by Kerry Tombs
‘I can’t have it, Mr Ravenscourt. All my lodgers keep missing like this. Who’s going to pay the rent at the end of the week, I should like to know?’ moaned the old lady wiping her blotchy nose on her sleeve.
‘I’m sure you will be able to find someone to take over Mr Evelyn’s room quite soon, and Miss Weston might well return,’ suggested Ravenscroft.
‘I’ll believe it when I see it,’ grumbled the landlady.
‘I understand that Miss Weston and her son lived on the ground floor. How long have they been here?’
‘About three years.’
‘Miss Weston was single, I believe.’
‘Yes. I don’t usually have single unmarried women with children at Glovers. I’ve got my reputation to think about.’
‘But you made an exception in this case,’ smiled Ravenscroft.
‘More fool me! Never could resist a sob story. Too kind-hearted I am. Glover said it would always lead to my downfall one day.’
‘Did they ever cause you any trouble?’
‘Suppose not, till now,’ said Mrs Glover, blowing her nose loudly on a large handkerchief.
‘Tell me, how many lodgers are there boarding with you here?’ asked Ravenscroft casually picking up one of the china ornaments and examining it.
‘Here, you put that down! That’s early Worcester that is,’ said the old woman, alarmed.
‘I’m sorry,’ apologized Ravenscroft quickly replacing the figure. ‘You have a fine collection. It must have taken you a long time to have collected so many fine items. You were about to tell me about your other lodgers.’
‘Miss Weston and her son, they have the other two rooms on the ground floor. I have the rooms on the next floor. Lord knows why, with my leg. Then there is Mr and Mrs Bailey, nice young couple they have the next floor, Mr Cranston on the floor above them. He’s a commercial traveller. No trouble. Perfect gentleman, although he’s not often here, travels around quite a lot — always going up to London and such like, on business. Mr Evelyn was on the top floor. We keeps a good house here at Glovers, we do. Glover would never allow any ne’er-do-wells and such like to stay, and I have followed in his footsteps. All my lodgers are highly respectable people. Yes, we keeps a good house here.’
‘I’m sure you do, Mrs Glover. Can you tell me when your other guests will be here? My constable and I will need to have words with them,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘You’ll be lucky. Mr and Mrs Bailey went away two weeks ago, travelling in France, don’t expect them back till later in the month.’
‘And Mr Cranston?’ asked Crabb.
‘He went up to London earlier in the week, as usual. He should be back in a day or so.’
‘Could you tell him upon his return to contact us Mrs Glover?’ asked Ravenscroft.
The old woman shrugged her shoulders.
‘Could you also let us know immediately if Miss Weston returns, if you would be so kind. Oh, where is the boy now?’
‘He’s crying his eyes out in their rooms. I can’t get him to stop. I’ve given him his breakfast, what more does he want? Don’t know what I’m supposed to do with him.’
‘Can I have a word with him?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘Suppose so.’
Mrs Glover opened the door and the two men followed her back along the hallway until they reached the rooms at the front of the property. As they entered, they were met by a young boy whom Ravenscroft recognized from his morning encounter on the cathedral Close, as being Ruth Weston’s son.
‘Has my mummy come back?’ asked the child looking up into Ravenscroft’s face, with tearful red eyes.
‘I’m afraid not,’ said Ravenscroft, kneeling down by the side of the boy. ‘Do you remember me?’
‘You were at the cathedral that morning.’
‘That’s right, Arthur. Your mother and I spoke together. I am a policeman, and I am going to find your mother. Did she say anything to you the other evening, before she went out?’
‘No.’
‘Do you have any idea where she was going?’
The boy shook his head, before lowering his eyes to the floor.
‘That’s all very well, but he can’t stay here. I’ve got things to do. I’m not used to looking after children,’ muttered Mrs Glover.
‘Constable Crabb and I will do everything we can to find your mother, Arthur. I’m sure she will soon return. In the meantime, can you be strong for your mother?’ asked Ravenscroft speaking softly.
The boy nodded again.
‘Good boy. Has he eaten anything since breakfast?’ said Ravenscroft addressing the old woman.
‘Don’t know. How should I know?’ sniffed Mrs Glover.
‘Here. Take this shilling. Send out for something for the boy. If you could look after him for the rest of the day I’ll give you another shilling when we return this evening,’ said Ravenscroft giving the coin to the woman.
‘Suppose it might be all right for a few hours, but I can’t have the boy for too long. He’ll have to go to the workhouse if she don’t come back for him.’
‘I’m sure it won’t come to that, Mrs Glover. We quite understand your predicament. We’ll let ourselves out. Goodbye, Arthur.’
As the two men walked away from the lodging house, Crabb remarked, ‘This is a turn up. First Evelyn goes missing, now it’s Miss Weston.’
‘I hate to say it, but I fear the worst. Miss Weston did not seem the kind of person to abandon her child. She seemed to me to be a most conscientious kind of parent. I wonder where she was going to at such a late hour? She must have gone out to meet someone.’
‘You don’t think she is mixed up in all this business at the cathedral?’
