by Kerry Tombs
‘If you will excuse us,’ said Maurice, giving a slight bow in Ravenscroft’s direction before taking his brother’s arm.
‘See you again. Can’t keep the young lady waiting. Who did you say you were?’ enquired Rupert, as he was led away.
Ravenscroft and his wife watched as the two men disappeared into the centre of the crowd.
‘It seems as though our Mr Rupert Montacute has had rather too much to drink,’ said Lucy.
‘He seemed harmless enough; was probably just enjoying the occasion. Interesting – one would not have thought that the two men were brothers. Rupert, young, dark haired, outgoing and frivolous; Maurice, perhaps fifteen years older, seems more confident and reserved. Probably a banker like his father, I would say. Perhaps they are really stepbrothers?’
‘Samuel, stop it! You are not on duty now. Stop trying to be the detective.’
‘Sorry, my dear.’
‘Ladies and gentlemen, will you please welcome the grand order of lamplighters!’ a loud voice cried out suddenly from near the entrance of the room.
A loud cheer went up from the crowd as everyone turned to face the direction of the door.
‘The lamplighters!’
More cheers and applause from the assembly.
Three men carrying long poles entered the room. Ravenscroft observed that people were beginning to open the windows of the room, letting in the cold night air.
‘I didn’t know they had uniforms,’ shouted Lucy to her husband over the noise.
‘Bit like Morris Men. They must just wear them for this one evening,’ shouted back Ravenscroft.
The three new arrivals made their way round the room, to great applause, shaking the hands with each of the guests in turn as they progressed.
‘Ladies and gentlemen! If I could have your attention for just one minute.’ Ravenscroft observed that the speaker was the old banker, Nathaniel Montacute.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, I give you a toast – the lamplighters!’
‘The lamplighters!’ chorused the crowd as they raised their glasses.
Lucy took her husband’s arm and smiled as she heard the church clock begin to strike somewhere in the distance.
‘Put out the lights before the last stroke!’ shouted out a voice from somewhere in the centre of the floor.
‘The lights! Put out the lights! Put out the lights! Bad luck not to put out the lights!’
The room quickly plunged into darkness as the cry was taken up.
‘Quiet, everyone! Listen to the clock!’
A silence fell over the darkened room, as everyone strained to hear the remainder of the slow chimes of the church clock.
‘A Happy New Year!’
The cry went up, as the lamplighters set about the business of relighting the room. Ravenscroft turned to face his wife.
‘A Happy New Year, Samuel.’
‘A Happy New Year, my love,’ said Ravenscroft, kissing his wife and feeling himself the luckiest man alive.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, if I could just have your attention once more?’ The speaker was their host, Nathaniel Montacute, who was banging his fist on the table. Everyone turned in his direction.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, please raise your glasses – to the New Year!’
‘The New Year!’ went up the cry.
‘The New Year!’
‘And a prosperous one as well, Nathaniel!’ shouted out a voice from the floor.
‘It will be, if the bank lets us have our money!’ shouted out another, from amidst all the laughter.
‘You’ll all be welcome at Cocks and—’
But Nathaniel Montacute was unable to complete the sentence.
Someone in the room screamed as first the glass and then the old banker fell suddenly to the floor.
CHAPTER THREE
LEDBURY, NEW YEAR’S DAY, 1889
‘So it looks as though we have another murder on our hands,’ said Crabb.
‘Indeed,’ replied Ravenscroft.
‘Thought things had been rather too quiet since your arrival, sir.’
‘They may not be for much longer. This is Doctor Andrews. Doctor, let me introduce you to Constable Crabb, who will be assisting me in this case.’
‘Constable Crabb,’ replied the doctor, nodding in the arrival’s direction.
‘Doctor Andrews, sir,’ said Crabb, returning the greeting and glancing at the dark-haired, middle-aged man who was seated in one of the armchairs.
Several hours had passed since the dramatic events at midnight, and the three men were sitting in the ballroom of the Feathers Hotel.
‘Doctor Andrews was at the ball with my wife and I, and half the population of Ledbury,’ explained Ravenscroft, before going on to recount the events of the evening to his younger colleague.
‘So Mr Montacute was poisoned?’ asked Crabb when his superior officer had finished.
‘It would certainly seem that way. I was the first to examine poor Montacute. There was nothing I could do for him; he died within a minute or so,’ interjected the doctor.
‘We recovered the glass, Crabb. No doubt about it. Poison. Someone must have either poured it into his glass when the lights went out, or made sure that the poison was already in the glass and that he drank it when the lights came back on. I saw Montacute toasting the lamplighters from his glass when they arrived in the room, and he was perfectly all right then,’ said Ravenscroft, removing his spectacles so that he might clean them.
‘I suppose if you were going to poison someone, you would wait for the lights to go out and then drop the poison into the glass. A perfect opportunity, sir,’ suggested Crabb.
‘I think our murderer must have slipped the poison into the glass before the lights went out. Everyone was far too occupied in watching the lights go out to see what he or she was up to. If the murderer had waited for the room to descend into absolute darkness he might not have been able to see what he was doing.’
