet, sir, and you’d never have time to reload.’
‘Besides,’ said Colbeck, ‘there’s been enough killing already. Mr Henley was not your only victim.’
Effie was aghast. ‘How do you know about Martin?’
‘We know far more than you think, Miss Haggs,’ he told her. ‘We know, for instance, that when you’d been to London with Constable Roberts, you didn’t take a cab to Mayfair. You went straight back to Cardiff to act as an accomplice. But there’s something that you ought to know as well. Indirectly, Mr Kellow caused another death. Leonard Voke committed suicide.’