The Inspector Ravenscroft Mysteries Box Set

by Kerry Tombs

  ‘I have no way of telling. The truth of the matter may never be revealed. Most of the members of that shooting party are now dead. Lord Treaves was not at the actual shoot, so we only have Ganniford’s word that it was an accident.’

  ‘I suppose so, but what an ingenious plan, to bring all the people he hated to Tewkesbury, using the story of the Templar Knight and his long lost treasure to bring them there.’

  ‘And enrolling the services of his friend Crosbie to make them believe that the treasure was there for the taking. I suppose he could not resist the use of all those names. It was very clever of you, my dear, to have spotted that,’ said Ravenscroft, stirring the embers of the fire with the poker.

  ‘Samuel, can I ask you something?’ asked Lucy after a moment’s silence had elapsed.

  ‘Yes, my dear, of course.’

  ‘I hope you will not object.’

  ‘How could I refuse you anything?’

  ‘Well, you know that you are going to Meysey Hampton next Tuesday, now that you have been granted permission by the bishop to open that tomb. I should so like to go with you. It all sounds rather exciting.’

  ‘Of course you shall come with me. How can I deny you? I must say that I am rather looking forward to the occasion. It was Salt who finally solved the puzzle of the inscription on the side of the tomb after all these centuries, thus enabling Tom and I to visit the village of Meysey Hampton, where we were fortunate enough to find the old tomb with the inscription above it. Let us hope that we can now finally reveal the secret of Sir Roger de la Pole.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SIR ROGER’S SECRET REVEALED

  A few days later, Ravenscroft and Lucy found themselves walking up the pathway towards the front entrance of the church in the village of Meysey Hampton.

  ‘What a beautiful village,’ remarked Lucy. ‘It would be nice to live in such a place.’

  ‘I thought you were content to reside in Ledbury,’ replied Ravenscroft.

  ‘Good morning to you, sir, and Mrs Ravenscroft,’ said a smiling Tom Crabb emerging from the porchway of the church.

  ‘Good morning to you, Tom. I trust everything is ready for the opening of the tomb?’

  ‘Yes, sir. The clergyman is waiting for us inside the building.’

  ‘I wonder what we will find inside the tomb?’ asked Lucy.

  ‘Whatever it was, the old Templar thought it to be of sufficient value to have left such baffling instructions to be carved on the outside of his tomb in Tewkesbury after his death.’

  ‘I wonder if he ever thought that one day someone would work out the answer,’ said Lucy.

  ‘I think he rather hoped that someone would. After all, why go to that trouble to construct a mystery if you did not want it to be solved at some later date? Clearly whatever he was hiding was of great value to him,’ replied Ravenscroft.

  ‘After you, Mrs Ravenscroft, and you, sir,’ said Tom opening the door of the church.

  Ravenscroft led the way into the church and made his way up the nave followed by the others.

  ‘Mr Ravenscroft,’ said the clergyman, coming forward to meet them.

  ‘Reverend,’ said Ravenscroft shaking the other’s hand. ‘May I introduce you to my wife, Mrs Ravenscroft. Constable Crabb you know already. I trust you have no objection to Mrs Ravenscroft being present?’

  ‘None at all. You are most welcome, my dear lady.’

  ‘That is very kind,’ replied Lucy, smiling.

  ‘It is very important that there are witnesses who can observe such an occasion. After all, it is not every day that one opens a tomb that has remained sealed for centuries. I must confess to being somewhat apprehensive as to what we might find enclosed within,’ said Anson.

  ‘Perhaps we should begin?’ suggested Ravenscroft.

  ‘This way, gentlemen, and lady,’ said the clergyman, walking over to the old stone sarcophagus.

  ‘Crabb, if you would oblige us by beginning with the hammer and chisel?’ instructed Ravenscroft.

  ‘Right, sir,’ said Crabb, removing his coat and placing the edge of the chisel at the edge of the covering of the tomb.

  Ravenscroft and the others watched as Crabb struck the chisel with the hammer and gradually drove the edge of the tool further into the small gap he had made.

  Lucy gently squeezed her husband’s arm.