‘What happened afterwards, sir?’
‘At first everyone was stunned by the event they had just witnessed. One or two people, including Doctor Andrews and myself, rushed forward to see if we could assist the poor man, but once it became apparent that nothing could be done for Montacute, one or two of the ladies screamed and fainted, and I could see that unless I took control of the situation straightaway a wholesale panic might have ensued. I therefore informed everyone who I was, and suggested that it would be better if they all returned to their homes as quickly as possible, with the exception of the Montacute family who were to remain. At first some of the people seemed reluctant to go and I’m afraid I had to apply a fairly strong tone of language to make sure they left. Then once Doctor Andrews had pronounced Montacute dead, I got the old man’s sons to take Mrs Montacute home and the undertakers to remove the body.’
‘A busy night, sir,’ sympathized Crabb.
‘Not the way I would have liked to have seen in the New Year,’ added Ravenscroft, replacing his spectacles on his nose.
‘There will have to be an inquest,’ said Andrews, removing his thick-lensed spectacles and polishing them on a handkerchief.
‘Almost certainly. Our task now, Crabb, is to discover who killed Montacute, and that’s where you might be able to help us, Doctor.’
‘Anything. Just ask.’
‘How long have you known the deceased and his family?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘I came to Ledbury when I completed my medical studies, some four years ago, but I did not attend to the Montacute family until two or three years ago.’
‘Oh, why was that, Doctor?’
‘Old Doctor Fuller was the family doctor. It was only when he passed away that I was asked to take over the care of the family.’
‘I see, Doctor. Please go on. What can you tell me about them?’ urged Ravenscroft.
‘Well, there is – sorry, was – Nathaniel Montacute, the old man. He was the senior partner in Cocks and Biddulph, the principal bankers in the town. I believe they
also have a branch in London as well. The business was apparently well established and the family was obviously very wealthy.’
‘What kind of man was Montacute?’ asked Ravenscroft, leaning forward in his seat.
The doctor thought deeply for a moment before answering. ‘He was a very much respected gentleman in the town, but I would say that while a great deal of that respect came from his position as the town’s banker, some of it also came out of fear.’
‘Could you elaborate further, sir?’
‘Montacute had been mayor of Ledbury on no less than two occasions. He was a local magistrate and served on a number of committees. I believe he had shares in a number of local companies and concerns, and owned a great deal of property in the town. It was generally said that he drove a hard bargain. It was known that those who had crossed him over the years had usually come off the worse for their encounter.’
‘I see, Doctor,’ said Ravenscroft, looking across at Crabb. ‘Can you remember anyone in particular?’
‘I suppose Catherwood is the name that immediately springs to mind. He lives alone in a rambling old house just outside Ledbury. Keeps very much to himself, somewhat of a recluse – but at one time he and Montacute were business partners together in a number of local concerns, until the two men fell out. All this happened, of course, before I came to the town, but they say that Montacute would not be happy until Catherwood was ruined.’
‘Looks as though there was someone who had a motive for killing Montacute,’ suggested Crabb.
‘Maybe. Please go on, Doctor,’ urged Ravenscroft.
‘Well, that’s all, really. There is nothing else I can add. As I said, it happened before I came to the town.’
‘You mentioned that there were others who had come off the worse for encountering the old man?’
‘I suppose over the years, in his role as magistrate, he had sent down quite a number of the local villains. It would have been unusual if one or two of them had not sworn their revenge on the old man,’ replied Andrews.
‘Anyone in particular, sir?’ asked Crabb, taking out his notebook.
‘None that I can recall by name.’
‘Montacute’s wife. She seems much younger than her husband,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘Edith Montacute. She is Nathaniel’s third wife, I believe.’
‘His third wife? Tell me about her.’
‘I can’t tell you much. They married just under two years ago. After the death of his second wife, Nathaniel went on a long holiday round Europe. He was away for nearly six months. When he returned, everyone in the town was surprised to discover that he had remarried during his absence and that a new Mrs Montacute was moving into The Gables. They say he had met her in Rome. I believe her family originated from somewhere in Cheshire. Other than that, I don’t know anything else about her.’
‘She’s quite an attractive woman.’
‘Yes, she is certainly a striking figure – although I must admit that I have only met her on one or two occasions, and never in a professional way.’
‘Am I correct in assuming that Montacute has two children from his former marriages?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘Yes. Maurice is the eldest son from Nathaniel’s first marriage. He followed his father into the family bank. Straight as they come. A banker if ever I saw one. Rather dull and dry for me. Then there is Rupert, Nathaniel’s son from his second marriage. He is rather fond of the drink and is generally regarded as a waster. Rupert and his father didn’t get on well together by all accounts. The two boys are as different as chalk and cheese.’
‘I met them both last night,’ interjected Ravenscroft.
‘Of course. There was also a daughter, Elizabeth, but she died long before I came to the town.’
‘Tell me, Doctor Andrews, you stated that Montacute’s second wife died just over two years ago.’
‘Yes, I attended her during her last illness. That was when I was first called to The Gables.’
