The Ledbury Lamplighters (13 page)

‘Well, no, I suppose that would be in order – anything I can do to assist you in the apprehension of this man.’

‘Good. Don’t worry, Mr Midwinter, we will see that your safe and its contents remain untouched. Now, if you would be so kind as to show us the rear entrance to your rooms, Constable Crabb and I will leave you to continue with your work. Before the day is out, we will have our killer under arrest! Of that I am sure.’

The town clock struck the hour of eleven.

‘I wish this fellow would hurry up and show himself,’ said Crabb irritably, stretching out his legs in the darkness of Midwinter’s office.

‘I do not think we will have much longer to wait. The town
seems almost at sleep,’ replied Ravenscroft, looking towards the corner of the window to where a solitary shimmer of light could be seen on the wet pavement lower down the street.

‘I wish old Midwinter had stoked up his fire before he left. It’s decidedly chilly in here,’ continued Crabb, drawing his coat closer around him and breathing on his cold hands in an attempt to bring back some warmth into his limbs.

‘The flames would have created too much light for our purpose. It is important that we remain still and quiet here in the dark so that our murderer believes that the office is empty, and is reassured in his resolution.’

‘Don’t see why we could not have opened the envelope, then we could have found out what all this is about.’

‘We have to respect Mr Midwinter’s position. He is under a legal and moral obligation to see that his client’s wishes are fulfilled, even if he believes that his client is deceased. Robertson was clearly running away from someone whom he believed was anxious to steal the contents of his envelope, which now lies in Midwinter’s safe. I still don’t see why the coachman came to Ledbury, and why he decided to leave the envelope with Midwinter of all people?’ said Ravenscroft, thrusting his hands once more into the pockets of his overcoat.

‘Why not just take it to Montacute?’

‘That was only his last resort. Robertson gave Midwinter instructions that the package should only be taken to the banker should he himself fail to return by 1 May. Clearly he hoped to return some time before that date and recover the envelope.’

‘It’s all a mystery to me, sir.’

‘I hope that things will become a little clearer once we have caught our man and taken the envelope to Maurice Montacute to open. Perhaps we might then also learn why the old banker was poisoned, and what part his death plays in all this affair.’

‘Which way in do you think our intruder will use, sir?’

‘The front entrance faces directly on to the street, and although there appears to be no one about, there is always the chance that he would be observed. No, I think he will break in through the back door. The yard there leads off a dark alleyway. I doubt that anyone would see him come in that way.’

‘Just wish he would get on with it,’ muttered Crabb, watching his
warm breath drifting up towards the ceiling through the cold air.

‘Here, Tom, take a sip of this to keep you warm,’ said Ravenscroft, passing over a small metal flask in the dark.

‘Bless you, sir,’ said Crabb, gratefully accepting the offering.

‘Shush! I think I heard something.’

‘What, sir?’

‘A door! I think I heard the sound of a door being forced,’ whispered Ravenscroft. ‘Keep absolutely still, Crabb, until I give the word.’

The two men stood in silence as Ravenscroft strained to hear the almost inaudible sound of approaching footsteps drawing nearer towards the room. The only thing he could see in the darkness was the dim outline of his constable.

As the footsteps appeared to draw closer, he was aware of the rapid beating of his heart. His chest began to tighten and he fought to suppress the beginning of an irritable cough which threatened to break the silence.

Slowly the old oak door opened, inch by inch, creaking as it did so.

A tall, dark figure emerged into the room. Ravenscroft strained to catch a glimpse of the intruder but could see nothing of the man’s face underneath the hat that was pulled down low, obscuring his features. The man stood on the threshold of the office, then paused for a moment before crossing over to the window. Confident that there was no one in the street outside, he began to make his way across the room.

Ravenscroft watched as the intruder knelt before the safe and began to force open the lock.

‘Now, Tom. Grab him!’ shouted Ravenscroft, rushing towards the intruder.

‘I’ve got him, sir!’ replied Crabb.

In his haste to assist his constable, Ravenscroft collided with a chair in the dark of the room and fell to the floor. When he looked up he saw the outlines of Crabb and another figure locked in combat. ‘Keep hold of him, Tom!’ yelled Ravenscroft, attempting to get to his feet.

Suddenly a shot rang out in the darkened room.

