by Kerry Tombs
The two men made their way to the snug, where a welcoming fire spluttered loudly in the hearth.
‘Just the thing,’ said Ravenscroft, removing his overcoat and rubbing his hands in front of the flames.
‘Good day to you, gentlemen. Can I get you something to eat and drink? We’ve some nice venison pie left over from the festivities,’ said a cheery-faced barman.
‘Excellent – and two tankards as well, if you please,’ instructed Ravenscroft.
‘I sent off the telegram, sir, with instructions that they are to reply as soon as possible,’ said Crabb, seating himself on one of the stools.
‘Good man. It will be interesting to see what the prison authorities can tell us about Leewood.’
‘How did you get on with the family, sir?’
‘The Leewoods live off the Homend, in a miserable place in Smoke Alley. If I said it was as bad as some of the places I used to visit in Whitechapel, I would not be far off the mark. Even the rats appeared to have left last year.’
‘I know what you mean, sir,’ sympathized Crabb.
‘I spoke with an old woman, who appears to be dying from some form of consumption, who said she was the mother of our Joshua Leewood. She told me that her daughter-in-law had run off with a tinker some two years ago, and that her grandchildren were living she knew not where in some other part of Ledbury. Apparently she has neither seen nor heard anything concerning her son since he was sent down,’ said Ravenscroft, standing before the fire and feeling the heat beginning to make its way up his back.
‘Bit of a blank there then, sir.’
‘At least there was no sign that Leewood was there, so one can only assume that he is still locked up in Hereford gaol.’
‘We won’t know that until we receive the reply,’ replied Crabb, accepting two plates of food from the barman. ‘This looks mighty good.’
‘Ah, you won’t be disappointed there. Best venison pie in the whole of Herefordshire. I’ll just get your ale, gentlemen.’
‘Thank you, my man. Have one yourself at our expense,’ said Ravenscroft, looking down at the plate before him.
‘That’s uncommonly good of you, sir, I don’t mind if I do.’
‘Eat up, Crabb. Hopefully the snow will have eased after our lunch and we can go and pay a visit on Mr Catherwood and attempt to discover what part, if any, he plays in this affair.’
An hour later Ravenscroft and Crabb left the Feathers Hotel. A thin layer of snow had settled over the ground and a hesitant sun was attempting to appear from beneath a dark-looking cloud as the two men made their way on foot up a narrow lane that ran off the marketplace.
‘I thought it best if we walk in this weather, Crabb. Catherwood’s place can’t be more than ten-minute’s away from here,’ said Ravenscroft.
Their journey took them away from the town as they began to climb steadily upwards, past a wood on their right and some fields stretching away downwards on their left-hand side. Eventually a large, rambling, black and white house came into view, the grounds of which were surrounded by a forbidding wooden fence. As they drew near they could hear the sound of dogs barking.
‘That would seem to be the main gate over there,’ said Ravenscroft, pointing to one side.
‘I don’t like the look of those animals,’ said Crabb, observing that their approach was being heralded by two large dogs intent on preventing any intruders from entering the grounds of their domain.
‘Perhaps if we wait here for a minute or two their owner may appear and give us safe passage,’ suggested Ravenscroft.
‘What do you two want on my land?’ called out a voice suddenly.
Ravenscroft and Crabb turned to see a middle-aged man of stocky, rugged appearance walking towards them.
‘Mr Catherwood?’ enquired Ravenscroft.
‘Depends who wants him.’
‘Inspector Ravenscroft from the local constabulary, and this is my associate Constable Crabb.’
‘And what do you want with me?’ said the man in an offhand manner.
‘We are investigating the death of Mr Montacute. I believe you may be able to assist us in our enquiries, if we might have a few moments of your time?’
The man stared at the two detectives for a few seconds and then said, ‘You best come in then.’
‘Thank you,’ replied Ravenscroft.
‘Mind the dogs,’ instructed Catherwood, opening the gate.
