by Kerry Tombs
‘Don’t like banks, sir,’ muttered Crabb.
‘Why ever not?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘Don’t know, sir. It must be the thought of all that money. It makes me feel uneasy.’
Ravenscroft smiled, as the clerk returned.
‘Mr Chase will see you now. If you would care to follow me, gentlemen.’
They followed the clerk across the foyer, and along a corridor, until they reached an open door.
‘Do come in, gentlemen,’ said a voice from inside.
Crabb and Ravenscroft entered the room. They were met by a grey-haired man, of rotund appearance.
‘Do please be seated, gentlemen. How may I be of assistance to you?’
‘I am Inspector Ravenscroft and this is my colleague Constable Crabb. We are investigating the deaths of several prominent citizens of Malvern, and believe you may be able to assist us in our enquiries.’
‘Yes, a terrible business, I was at the inquest the other day, but I was under the impression that you had apprehended the murderer, a blind beggar was it not?’ replied the manager shaking his head and adopting a mournful disposition.
‘We have since then eliminated the beggar from our list of suspects.’
‘I see.’
‘Mr Chase, we believe that three of our victims were associated with the bank in some way,’ said Ravenscroft. ‘Iach of them possessed one of these walking sticks with the initials M.W.B. on them,’ he said, passing over the stick to Chase to inspect.
‘I have seen this kind of walking stick before, although I cannot remember the circumstances. Perhaps one of the gentlemen may have shown it to me upon one occasion, but certainly I cannot recall that they did so.’
‘Can you tell me whether any, or indeed all, of the deceased men were members of the bank?’ asked Ravenscroft.
Chase thought hard for a while.
‘Mr Chase, this is a murder inquiry. Anything you tell us concerning the bank and its customers, will I assure you, be treated with the utmost confidence.’
‘I believe that both Mr Sommersby and Mr Pitzer were customers of the bank, but I do not recall Doctor Gladwyn being one. Certainly Mr Pitzer conducted a lot of his personal and business interests through the bank,’ said Chase, handing the stick back to Ravenscroft.
‘You say they were just customers of the bank? So not one of the three gentlemen played any prominent role in the life of the bank?’ asked Ravenscroft, feeling somewhat frustrated that his new line of enquiry appeared to be going nowhere.
‘No. I’m sorry I cannot help you further.’
Ravenscroft rose from his chair. ‘Thank you, Mr Chase. May I ask how long you have been manager of the bank?’
‘About twenty years.’
‘And when was the bank founded?’
‘1857 — thirty years ago. We always remember that because the date is engraved above the front door. You may have noticed it when you entered the building,’ replied Chase.
‘Do you know who owns the bank — or who the original founders were?’
‘That I do not know. All I am aware of is that we have no shareholders, and so no dividends are paid out each year. The money is simply re-invested in the finances of the bank.’
‘Does that not strike you as odd, Mr Chase?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘It is a little unusual I must admit, but not entirely without precedent. I have known several companies and financial institutions that have what is known as “sleeping partners” on their boards.’
‘But surely these so-called “sleeping partners” are used to drawing a dividend? What is unusual in your situation, it seems to me, is that no one claims their dividends. The bank must be in a strong financial position by now, as a consequence, of all this reinvestment?’ asked Ravenscroft, warming to his subject.
‘You are correct in that assumption, although of course I cannot disclose any figures.’
‘Do you have any documents relating to the foundation?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘No. I’m afraid not. I do remember, however, someone saying, shortly after my arrival here, that all the material relating to the early days of the bank had recently been removed.’
‘Removed? Where to, Mr Chase?’
‘I believe they were taken to the Malvern Library and Reading Rooms for safe storage’
‘Did that strike you as being somewhat odd, sir?’ asked Crabb, writing in his pocket book.
‘No, not really. I understand that many of the archives relating to various concerns in the town have been lodged with Mr Clifford for safe custody, should they need to be consulted at any time in the future.’