Then Ravenscroft felt himself being violently thrust up against the desk as the blackened figure darted quickly past him and out of
the room. He struggled quickly to his feet and called out, ‘Tom! Tom! Where the devil are you? Are you all right?’

But there was no reply from his constable.

Shortly after eleven o’clock on the morning following the dramatic events at Midwinter’s offices, Ravenscroft made his slow way along Westminster Road in the area known as Malvern Wells, situated some seven or eight miles from the town of Ledbury. Pausing for a while to steady his breathing after the climb up on to the upper road, the detective shaded his eyes from the bright winter sun that shone down on the white fields that stretched out from the easterly range of the hills. The overnight fall of snow and the resulting early morning frost had made the roads treacherous, and Ravenscroft had abandoned his cab down on the Wells Road, giving instructions to the cabman that he was to return and collect him within one hour. Now, as he stood looking out at the snowy landscape, at the stillness and quiet of the scene, feelings of despair and loneliness seemed to overwhelm him. Apprehending Robertson’s killer and being able to solve the murder of Nathaniel Montacute had all been within his grasp. Today he and Crabb should have had the man safely behind bars. The mystery would have been solved. The case put to rest. But in his haste he had tripped over that damn chair, and their intruder had escaped in the ensuing struggle. Now he was no further forward with his investigations than he had been a few days previously. The killer was out there somewhere, and Ravenscroft still had no idea who he was and where he could be found. He was more than aware,
however, that he had been negligent in his duty. He should have made better precautions to see that the man had been secured. Worst of all, he had let Crabb down.

The envelope now seemed the only way forward. The intruder had risked everything in a desperate attempt to retrieve the package. At least he had not been successful in his endeavour. The envelope still lay within the solicitor’s safe, and Ravenscroft had posted two of his men within Midwinter’s office to deter any future raid, before he had left earlier that morning. At least he had been able to convince the old solicitor that the contents of the envelope should be revealed as soon as possible and had urged him to make an appointment with Maurice Montacute at the bank so that they might all open the package together – but even here, he had been frustrated, for he had learnt that the banker had left the town on the early London train and would not be returning until the following day.

Reluctantly, he continued his steady progress along the road, the noise of his boots bearing down on the crisp snow being the only sound to accompany him. After passing by several buildings, he opened the gate of a small white-painted cottage and paused for a brief moment before bringing his hand down on the front door.

‘Oh, Mr Ravenscroft, you best come in out of the cold,’ said a young rosy-cheeked woman, opening the door.

‘Thank you, Jennie. How is Tom this morning?’ he said, stepping into the hallway.

‘Is that you, sir?’ called a voice from the inner room. Ravenscroft handed his coat and hat to the woman, relieved to hear the sound of his constable’s familiar tones.

‘Do please go in,’ said Jennie.

Ravenscroft walked into the inner room. A blazing fire in the hearth welcomed him. Crabb, wearing night attire under a large dressing gown, and sporting a bandage secured round the top part of his head, was seated in an old chair before the fire.

‘My dear Tom, you do not know how pleased I am to see you again this morning,’ said Ravenscroft, eagerly shaking his constable’s hand. ‘For one dreadful moment last night, I thought that blaggard had killed you!’

‘Take more than a stray bullet to see me off, sir. We Crabbs are made of sterner stuff.’

‘And how are you feeling this morning?’ asked Ravenscroft, accepting the chair that Crabb’s wife offered to him.

‘Head feels a bit sore sir, but other than a slight headache, doctor says I should be fine in a day or so.’

‘You had a lucky escape, Tom. Another inch and the result could have been entirely different. I’m so sorry, Tom. I should have had him but in my haste I fell over that damned chair.’

‘Not your fault, sir. It was very dark in that room.’

‘Nevertheless, I feel responsible. I should have realized the chair was there. I didn’t know the fellow would come armed. He was evidently quite desperate to recover those papers. I don’t suppose you got a look at him at all?’ asked Ravenscroft, stretching out his hands towards the fire and rubbing them together.

‘I’m afraid not, sir. It was so dark in there and his face was partially covered by his hat. I would say he was fairly tall and of thin stature, probably around forty years or so.’

‘I didn’t catch much of a look at him, but I am inclined to agree with you, Tom.’