One of the animals leapt up to greet its master, while the other growled at a nervous Crabb and seemed intent on trying to jump upwards on to the constable.
‘Down, you brute!’ shouted Catherwood.
The two dogs instantly obeyed.
‘Dogs won’t hurt you unless you startle or threaten them. Follow me, gentlemen.’
Crabb gave Ravenscroft a look of relief as the two men followed the owner and his dogs along the path towards the main door of the residence.
‘You are not originally from these parts then, Mr Catherwood?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘Yorkshire.’
‘How long have you been resident in Ledbury?’
‘Twenty-one years,’ replied Catherwood, opening the door and indicating that they should enter.
Ravenscroft and Crabb found themselves standing on the quarry-tiled floor of a large room of rustic appearance, which was dominated by a great oak table and chairs in its centre, and a roaring log fire blazing forth from a stone hearth at the far end.
‘Take a seat, gentlemen,’ said their host, throwing his hat down on the table. ‘I thought it would not be long before you arrived.’
‘Oh, why do you say that, sir?’ said Ravenscroft, pulling out one of the chairs from the table and seating himself as the two dogs stretched out before the fire.
‘You know perfectly well, Ravenscroft, that Montacute and myself were once business partners and that we had a severe falling out. You no doubt see me as your main suspect,’ replied Catherwood without hesitation.
‘I would not say that, Mr Catherwood. At this stage we are merely making enquiries. The more we can discover about the late gentleman’s affairs, the more information we can obtain which may help us to eventually make an arrest,’ said Ravenscroft, sensing that his host was a man who liked to come quickly to the main point of an argument, and that he would need to tread carefully so as not to give offence.
‘Don’t mince your words, Ravenscroft,’ said Catherwood.
‘Tell me why you and Montacute fell out,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘The man cheated on me.’
‘Can you elaborate further, Mr Catherwood?’
‘Shortly after I arrived in Ledbury, Montacute got me to invest a large portion of my savings in some old cottages and land at the bottom of New Street, telling me all kinds of fanciful stories about how their value would double in five years. Then after two years he said the council – of which he was the mayor of at that time – would need to acquire the land in order to widen the road and that we would have to sell for a fraction of the price we had paid. There was nothing I could do but comply with the demand, or face the courts. Montacute then said that if I invested the sale proceeds, I would soon double my investment, as he knew of a good company in the city that was involved in shipping and was sure to do very well. I, like a fool, believed him. The following year, Montacute sold his share of the New Street properties to the Ledbury Gas Coke and Coal Company for the new gas works and made a pretty pile in the process – seemed as though he had not sold his share of the original investment after all. At the same time the company I had speculated in became bankrupt after one of their ships was lost at sea.’
‘Unfortunate,’ muttered Crabb, writing in his notebook.
‘Not unfortunate at all! I sold out my share of the investment to Montacute, only to learn later that the company had been resurrected and had doubled its profits the following year. I call that sharp practice,’ added Catherwood.
‘I can see why you disliked Mr Montacute,’ said Ravenscroft, trying to
sound sympathetic.
‘Dislike is putting it mildly. I hated the man at the time, Ravenscroft, but I soon realized I was powerless to do anything about it. Montacute had nearly ruined me, but he had such a strong hold on the affairs of the town that I could see little opportunity for redress,’ replied Catherwood, throwing another log on the fire.
‘And do you still hate Mr Montacute?’
‘No point. At the time I could have killed him quite easily, but as the years go by you soon realize it does you little good to think about the past. No amount of bitterness on my part will bring back my money. I had no time for the man, but I certainly did not kill him. I would not soil my hands with his death.’
‘I see,’ said Ravenscroft, looking sideways at Crabb. ‘Can you tell me where you were last night, Mr Catherwood?’
‘Here, as I am most nights.’
‘You live alone?’
‘I prefer it that way. People in Ledbury say I am a recluse, and that I keep to myself. Who am I to correct them in their assumptions?’ said Catherwood, bending down and patting one of his dogs on its head.