‘Thank you again, Mr Chase, you have been most informative,’ said Ravenscroft, shaking the manager’s hand.
‘I wish you well with your investigations, Inspector. The sooner this man is caught, the better it will be for all of us.’
‘Indeed so, Mr Chase.’
The two police officers left the bank and made their way along the Terrace.
‘That was most interesting, Crabb,’ said Ravenscroft. ‘Let us go and see if our Mr Clifford can unearth these papers for us. It will be most interesting to see if we can learn who the founders of the bank were. I feel we may be making progress.’
As they entered the Malvern Library and Reading Rooms, they were greeted by Clifford the librarian in his usual polite, urbane manner. ‘Good morning to you, gentlemen. How can I help you today? Perhaps you require more information regarding the railway company?’
‘No, thank you, Mr Clifford. It is information about the Malvern and Worcestershire Bank that we require. We understand that some of the papers concerning the bank’s foundation were lodged with you about twenty years ago?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘Not with me. I only moved to the town about five years ago. The papers may have been lodged with my predecessor, Mr Lamb. I can check should you so wish?’
‘If you would be so kind, I would be obliged.’
‘I will consult my card index. Just a moment, gentlemen,’ said Clifford moving over to a large cabinet at the side of the room, and thumbing through its contents. ‘Ah, here we are,’ he said. ‘Papers relating to the Malvern and Worcestershire Bank, deposited in 1864. I’ll just make a note of the reference number.’
‘You seem very well organised here, Mr Clifford,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘We try to be. I say “we” as the system was instigated by my predecessor. I have merely continued his good work, with a few modifications of my own. I’ll just go to the storage room, down below, and retrieve the papers you require. I won’t keep you too long, gentlemen.’
Clifford disappeared down a staircase, leaving Ravenscroft and Crabb to look round the shelves of the room.
‘Let us hope he can retrieve the papers. It would be interesting to see what they can tell us. I feel we are not far away from uncovering our mystery,’ said Ravenscroft.
The librarian returned presently, clutching a file in his hands, a worried expression on his face. ‘Gentlemen, I’m afraid there is a problem. You will see here, on the outside of the folder it itemises a list of contents. The first item is a document stating the terms of the foundation of the bank. Unfortunately it seems to be missing. The other papers appear to be relating to the annual accounts in the early years of the bank. They all seem to be present.’
Ravenscroft searched through the remaining papers. ‘You are correct, Mr Clifford. The paper is indeed missing. Someone has clearly removed it.’
‘Dear me! This is most irregular. I can only apologise, gentlemen,’ said Clifford, looking downcast.
‘Mr Clifford. How easy would it have been for someone to have removed this item without your knowledge?’ asked Ravenscroft, closing the file.
‘We have people in here all the time, asking to look at the documents. I do not usually stand over them while they are engaged in their research.’
‘So it would have been comparatively easy for someone to have removed this document, without your knowledge
?’ said Ravenscroft, annoyed that they had come so far, only to be denied access to the one paper they required.
‘Yes. I suppose so. Dear me, this has not happened before,’ said an apologetic Clifford.
‘As far as you know,’ smiled Ravenscroft grimly. ‘Do you recall anyone recently asking to see these papers?’
‘No, not that I recall.’
‘You don’t keep a record of who asks to see certain papers?’
‘I’m afraid not. It is impossible to record all details like that.’
‘Thank you, Mr Clifford. Would you please inform us straight away should such a paper come to light?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘Certainly, I will make a further search in the storage room. There is always the possibility that the item may have been filed in another place.’
Ravenscroft shook hands with Clifford and the two men left the Reading Rooms.
‘This is most frustrating, Crabb. We were so close to discovering the truth. Quite clearly someone has removed the document relating to the foundation of the bank, so that the information could not be made available to people such as ourselves. I have a deep suspicion that all our three targeted victims were founders of the bank — hence the reason for the walking sticks — and that there must therefore be others whose names would have been on the foundation document.’