‘What was the cause of her death? I appreciate you have a confidentiality to uphold, and I respect that, but the more information you can give us regarding the family, the easier it may become for us to solve this crime,’ said Ravenscroft, sitting back in his chair.
‘Enid Montacute was something of a local beauty, despite her years, and was a very popular figure in the town. She died of a fever. There was little I could do for her. I was not called in until it was too late. She died quite suddenly. It was a great loss to the town when she passed away.’
‘And what does the town think of the present Mrs Montacute?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘There has been a difference of opinion,’ replied Andrews, taking out his pocket watch and looking down at the hands.
‘In what way?’
‘As I said, everyone was rather taken aback when old Nathaniel returned from his European excursion with his young bride, who must be a good forty years younger than her husband. Some of the townspeople were shocked. You see, Enid had been very popular in the community. It must have seemed to some as though the old man had been almost ensnared by this younger woman.’
‘And what is your opinion, Doctor?’ enquired Ravenscroft.
‘I have none. If Edith is – was – able to make the old man happy, then that is all that matters.’
‘And did she? Did she make him happy?’
‘I believe so – as far as I can tell. I really must go now, Inspector. If you will excuse me, there are a number of patients I have to visit today,’ said Andrews, rising from his seat.
‘Of course, Doctor. Please accept my apologies for detaining you for so long. You have been most helpful.’
‘Glad to have been of assistance. You know where I am if you need to call on me.’
‘Oh, one final question, Doctor. You mentioned Catherwood. Is he a patient of yours?’ asked Ravenscroft, standing up and shaking the doctor’s hand.
‘No. I have never had cause to attend to the gentleman in a professional way.’
‘Thank you, Doctor.’
As Andrews left the room, Crabb closed his notebook. ‘Well, sir, it seems as though we have quite a lot to go on – a former business partner who was on bad terms with the deceased, a son who disliked his father, a young bride married to a man much older than herself, and a number of criminals who had cause to see him dead. Doctor Andrews was quite informative.’
‘Indeed, Crabb, but I sense that this crime will not be an easy one to solve. This room was crowded last night when Montacute was poisoned. There must have been well over two hundred people, any one of whom had the opportunity to slip poison into the glass when the lights went out. I have no doubt that there were a number of people who would have liked to have seen the old man dead – but only one of them who was prepared to go as far as murder.’
‘Where do we start, sir?’ asked Crabb, eager to begin the investigation.
‘I asked the manager of the Feathers to provide us with a list of all those who attended the ball here last night,’ said Ravenscroft, reaching into his pocket and drawing out some sheets of paper, which he passed over to his constable.
‘Rather a lot of them, sir,’ replied Crabb, looking down at the list of names.
‘One of those names could well be our murderer, but we must also remember that when the lights went out, practically anyone could have either left or indeed entered the room completely unobserved. Our murderer may not even be on that list.’
‘You and Mrs Ravenscroft are on the list. No sign of anyone called Catherwood.’
‘That is not surprising. If Mr Catherwood was an old enemy of Montacute, and is a recluse, as the doctor stated, then he would not have been invited,’ replied Ravenscroft.
‘Perhaps we should start with him first?’ suggested Crabb.
‘No, I think we can leave Mr Catherwood until later. I suggest that we begin our investigations by paying our respects to the family at The Gables.’
A few minutes’ walk brought the two men to the lodge gates of Th
e Gables. As Crabb opened the wrought-iron gate and was about to enter, a voice suddenly called out from behind the hedge, ‘Can I be assistance to you, gentlemen?’
‘I certainly hope so,’ replied Ravenscroft.
The speaker, who emerged into view, was a tall, thick-set, middle-aged man dressed in tweeds and a cloth cap, carrying a rifle under his arm. ‘Who the devil are you, then? This is private property.’
‘My name is Inspector Ravenscroft and this is Constable Crabb. We are here to investigate the murder of Mr Montacute.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, I did not notice your constable’s uniform. Bad business,’ muttered the man.
‘Indeed – and you are?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘Rivers. Gamekeeper.’
‘Mr Rivers. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Perhaps you would not mind if I asked you a few questions as we walk up to the house?’
‘If you wish.’
‘Were you at the Lamplighters’ Ball last night?’
‘No,’ replied the gamekeeper, leading the way up the path towards the house.
‘Where were you, then?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘Out and about.’
‘Where exactly “out and about”?’ Ravenscroft could see that the man was not going to be entirely forthcoming with his answers.
‘I’m a gamekeeper. I go out at night, keeping an eye out for poachers and suchlike.’
‘Did you catch any last night?’ asked Crabb.
‘No.’
‘Were you out all night?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘I went out about ten, and came home to find the family coming back from the ball. That’s when I learnt that Mr Montacute had been killed.’
‘So you were out from ten until sometime after twelve?’
‘Yes, although I may have called into the kitchens for a drink,’ said Rivers, stopping suddenly.
‘What time was that?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘Probably about half eleven.’
‘Was anyone else there who can vouch for your presence?’
‘Mrs Chambers, the cook. She was there. Ask her if you like. Look, what’s this all about? Why am I being questioned like this?’ asked the gamekeeper, becoming annoyed.