‘So there is no one who can prove that you were here at your house last night?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘Only my dogs. I keep no servants – only an old woman from the town who comes up here to keep the house clean and cook me a meal in the middle of the day. That serves me well enough. I have little cause to go into the town.’
‘You have not seen Mr Montacute recently?’
‘Last time I saw Montacute was three years ago on the other side of the street. He barely noticed my existence.’
‘Do you have cause to still invest with Cocks and Biddulph?’
‘After all that has happened? I keep what little money I have left over to myself,’ laughed Catherwood.
‘Well, sir, you have been most informative. Before we go, can you recall anyone else who may have lost money through dealings with Montacute?’ asked Ravenscroft, getting to his feet.
‘None that I can name, though I’m sure there must have been others. Men like Montacute don’t increase their wealth by doing large favours for those less fortunate than themselves,’ said Catherwood, motioning to the dogs that they were to remain where they were as the two policemen prepared to leave.
‘So you can think of no one who would have wanted Montacute dead?’
‘As I said, Inspector, there are almost certainly others out there whose dislike of the man may well have been greater than my own.’
‘Does the name Leewood mean anything to you? Joshua Leewood?’
‘Leewood? No, the name means nothing to me.’
‘Thank you, Mr Catherwood. If you remember anything that could assist us in our enquiries, I would be obliged if you would let us know,’ said Ravenscroft, shaking the large, rough hand.
‘Let me see you out.’
As Ravenscroft and Crabb walked back towards the centre of the town, the former paused for a moment to turn round and look back at the building in the distance. ‘A strange kind of existence, living day after day with only two dogs and a visiting domestic for company. If Montacute had ruined Catherwood and caused him to become a recluse, you would have thought that Catherwood would have displayed more anger and bitterness towards the banker. Instead he seemed almost resigned to his fate, accepting that he could do little to alter circumstances.’
‘Perhaps, as he said, he has long forgotten the wrong that was done to him?’ suggested Crabb as the two men resumed their walk.
‘In my experience, Crabb, men who have been financially ruined by another neither forgive nor feign indifference with the passage of time. Catherwood was far too accommodating for my liking. His calm, down-to-earth exterior may well be hiding an intense anger beneath. Either we are dealing with a man who really did not care what happened to Montacute, or with a very clever man who is more than capable of murder.’
‘Trouble is, sir, if no one saw him enter the Feathers in the dark, then we won’t be able to prove that he is our murderer.’
‘Exactly, Crabb. Also, that inn has far too many entrances and exits for my liking. I wonder if there are others in the town who might have fallen out with Montacute over the years? Or was Catherwood just implying that there were others who hated the old banker in an attempt to deflect suspicion away from himself?’ said Ravenscroft, quickening his pace.
‘If Catherwood did not kill Montacute, then who did? Rivers? Leewood? Both must be strong suspects, sir.’
‘Talking of Leewood, let us call in the mail office and see if we have had a reply to your telegram.’
A few minutes later the two men entered the mail office in the centre of the town.
‘Ah, Inspector Ravenscroft. I have a telegram from Hereford for you,’ said the clerk, handing over the piece of paper.
‘Thank you, my good man,’ said Ravenscroft, reading the message.
‘Well, Crabb, this looks interesting. It appears that Leewood managed to escape from Hereford gaol last week – and that no one has seen or heard of him since!’
CHAPTER FIVE
LEDBURY, 2 JANUARY 1889
The following morning, Ravenscroft stepped out of his cottage in Church Lane to discover that more snow had fallen during the night, and that the ground had become frozen by the late frost.
‘Need to be careful, sir,’ said Crabb, as the two men met up outside the police station.
‘Any news of the escaped convict, Leewood?’
‘None, sir. The Hereford police have posters up all over the town, and I have informed the stations in Malvern and Worcester to keep a lookout in case he shows up there. It seems he escaped two days before Christmas.’