‘There was something though, sir. Although the villain did not seem like any of our suspects in this case, he did remind me of someone.’

‘Go on Tom,’ said Ravenscroft eagerly.

‘Well, sir, there was just something about the fellow which kind of reminded me of someone we have encountered in the past – but I’m afraid I can’t for the life of me remember who.’

‘Don’t worry, Tom. It may come back to you,’ said Ravenscroft, leaning forward and patting Crabb on the shoulder. ‘I have no doubt that the intruder was the same man we encountered in the wood near Catherwood’s place and the man we saw at Montacute’s funeral. He seems a very slippery customer, as well as being a master of disguise. I have instructed the men in both Ledbury and Malvern to keep a sharp lookout for anyone of his description or anyone acting suspiciously, but I would not be surprised if he has gone to ground. We are evidently dealing with a very dangerous and clever individual.’

‘All the more reason to see what is inside that envelope,’ suggested Crabb.

‘Indeed, Tom. Unfortunately Maurice Montacute is in London until tomorrow, and Midwinter, quite correctly, won’t open the
packet until he returns, so I’m afraid we will have to wait for a day or so more before the envelope yields up its secrets.’

‘What will we do now, sir?’

‘You, Tom, will do nothing but rest in front of this warm fire, for the next two days at least. I will not allow you back on duty until the doctor says you are well enough to resume work.’

‘I feel fine now, sir,’ protested Crabb, attempting to move from his seat.

‘That’s as may be, but you have had a very nasty shock and come within an inch of your life. Tell him, Jennie, that he is to stay indoors.’

‘I’ve done that already, Mr Ravenscroft. I have done everything within my power to get him to sit in that chair but he keeps saying he must be about his duty,’ said Jennie Crabb, shaking her head.

‘Constable Crabb, I am ordering you to at least obey your wife, even if you will not accept the advice of a colleague. You should listen to your wife. Wives always know what is best for us, even if we are not prepared to acknowledge such a fact.’

‘Very well, sir,’ replied Crabb somewhat reluctantly.

‘Good,’ said Ravenscroft, rising from his chair.

‘You will take a drink with us, sir, before you leave?’ enquired Jennie.

‘I have a cab returning for me down on the Wells Road at twelve,’ said Ravenscroft, consulting his pocket watch. ‘A warm drink will be more than welcome on such a cold day as this.’

Two hours later, Ravenscroft walked up the long drive towards The Gables, deep in thought, his mind going over the events of the previous two days, and not knowing why he had decided on his present course of action. As he neared the house, a familiar figure came towards him.

‘Good afternoon, Doctor Andrews.’

‘Good day to you, Ravenscroft. How is Constable Crabb today?’

‘I visited him this morning and he seems in remarkably good spirits, thank you,’ replied Ravenscroft.

‘The man is lucky to be alive. A good job the bullet just grazed the side of his head. He should be fine in a day or so.’

‘It was fortunate that you were able to attend to him.’

‘Glad to have been of service. What brings you to The Gables on
such a day?’

‘I was hoping to have another word with Mrs Montacute. How is your other patient?’

‘She is bearing up, under the circumstances. All this has been rather a shock for her, as I’m sure you will appreciate. Now if you will excuse me.’

‘Of course, Doctor – and thank you once again.’

The two men went their separate ways. Ravenscroft rang the bell at the side of the door.

‘Good morning, sir. Can I help you?’ said the maid, opening the door.

‘Inspector Ravenscroft. I would like a few words with your mistress, if you please.’

‘Yes, sir. If you would care to wait here, sir, in the hall, I will see whether Mrs Montacute is able to see you.’

‘Thank you,’ said Ravenscroft, handing his overcoat and hat to the servant.

After a minute, the maid returned. ‘If you would follow me, sir, Mrs Montacute will see you now.’

Ravenscroft followed the maid into the drawing-room. Edith Montacute rose from one of the chairs as he entered. Ravenscroft observed that the widow was still wearing the same mourning clothes she had worn the previous day. ‘Mr Ravenscroft, do take a seat. You have news of my husband’s murderer?’ she asked anxiously.

‘Our investigations are still continuing. Last night my constable and I attempted to make an arrest concerning the murder of the man Robertson, but I’m afraid the villain absconded before we could apprehend him,’ replied Ravenscroft, looking down at the floor.