  ‘I think that will do, Crabb,’ said Ravenscroft, after a few moments had passed. ‘Reverend, perhaps you will be kind enough to assist Constable Crabb and myself in attempting to slide the lid across?’

  ‘Certainly, Inspector.’

  Ravenscroft, Crabb and Anson struggled to inch the covering slowly across the top of the tomb, as an anxious Lucy stood watching.

  ‘I think that should enable us to see inside the grave. If we push any more the lid may slide off completely and we will have the deuce of a job to lift it up again and replace it,’ said Ravenscroft. ‘Stand back, gentlemen — let in some light so that I can see what there is inside.’

  ‘What can you see, my dear sir?’ enquired the clergyman wiping his brow.

  ‘There seems to be something here,’ said Ravenscroft leaning forward and extending his arm into the tomb. ‘Ah, I have it!’

  Lucy, Crabb and Anson edged forward.

  ‘A box!’ exclaimed Anson.

  ‘Indeed. A simple, plain wooden box,’ replied Ravenscroft examining the recovered item.

  ‘Nothing else, sir?’ enquired Crabb looking somewhat crestfallen.

  ‘No. The tomb appears to be completely empty, except for this box.’

  ‘It is rather small,’ said Lucy, disappointed.

  ‘Yes. I would say it cannot be more than four inches in length.’

  ‘Hardly large enough to contain a golden goblet,’ added Crabb.

  ‘I think the lid may lift,’ announced Ravenscroft, placing the box on top of the tomb. ‘There may be something inside.’

  The others eagerly crowded round as Ravenscroft prised open the lid.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Crabb.

  ‘It seems to be an old leather bag. Curiouser and curiouser. Just an old bag,’ said Ravenscroft.

  ‘What an extraordinary thing to bury inside a tomb,’ said a perplexed Anson.

  ‘I believe there may be something inside it,’ declared Ravenscroft.

  ‘Perhaps there is some treasure after all,’ said a hopeful Crabb.

  Ravenscroft tipped the contents of the bag into his hand.

  ‘Sand!’ exclaimed Anson. ‘A handful of sand!’

  ‘Sand! Where is the sense in that?’ said a puzzled Crabb.

  ‘Why bury a handful of sand?’ asked Lucy.

  ‘It appears then, my friends, that we have no treasure,’ said the clergyman shaking his head.

  ‘How extraordinary,’ added Lucy, shaking her head.

  ‘Why go to all that trouble, creating that code on the side of his tomb in the abbey in Tewkesbury, to lead us here to another tomb, which contains only an old leather bag full of sand? It just don’t make any sense,’ said Crabb.

  ‘A mystery indeed,’ remarked Anson.

  Ravenscroft remained deep in thought.

  ‘It looks as though your Sir Roger de la Pole had a sense of humour,’ suggested Lucy.

  ‘No, I think it is more than that. I believe that Sir Roger had indeed believed that he brought back gold from the Holy Land — but instead of the gold of a precious relic, he brought back something which he considered to be of a far greater value,’ said Ravenscroft.

  ‘I don’t understand you, sir,’ said Crabb.

  ‘He brought back some of the golden sand from a land which had borne witness to the great events of Christendom — sand which Christ himself may well have trodden on. To the old crusader that was treasure indeed.’

  * * *

  A few minutes later, Ravenscroft and Lucy made their way down the pathway of the churchyard towards the waiting trap.

  ‘So, there you have it, my dear,’ said Ravenscr
oft. ‘I hope you were not too disappointed.’

  ‘It would have been nice if the tomb had contained a golden chalice or something of a similar nature, but I can understand why your Sir Roger valued the sand above all other.’

  ‘Yes, the old knight had travelled far and wide, and when he left the Holy Land he chose not the material wealth of gold and precious stones to take away with him, but a simple handful of sand. That was wealth enough for him, and he was ensuring that his gift would be passed down to any future crusader knight who one day might decipher the inscription on his tomb. Anyway, the case is now closed. I think we can now leave Sir Roger in peace inside his tomb in Tewkesbury. At least no one else will want to disturb his bones in the future. Now, my dear, I have something of a surprise for you,’ announced Ravenscroft.