‘Well done, Crabb. I wonder where the fellow is now? He can’t have got far in this weather, without any food or money.’
‘I suppose some former associate could be sheltering him? I went to Smoke Alley earlier this morning with a couple of the men but there was no sign of him there. I see what you mean when you said it resembled your old haunts in Whitechapel,’ said Crabb, stamping his feet on the ground in an attempt to keep warm.
‘I suppose that is probably the last place he would go to, knowing that it would be the first place we would go looking for him.’
‘So you think Leewood could be our killer, sir?’
‘He certainly had cause to seek his revenge on the old man, and he was certainly at large on New Year’s Eve. However, it would have been extremely difficult for him to have obtained a poisonous liquid, and even more difficult for him to have slipped into the Feathers unnoticed. By coming back to Ledbury, where he was known, he would be sure to be seen and arrested sooner or later. If I had been Leewood, I would have put a great distance between the county and myself after my escape,’ said Ravenscroft, turning up the collar of his coat and pulling his hat further down his head.
‘He could have travelled west into Wales?’ suggested Crabb.
‘Possibly. Of course, we are assuming that Leewood would have behaved in a rational manner, whereas in fact his intense bitterness towards Montacute might have overridden common sense. Either way, we won’t know if he did kill Montacute until we’ve caught him.’
‘Where are we going today, sir?’
‘I sent word to The Gables, earlier this morning, saying that we would be calling on Mrs Montacute and would be desirous of speaking with her.’
‘Right, sir.’
The two men made their way from the high street and towards The Gables.
‘Thinking back to yesterday, Crabb, I find it strange that Catherwood remained in Ledbury after the end of his financial involvement with Montacute. You would have thought he would have sold up and gone back to Yorkshire. There was nothing to keep him here in Ledbury – so why did he not leave?’ said Ravenscroft, treading carefully on the frozen road.
‘Perhaps he could not afford to move?’
‘I would have thought the sale of his home and grounds would have netted a tidy sum. No. There has to be another reason why Cat
herwood has remained here all these years.’
‘Waiting for his time to kill Montacute?’
‘Rather a long time to wait to extract his revenge, don’t you think? He could have killed Montacute years ago – no need to wait until now.’
‘Perhaps he is wanted in Yorkshire for some previous crime he committed long ago, and was afraid to go back there?’
‘Whatever the reason, it does not seem to add up. Why stay in a town where you are regarded as some kind of strange recluse, and where your greatest enemy lives just down the road? We will need to enquire further into the affairs of Mr Catherwood.’
A voice interrupted their conversation. ‘Good day to you, gentlemen!’
‘Good morning, Mr Rivers. We were just on our way to The Gables to see Mrs Montacute,’ said Ravenscroft, observing that the gamekeeper was carrying a shotgun under his arm.
‘You don’t want me, then? I’m off to the woods, shooting pheasants,’ Rivers told them.
‘No, we have no need to question you at the present. Mrs Chambers has confirmed that you were in the kitchen between eleven thirty and a quarter to twelve last night. Why did you not remain in the kitchens to see in the New Year, Mr Rivers?’ asked Ravenscroft, looking the gamekeeper full in the face.
‘Thought I told you – I was out looking for poachers.’
‘So you did, Mr Rivers, so you did,’ said Ravenscroft, smiling.
The gamekeeper gave a shrug of his shoulders before striding away in the direction of the woods.
‘You still suspect him, sir?’ enquired Crabb.
‘At the present time I don’t know who is the more likely suspect – Leewood, Catherwood or Rivers. Ah, here we are at The Gables. Let us see whether Mrs Montacute is well enough to see us today.’
Ravenscroft rang the bell and the maid opened the door.
‘Good morning. It is Inspector Ravenscroft and Constable Crabb to see Mrs Montacute, if you please. I believe we may be expected.’
‘If you will just wait here, sir,’ said the maid, showing the two men into the hall.