‘Now we will never know who they were, sir,’ said Crabb, dejected.
‘Would you not say that our Mr Clifford is usually a most methodical, careful man?’ asked Ravenscroft suddenly stopping.
‘Yes, sir. He seems to know what is going on in the town,’ answered Crabb.
‘Precisely, and yet he keeps no records of those who view his documents, and appears not to check for any missing papers once they have been viewed. That would seem to be behaviour which is completely contrary to his normal approach to things.’
‘You don’t think that it was Clifford himself who removed the document?’ asked Crabb.
‘There is that possibility. We have no way of telling when the document was taken. It was clearly deposited with the library in 1864. Clifford arrived five years ago. It could have been taken years ago before his arrival, hence the discovery of its loss not being evident until today. On the other hand, as our murders have all taken place recently, one would suppose that the document was also removed sometime in the last few weeks. But had that been the case, Mr Clifford would surely have remembered someone viewing the papers. Unfortunately we have no way of telling which is the case,’ said Ravenscroft deep in thought.
‘Our Mr Clifford does not look like a murderer. He may appear to be rather too smart for his own suit, but he don’t look the killing type,’ suggested Crabb.
‘In my experience, Crabb, crimes are committed by two types of people. The first are perpetrated by hot-blooded, emotional people who often kill on the spur of the moment or out of desperation of some kind. The second group are those quiet, unassuming people who calculate precisely what they are going to do and when they are going to do it, and who then fully justify their actions to themselves. I would say that our murderer here would be of the second kind, and in that case Mr Clifford could fit into that group. However, we have no evidence to link him to the crimes at present; we cannot condemn a man by his looks and manner alone, or because of his apparent negligence. We must always keep an open mind.’
‘You think our murderer also took the papers, sir?’
‘In all probability, but we still don’t know who that person was.’
‘So what do we do now, sir? What else can we do?’ asked Crabb, looking to guidance from his superior officer.
‘Very little it would seem, until we have established the names of the other founders of the bank,’ replied Ravenscroft.
‘The only thing we could do, sir, is examine everyone’s walking stick,’ suggested Crabb half-heartedly.
‘Of course, Crabb!’ exclaimed Ravenscroft looking across the churchyard of the Priory Church. ‘That’s what we must do. There are others, with similar sticks, who must have some connection with the foundation of the bank. I remember now. On the day we visited Touchmore in his office over there, he removed a pile of papers from a chair so that I could sit down. He asked me to hand him his cane, which was also on the chair, saying he had been looking for it all morning. I’m sure the cane had a silver handle,’ said Ravenscroft excitedly.
‘Then you think our Reverend is another of the founders of the bank?’
‘There is only one way to find out. Let’s go and see if the Reverend Touchmore is still in residence.’
The two officers walked along the path across the churchyard until they reached the old buildings that housed the church offices. Opening the door, they made their way up the stairs. Touchmore’s door was open, and the cleric himself was sitting at his desk busily writing with one hand, while using the other to mop his brow with a large handkerchief. ‘Ah, gentlemen, do please come in,’ he said without looking up. ‘I won’t keep you a moment. I have to complete these returns for the bishop. Should have been sent to the deanery yesterday, but one has been so busy. There never seems enough hours in the day, never enough hours.’
‘Indeed, Reverend,’ sympathised Ravenscroft.
‘Do please take a seat. Just throw those papers in the corner, will you.’
Crabb picked up the papers and added them to one of the piles.
‘Mr Touchmore. We are still making enquiries into the deaths of Mr Pitzer, Mr Sommersby and Doctor Gladwyn, and think you may be able to assist us,’ said Ravenscroft sitting down on the dusty chair.
‘I was under the impression, Inspector, that you had solved the case. I believe some old half-blind beggar had committed the atrocities, before falling to his death on the hills,’ said Touchmore, laying down his pen and replacing his handkerchief in his coat pocket.