  ‘And I also have a surprise for you, Samuel,’ said Lucy, linking her arm with that of her husband. ‘But tell me yours first.’

  ‘Tomorrow we shall journey up to London, where I have secured two seats for the evening performance at the Savoy of Mr Gilbert and Mr Sullivan’s new operetta The Gondoliers!’

  ‘Oh, Samuel, that is so exciting!’

  ‘And I am sure there will be time for us to include a visit to one or two of the museums in Kensington, and perhaps even take in Westminster Abbey.’

  ‘Oh, Samuel, you are so wonderful,’ said a happy Lucy, placing a kiss on her husband’s cheek.

  ‘You deserve every moment of it, my dear. If it was not for you, I don’t believe that I would ever have solved the case. But now, tell me your surprise?’

  ‘Well, I hope you will be pleasantly surprised,’ said a smiling Lucy, coyly.

  ‘You are teasing me, my love.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose I am — but yes, I am sure you will be more than a little pleased when I tell you my news . . .’

  POSTSCRIPT

  The Templar’s ‘treasure’ was reinterned inside the ancient tomb, which can be seen today in the village church of Meysey Hampton.

  Robert Ross was buried next to his brother in a small village churchyard in Gloucestershire.

  Many people still visit Tewkesbury Abbey today to view the ancient monuments — and some have even attempted — in vain — to understand the meaning of the strange letters on the outside of the tomb of Sir Roger de la Pole, the Templar Knight.

  THE END

  Book 5:

  THE DROITWICH

  DECEIVERS

  A captivating Victorian murder mystery

  Kerry Tombs

  For Joan — with love, for all her help

  and encouragement over the years

  PROLOGUE

  DROITWICH RAILWAY STATION, NOVEMBER 1889

  She stood on the cold, empty platform, holding the child of her joy and sin close to her shaking body, watching the train disappearing from view, through wet sorrowful eyes, and wondering how the pattern of her life had bought her to this unwelcoming place.

  Drawing the shawl ever closer round the baby to protect the infant from the bitter wind, she began to walk quickly towards the waiting-room at the end of the platform, and pushed open the creaking door.

  Relieved to discover that the room was empty of passengers, she sought the end of the old wooden bench near the grate which contained the burnt out remains of yesterday’s fire, and placed the brown parcel on the seat beside her, before looking down into the face of her sleeping child — the child she had never thought possible, the child who had arrived so unexpectedly, the child who had been scorned by others, and who now lay peacefully in her arms.

  Presently she turned her attention to the large clock which adorned one of the white washed-walls of the room, and for the next few minutes anxiously watched as the large hand moved on steadily. She wished with all her heart that she could halt its progress, but knew that now the decision had been made she could do little to alter that which had been set in motion.

  As the hand reached the end of the hour, she grew restless and concerned. She had half expected the couple to meet her upon her arrival, then, once the train had arrived and departed, depositing and collecting no one, she had told herself that perhaps she had failed to comprehend the instructions within the letter: that the hour had been incorrect, or that she had mistaken the day. Now as the hand crept forwards into its next circle of time, she resolved to leave at the completed quarter, to give up her resolution and return once more to the scene of her disgrace.

  Suddenly the door opened and a short, grey-haired woman, wearing a black bonnet and long coat stood on the threshold. ‘You must be Alice?’ she said smiling.

  She had expected someone different, had assumed that the woman would be younger, and that her husband would be with her. ‘Yes,’ was all the young woman could reply.

  ‘I am sorry I was delayed, my dear.’

  ‘I thought your husband—’

  ‘Detained on business in the city.’

  She turned away from the new arrival and looked down at her baby.

  ‘And is this your child?’ asked the woman in a soft almost musical tone of voice, and smiled again as she seated herself beside her. ‘What is her name, my dear?’

  ‘Lily,’ she answered in a voice that seemed like a distant forced whisper to its owner.