‘To tell you the truth, I don’t quite know what to think. It seems more than a coincidence, however, that both Evelyn and Ruth Weston lodged there. We will need to interview the others as soon as possible,’ said the inspector deep in thought.
‘The Bailey couple have gone to France.’
‘Then this Cranston fellow, but I suppose we can’t do anything there until he returns from London. Right, we must do everything we can to find Ruth Weston,’ said Ravenscroft with determination. ‘I will write you out a description of the woman, which I want you to take back to the station, and send out to as many local stations as you think fit. Best keep Henderson informed. We don’t want to be treading on his toes again. If he can spare any men, send them to walk along the river. I’ll go back to Ruth Weston’s place of work, and see if anyone there knows why she has gone missing.’
Ravenscroft rang the bell of the residence of Sir Arthur Griffiths, and waited for the maid to open the door for him. ‘Inspector Ravenscroft. It is imperative that I speak with your master.’
‘I’m sorry, Sir Arthur is in London,’ answered the maid.
‘When did he leave?’
‘Yesterday afternoon, sir, shortly after you called.’
‘And when do you expect him to return?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘Not until tomorrow.’
‘Can I speak with Miss Griffiths?’
‘I’m sorry, but that will not be possible. She went away with Sir Arthur.’
‘I see. Then perhaps you can help me. I understand Ruth Weston works here as a parlour maid.’
‘That is correct, sir.’
‘Did she present herself for work yesterday?’
‘No. To tell you the truth, cook and I are rather concerned about her.’
‘It wasn’t her day off yesterday?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Did she give any indication that she might not be available for work?’
‘No, sir,’ replied the maid looking increasingly worried.
‘And I presume that she has not reported for work today?’
‘That is correct.’
‘Did you not think it rather strange that Miss Weston has not reported for duty for the past two days?’
‘Yes, but when I told Miss Griffiths, she said that we were not to worry
; she was probably ill and would return in a day or so. Has something dreadful happened to her? Cook and I are awfully worried. Nothing like this has ever happened before.’
‘We are doing everything we can to find her. You have been most helpful. Should Miss Weston return, or if you hear anything regarding her whereabouts, I would be grateful if you would send a message to the police station,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘Of course, I do hope you find her. What’s happened to her young boy?’
‘Mrs Glover is looking after him for the time being.’
‘The poor mite, he must be missing his mother.’
‘I’m sure he is,’ said a worried Ravenscroft as he walked away from the house.
The church clock struck six as the policemen met together once more under the shadow of the cathedral.
‘Nothing, sir, no one has seen or heard anything regarding our missing lady,’ said Crabb wearily.
‘I’ve been about the town and cathedral making enquiries, but have met with no success. Sir Arthur Griffiths and his daughter both left for the capital yesterday, and will not be back until tomorrow,’ replied Ravenscroft.
‘I’ve sent out her description to all the local stations with instructions to report back to Worcester if they hear anything. Superintendent Henderson seems reluctant to let us have any men, but says he will see if he can release one or two officers to go out in a boat along the river, but not until the morning.’
‘Then it seems that we have done all that we can do for today. The longer this goes on, the more concerned I become for Miss Weston’s safety. Then there is the young lad to consider. I don’t think we can leave him to the mercies of Mrs Glover for another night, but I’m damned if I know what to do with him. The thought of the local workhouse seems an unkind consideration,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘I’ve an idea. Why don’t I take the lad home with me for the night? Better than leaving him with Mrs Glover. Jennie will give him a good meal. He will be all right with us.’
‘Tom, that seems a Christian act and no mistake, but I fear it is a frightful imposition on you and your wife.’
‘No imposition. Jennie will be more than pleased to take the lad under her wing. Anyway it’s only for a day or so. Happen his mother will return tomorrow, and there will be a proper explanation for all of this.’
‘You are a good man Tom Crabb. Let’s go and collect the lad and you can make your way back to Malvern.’
They searched for Ruth Weston for three days. Ravenscroft and Crabb had walked the river-bank from Worcester to Diglis and beyond, looking for anything which had been swept into the sides of the water. A boat had been hired and had continued the search down to Upton and onwards to Tewkesbury. Descriptions had been sent to nearby towns, posters had been displayed in prominent places, and even the canal was traversed from Worcester to Tardebigge, and from Hanbury across to Droitwich.
Then, on the fourth morning, the two men had suddenly been called up river to Holt Fleet, where a large sack had been pulled from the murky waters near the lock gates.
Ravencroft’s heart felt full of despair as they rode in the cab, through driving rain, and out of the city. A uniformed policeman conducted them down the path that led from the bridge at Holt, towards the lock gates, where the keeper waited anxiously for their arrival.
Ravenscroft untied the rope that had been used at the top of the sack, with trembling hands and, as he had done so, he hoped against hope that his journey might yet prove fruitless. But, as he looked down at the body of the dead woman, and recognized her as the woman he had spoken with in the cathedral grounds, he had turned away quickly and felt a despair beyond comprehension.
It did not take them long to establish the cause of death — the red cord that had been used to kill her was still tightly secured round her throat. A brief examination of her pockets revealed them to be empty. The keeper was interviewed, and declared that he had seen or heard nothing out of the ordinary.