‘We don’t think the beggar committed the crimes, so our enquiries are continuing.’
‘Dear me, what a terrible business all this has been. I have lost three of my dearest friends, all gone in such a short time. We offer up prayers for their souls of course, but that will not bring them back. That which is lost, can never be regained.’
‘Can I ask whether you own a walking stick similar to this one?’ asked Ravenscroft showing Touchmore the stick. ‘I would be obliged if you would pay particular attention to the silver handle, sir.’
‘I do indeed, but where did you get—?’
‘It belongs to Mr Pitzer. Both Doctor Sommersby and Doctor Gladwyn had similar sticks. I believe the initials M., B. and W. stand for the Malvern and Worcestershire Bank if I am not mistaken?’
‘That is correct, Inspector.’
‘I believe that these sticks were made for the founders of the bank, Reverend.’
‘You are correct again, Mr Ravenscroft. When we founded the bank in 1857, we each decided to commemorate the event by having a walking stick made for each of the six founders, so that we would each have a reminder of our commitment.’
‘You say there were six founders?’ asked Ravenscroft leaning forwards eagerly in his chair. ‘Who were they?’
‘There were six of us, as I said. Pitzer, Sommersby, Gladwyn, myself — and the other two were Gastrux and Lambert, I believe.’ replied Touchmore, deep in thought.
‘You say, you believe. That would seem to suggest that you have not seen the other two members for a while?’
‘Why, yes, I suppose so. Poor Gastrux — he was of French origin I believe — was killed shortly after the foundation. He died in a hunting accident, while out riding with the Ledbury Hunt. I remember it was a terrible business; broke his neck in the fall, there was nothing anyone could do for the poor man,’ replied the cleric, shaking his head.
‘And Lambert, what happened to him, sir?’ asked Crabb, impatiently breaking into the clergyman’s flow of words.
‘Lambert? Let me see. What did happen to him? He was a doctor, I believe. Ah yes, he left a year or so after the foundation. I think he went to ta
ke on a practice somewhere up north.’
‘Can you remember where exactly? It may have considerable bearing on this case,’ urged Ravenscroft.
‘Let me see. I should remember. Somewhere near the Lake District — something “Over Sands”. Yes, that’s it — Grange-Over-Sands — funny name, that’s why I remember it. Grange-Over-Sands; a fashionable resort I believe. Not that I have ever been there of course. Not so fashionable or as important as Malvern obviously.’
‘Have you ever heard from this Doctor Lambert since his departure?’
‘No. Not a word, Inspector, in all these years. Interesting how one fails to keep in touch with people once they have left. I suppose that is where that saying comes from — “out of sight, out of mind”.’
‘So let me see, Reverend. There were six founders to the bank. Mr Chase has informed us that not one of the founders has ever drawn any kind of dividend. Why was that, sir?’
‘I can see that you have been doing your homework, Inspector. When we founded the bank it was decided amongst ourselves that the profits would always be reinvested. We were a tontine you see.’
‘A tontine. What’s that?’ asked Crabb, looking up from his notebook, a puzzled expression of his face.
‘It’s a financial agreement drawn up by a number of parties, the chief clause of which is that all the investment or funds, will all eventually go to the surviving member,’ explained Ravenscroft. ‘I know of one or two places in London, where properties have been built by the members of the tontine, and the ownership eventually falls to which ever member of the foundation outlives the others,’ said Ravenscroft, leaning back in his chair.
‘That is quite correct, Inspector. Each of the six of us put in an equal sum of money into the foundation, with the stipulation that whoever was the last to survive would inherit the bank.’
‘Would it be correct to say, that in the days of the foundation, such investment was then of a modest sum, but that over the years the initial investment has grown considerably?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘Yes, I suppose, it would be fair to say that,’ replied Touchmore.
‘And were you all of a similar age when the foundation was made?’