  ‘Lily. What a pretty name! You would not object if we added Ann to her name, in memory of my late daughter, Clarisa Ann. There is hardly a day goes by when we do not think of her, the poor child. My husband and I would so like that, if we could call her Lily Ann,’ said the woman sniffing, and bringing a handkerchief quickly to her eyes.

  ‘Lily. That is her name,’ Alice replied protectively drawing the child towards her.

  ‘Of course my dear. I understand. May I hold the child?’

  Alice looked into the woman’s face unsure whether she would find kindness there amidst the well-worn features and tired eyes.

  ‘May I?’ repeated the woman, in a firmer tone of voice.

  ‘I should want to know that she be taken well care of.’

  ‘And so she shall, my dear,’ replied the other reassuringly. ‘As I said in my letter, my husband and I are so distraught by our loss. We only require some companionship in our old age. That is all we seek. We know that our lovely, sweet innocent daughter can never be given back to us, but the good Lord has sent you to us, in our hour of need. God be praised! Your child — Lily Ann — will want for nothing, I can assure you. My husband is an important man in the city and we live in a pretty, neat little house in Cheltenham, with two servants to attend to our every need.’

  ‘Two servants?’ she looked up, her eyes widening at the thought.

  ‘Why yes. Mr Huddlestone would not have it any other way. We have all the comforts of a good Christian life. Upon my return today, I will hire a nurse to care for Lily Ann, and when she is older I will engage a private tutor to teach her to read and write and instruct her in the best of manners.’

  ‘A tutor!’ Alice exclaimed, almost unable to accept what she was being told by this strange woman.

  ‘Your child will want for nothing when she is with us. You can rest assured that we will bring her up as if she were our own.’

  ‘You are so very kind.’

  ‘No, it is you who is kind, my dear. Why I said to Mr Huddlestone only yesterday that if we could bring a little Christian happiness into this ungrateful, sinful world, then our lives would not have been in vain. I believe that we have all been placed on this earth to fulfil God’s purpose. May I?’ smiled the woman reaching out to receive the child. ‘Why, what lovely features she has. She is not unlike our dear Clarisa Ann in that respect.’

  ‘Please let me have her back,’ Alice pleaded, suddenly realizing that she had given away that which she valued above all other. ‘Give me back my daughter!’

  ‘Now then my dear, don’t you go fretting and upsetting yourself. That will do neither you nor the baby any good. We mean her no harm, you know that.’

  ‘But she is my daughter!’

  ‘And
what can you do for her, my dear, a poor servant girl like you? You will be fortunate indeed to find another position in your circumstances. No one wants an unmarried mother with a young child, these days. People have to be so careful; they cannot afford the disgrace. There is always the workhouse — but what start in life is that for the child? Such cold, unfeeling places. She would be fortunate indeed to survive the first year. I suppose the father does not want to do anything for you both? No, I thought not. They never do,’ reprimanded the woman, shaking her head from side to side.

  ‘No,’ was all she could reply, and as she turned away tears again began to come to her eyes.

  ‘You know that little Lily Ann will be better cared for with me and my husband. We can give her so much. But of course if you would rather bring up the child yourself?’

  ‘No. I cannot.’

  ‘You are doing the correct thing, my dear. The good Lord will look down upon you in future years and will bless you for your charity in giving Lily Ann this opportunity to better herself. You could not deny her that, my dear, could you?’

  ‘No,’ she sobbed.

  ‘Good, then that is all decided upon. I think I hear my train drawing into the station,’ announced the woman rising suddenly her the seat, whilst cradling the child in her arms. ‘Now my dear, I don’t like to mention it, but there is the question of a certain . . .’ her voice trailed away.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said the young mother reaching into her pocket, from which she withdrew a crumpled envelope.

  ‘Just to cover our initial expenses, as agreed. Five pounds, my dear?’

  ‘It is all I have,’ Alice replied looking up into the woman’s eyes as she passed over the envelope.

  ‘You must look upon it as investment for your baby, my dear. Believe me I would not ask for anything, but Mr Huddlestone is quite particular in these matters,’ said the woman adopting a firmer tone as she pushed the envelope into her coat pocket. ‘And that must be the parcel?’