The Silver Locomotive Mystery by Edward Marston Page B

it on show the day after it arrived,’ she told him. ‘We were all invited to the celebration. I gave a polite refusal but Lady Pryde, I suspect,was a trifle more blunt.’ She offered him a radiant smile. ‘To answer the question you came here to ask, Inspector Colbeck,’ she continued, smoothly, ‘I was one of several people who knew the day and the time when that silver coffee pot would steam into Cardiff General Station. You’ll have a lot of calls to make if you wish to speak to every one of us.’

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Because of his dislike of travelling by train, all journeys on the iron way were a severe trial for Victor Leeming. None, however, had been as boring, uncomfortable and seemingly interminable as the one between Paddington and Cardiff that day. When he had made the same trip with Colbeck the previous afternoon, the inspector had helped to defeat time with conversation about the case in hand. No such diversion was open to Leeming on this occasion. His companion did not say a single word. Effie Kellow sat hunched in a corner of the compartment, her eyes vacant and her mind preoccupied. Whenever they stopped at a station, she did not even toss a glance out of the window. As a result, Leeming had to remain silent for the whole journey, feeling every jolt and judder of the train, listening to the snores of the elderly gentleman who sat beside him, and fearing that he would not be at home with his family that night.
    When they finally reached their destination, he got swiftlyonto the platform, one hand on his stomach to keep at bay the travel sickness that threatened. Effie followed him. To his amazement, she was ready to talk to him now.
    ‘Where are we going, Sergeant?’ she asked.
    ‘To the Railway Hotel,’ he replied.
    ‘Is that where Hugh…where it happened?’
    ‘Yes, Miss Kellow. It’s also where Inspector Colbeck is staying and you’ll need to speak to him before you’re allowed to see the body.’
    She looked anxious. ‘He won’t try to stop me, will he?’
    ‘I don’t think so.’
    ‘Mr Dalrymple said I was entitled as next of kin.’
    ‘That’s true.’
    ‘Then why do I have to speak to Inspector Colbeck?’
    ‘He’s in charge of the investigation.’
    ‘Has he caught the man who killed my brother yet?’
    ‘I think that highly unlikely, Miss Kellow,’ said Leeming, ‘but we will certainly do so in the fullness of time. The inspector will leave no stone unturned to find the person we’re looking for.’
    They joined the passengers thronging around the exit, the fierce hubbub making any further conversation difficult. Though he was barely ten years older, Leeming felt more like a parent to her and had a father’s reluctance to expose her to anything as unpleasant as viewing the corpse of a murder victim. Yet Effie had a kind of inner strength which had made her insist on coming to Cardiff and he hoped that it would sustain her through the ordeal.
    ‘Have you been to Wales before?’ he asked.
    ‘I haven’t been anywhere,’ she said, dully.
    ‘Where were you born?’
    ‘Watford – we moved to London when I was a child and I’ve been there ever since. Hugh was going to take me to Margate this year,’ she went on, brightening momentarily. Her face crumpled. ‘That won’t happen now. I’d always wanted to go to Margate.’
    ‘It sounds as if he really looked after you, Miss Kellow.’
    ‘Oh, he did, sir. Hugh was much more than a brother to me.’
    Leeming wondered how she would cope without him. Her future was bleak. Effie Kellow seemed doomed to spend the rest of her life in service. With the death of her brother, her one real escape route had been blocked. For such an attractive woman, there was the possibility of marriage but it would only to be to someone on the same social level. The one consolation was that, according to her, Effie had a very considerate employer. Leeming knew of many cases where rapacious householders had taken advantage of female members of