They carried the body into the lock keeper’s cottage, where they laid her out on the kitchen table, awaiting the arrival of Crabb’s colleagues who would eventually take her to the mortuary. Before they left, Ravenscroft took one final look at the body and, fighting back tears, gently brushed the wet hair away from her face.
As he and Crabb sat together in silence in the cab on their way back to Worcester, each not knowing what to say to the other, Ravenscroft began slowly to realize the enormity of the task which now faced them. He had been unable to discover the murderer of the librarian; the lost book still awaited recovery; he had interviewed many people and had gained little in the way of evidence. Now, he was faced with the incomprehensible death of a second victim: a poor, innocent, defenceless woman who had been killed in such brutal fashion.
And, worst of all, he would now have to travel to Malvern, to inform a young boy that his mother would never be returning home to him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘Do sit down, Inspector.’
‘Thank you.’
Ravenscroft and Crabb seated themselves on the sofa in the drawing-room of the residence of Sir Arthur Griffiths.
‘I am sorry I was not able to speak to you when you called upon us the other day. I understand that my daughter was able to answer all your questions.’ The speaker was a tall, well-dressed, moustached gentleman.
‘Your daughter was able to answer some of my questions,’ replied Ravenscroft.
‘This is a terrible business. I feel somewhat responsible.’
‘Oh, why do you say that, sir?’
‘The woman was an employee of mine and as such was under my care and protection,’ said Griffiths, brushing a hair away from the knee of his well-pressed trousers.
‘How long had Miss Weston been employed here?’
‘Eight or ten years, I think. Do you remember exactly, my dear?’ said the politician turning towards his daughter.
‘She came to us eight years ago,’ she replied.
‘Do you happen to know from which part of the country she came from?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘Worcester I believe. She was a local girl,’ replied Sir Arthur.
‘It was unusual, was it not, that she did not live on the premises? I believe it is the custom for servants to reside where they are employed,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘That is often the case, as you correctly say, Inspector, but as you are no doubt aware Miss Weston has a son. It would not be appropriate for her and the child to be housed together under my roof.’
‘Miss Weston was unmarried. Do you know who the father of her child was?’
‘Good heavens, Inspector! It is not my business to interfere into the personal lives of my servants,’ protested Griffiths.
‘And yet you still kept her on in your employ. A lesser employer might have dismissed her,’ suggested Ravenscroft.
‘My father is a Christian gentleman,’ interjected Miss Griffiths. ‘He does not abandon those who seek his help, in their hour of need.’
‘I am sure that is a very commendable attitude, Miss Griffiths.’
‘My daughter found lodgings for the girl in the town, and after her confinement she resumed her duties here,’ said the MP.
‘And how did you find Miss Weston?’ asked Crabb, looking up from his pocket book.
‘We had no cause for complaint,’ said Miss Griffiths, turning away and looking vacantly in the direction of the window.
‘When did you first notice her absence?’
‘Shortly before my father and I left for London.’
‘Did you not think it rather strange, Miss Griffiths, that Miss Weston had not arrived for work that day?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘I thought she was probably ill, and that she would return to work the following day.’
‘Look here, Ravenscroft, this is all rather distressing for my daughter,’ said Griffiths.
‘I am sorry, sir, but these questions have to be asked if we are to apprehend Miss Weston’s murderer,’ said Ravenscroft, with as much
firmness as he could muster.
‘This is a shocking business. It is clear that some depraved ruffian from the lower depths of the town has committed this terrible deed. I would expect you to make an early arrest. To expedite matters I am prepared to announce a reward of fifty pounds for information leading to the apprehension of the villain.’
‘I don’t think that is wise, Father. You have your position to think about. It would not be appropriate if we were seen to be involved in this affair,’ said Miss Griffiths, looking anxiously across at her father.
‘My dear, you are perhaps right, as usual. I don’t know what I would have done without you, all these years since your mother’s death. No, Inspector, by all means offer the reward, but I think it best if you keep our names out of it.’
‘As you wish, although it might be best if we did not announce such a reward for a while, until at least after the inquest. Such an announcement will encourage a large number of people to come forward with all tales of fancy and suggestion.’
Sir Arthur nodded his approval.
‘May I turn now to the night of the disappearance of the librarian, Nicholas Evelyn. You were here that night, sir?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘I was, Inspector.’
‘At what time did you retire?’
‘It was just after ten, I believe.’
‘And your bedroom is at rear of the house?’
‘I have told you this already, Inspector,’ interjected Miss Griffiths nervously fingering the lace handkerchief in her lap.
‘It’s all right my dear, I am sure the Inspector is only performing his duty. Yes my bedroom is at the rear of the house.’
‘You were unable then to see anyone either entering or leaving the cathedral later that night?’
‘As you say, Inspector.’
‘Do you know, Miss Griffiths, if any of the servants saw anything that night?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘I have spoken with the cook and the maid. They retired at around ten. Their rooms are in the basement, so they do not have a view directly out on to the cathedral,’ replied the young lady, turning the handkerchief round in her fingers.