‘You think the death of my husband and this man Robertson are connected in some way, Inspector?’

‘We believe that is a strong possibility, Mrs Montacute. Your husband never mentioned to you that he had any dealings with a man called Robertson?’

‘I do not believe so. The name is unfamiliar to me.’

‘Of course. Your late husband has provided well for you under the terms of his will?’ said Ravenscroft, tentatively changing the subject.

‘He has been most generous, yes, but I would rather that he was still with us,’ replied Edith, forcing a brief smile.

‘I assure you that you have our deepest sympathy in this matter. However, do you not find it somewhat strange, Mrs Montacute, that Nathaniel should have left you everything in his will, almost to the total exclusion of his two sons?’ said Ravenscroft, coming straight to the point and anxious to observe the widow’s reaction to his question.

‘If you are implying that I influenced my husband in some way to draw up a new will in my favour then I can assure you that you are incorrect in that assumption. I was not even aware that my husband had drawn up a new will,’ replied Edith firmly.

‘Nevertheless, you would agree that the terms of the will were particularly unfavourable to your late husband’s two sons?’

‘I much regret that. Had I known that Nathaniel was drawing up his will, I would have urged him to have made better provision for his sons.’

‘Mr Maurice Montacute has been left his father’s share of the bank, that is all,’ stated Ravenscroft, observing that his hostess was becoming unsettled by his questions.

‘Indeed so, but I would have wished that Nathaniel had left this house and his investments to Maurice. It is more than his right. I know that he was very upset when the will was read yesterday, and I tried to speak with him afterwards, and indeed before he left for London this morning, but he was not available to see me.’

‘And Rupert has been ill provided for,’ added Ravenscroft.

‘You are no doubt aware, Inspector, that my late husband and his youngest son were not on the best of terms. I know that Nathaniel was greatly concerned over the welfare of Rupert.’

‘Yet he made no provision?’

‘As I said, Inspector, had I known at the time of my husband’s intention, I would have urged him on a different course of action. I will see that Rupert will want for nothing, you have my assurance on that point.’

‘Can you tell me how you and Mr Montacute first met?’ asked Ravenscroft, changing his line of questioning yet again.

‘We met at a hotel in Rome. But you know this already,’ replied Edith.

Ravenscroft thought he could detect a note of irritation creeping
into her voice. ‘You were alone there at the time?’ he asked.

‘I was with my mother. My father had recently died, leaving my mother and myself quite alone in the world. He left us well provided for, so you see I have no need of Nathaniel’s money. I have no other brothers or sisters. My mother and I had decided to visit Rome to see the antiquities – it had always been a particular wish on my mother’s part.’

‘You lived in Cheshire, I believe? Your mother still lives there now?’

‘The Henshaws of Nantwich in Cheshire have always been a prominent family in the county. Unfortunately my mother died last year,’ replied Edith, tears beginning to form in her eyes.

‘I am sorry.’

‘So you see, Inspector, I am now quite alone in this world – first my parents and now Nathaniel. There is no one that I can turn to for consolation,’ she said, looking deep into Ravenscroft’s eyes.

‘Forgive me, my dear lady,’ said Ravenscroft, feeling uncomfortable and realizing that his questions were beginning to cause distress. ‘I am sure that in time—’

‘You are going to say, Mr Ravenscroft, that I am still young, that I have my whole life ahead of me, and that I might well marry again at some future date – but I can assure you that Nathaniel was the great love of my life. I would not seek anyone else to take his place.’

‘I understand,’ said Ravenscroft, rising from his seat, leaning forward and kissing the outstretched hand. ‘Thank you for answering my questions. Rest assured, my lady, that our investigations will continue until the murderer of your husband is brought to justice.’

‘That is some comfort, Inspector,’ replied Edith, wiping away a tear.

Ravenscroft left the room and made his way along the hallway towards the front door.

‘Begging your pardon, sir, before you go Mrs Chambers would like a word with you – if you would care to come with me, sir?’

Ravenscroft followed the maid down the steps to the kitchens, where he found the cook pacing up and down. ‘Oh, Mr Ravenscroft, it’s Master Rupert!’ she said in an agitated state, coming forward to meet him.