by Kerry Tombs
‘You see the reason I ask, is that if Miss Chilton had been taken against her will, she would in all probability have cried out in the ensuing struggle, in which case you would have heard the sounds and been alerted to her plight,’ suggested Ravenscroft.
‘I see. Yes I see. I suppose I must have closed the door behind me then, as I heard nothing.’
‘Thank you, Miss Petterson, that is most helpful,’ said Ravenscroft turning away. ‘I am not sure that much can be gained by continuing our investigations here tonight. Perhaps you would be kind enough to conduct us all back to the house, Mr Jukes. Quiet all of you! What is that noise?’
‘I can’t hear anything sir,’ said the servant.
‘Listen. I’m sure — yes, there it is again — a low grumbling kind of sound,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘I see what you mean, sir. Sounds more like a laughing sound to me,’ offered Crabb.
‘You’re right, Crabb. It sounds almost as though someone were laughing at us — a low, sarcastic, a mature voice I would think. Hold the lantern higher, Mr Jukes. Yes, over there. It’s coming from behind that large vault at the edge of the churchyard. Come out whoever you are! Show yourself!’ commanded Ravenscroft running towards the monument, closely followed by the others.
‘He’s gone!’ exclaimed Crabb bringing the other lantern to bear on the stone.
‘Over there, sir,’ cried out Jukes. ‘I saw something running out of the churchyard.’
‘Where does this path lead?’ asked Ravenscroft. ‘Look, there is someone running lower down the slope. Quickly, Crabb, get after him. We will follow on behind.’
The constable raced down the path after the disappearing figure, as Ravenscroft and his two companions followed.
A few moments later, Ravenscroft found himself at the foot of the path.
‘Gone sir. He was too quick for me,’ said a breathless Crabb.
‘Never mind Tom, you did your best, given the darkness and the unfamiliar terrain. Did you get a good look at him?’
‘Afraid not sir, but one thing I am sure about. It cannot have been the girl. I would say the figure was a full grown man by the size of him. Seemed to be wearing an old cloak.’
‘That’s interesting. Tell me, Miss Petterson, you said earlier that this path would eventually take one into the town?’
‘Yes, that is so,’ replied the governess.
‘Did anyone in the search party come down this way?’
‘No. After searching the churchyard and inside the church, it was thought that perhaps Mildred had returned to the house, so we all turned our attention there.’
‘I see. We appear to be quite close to the railway line, and if I am not mistaken that must be water over there,’ said Ravenscroft pointing.
‘That is the canal, sir,’ offered the servant, ‘And beyond that is the River Salwarpe.’
‘So there is a possibility that if Miss Chilton came this way, she could have met with an accident, either on the railway line, or by falling into the water.’
‘Oh no!’ cried out the governess.
‘Quickly Crabb — I think the lady is about to faint!’
CHAPTER THREE
DROITWICH
‘Anything to report constable?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘Nothing as yet sir. We have examined the railway track and can find nothing there, and the men have just started to drag the river,’ replied the uniformed officer.
It was the following morning, and Ravenscroft and Crabb had just arrived on the misty banks of the River Salwarpe, where a reluctant sun was attempting to break through the overhead clouds.
‘When you have finished here, I want the men to drag the canal for a few hundred yards in either direction.’
‘As you wish, sir.’
‘Where does the canal go?’ inquired Ravenscroft.
‘Further along that way to the salt works in the town. The barges then make their way along the canal in that direction for a few miles towards Hanbury,’ replied the policeman pointing.
‘And after Hanbury?’
‘That is where the canal joins the Worcester to Birmingham Canal, sir.’
‘I see. Thank you, my man. Please do not let us detain you,’ said Ravenscroft walking away. ‘This is a strange case, Tom. Young girl taken in broad daylight — snatched from under her governess’s nose, and yet there has been no demand for money.’
‘Strange indeed,’ replied Crabb.
‘Do you know what I find distinctively odd about all this? When the girl disappeared the servants apparently made a thorough search of the church and churchyard, and yet none was sent down here, to see whether the girl had made her way to the river or canal. Furthermore, why did they waste time sending for us, when they could have had the local constabulary making a search round here within minutes of the girl disappearing? In my experience, Tom, the first two or three hours are the most crucial in cases like this. By the time we arrived it was already dark and the trail had run cold.’
‘I see what you mean, sir.’
‘In fact I am not all that sure that Sir Charles Chilton was very concerned about the disappearance of his daughter; his wife seemed more distressed than he does.’
‘Yes, I noticed that, sir.’
‘And did you see how quickly he ushered us into the study, when we arrived last night, so that we could not engage his wife in conversation? He seemed quite anxious that we would not have words with her.’
‘The man is a bit of a bully I would say.’
‘Yes, I must say I did find him somewhat intimidating. I think Sir Charles Chilton is a man who is used to having his own way in this world. Not the kind of person to cross swords with.’
‘That governess is a queer fish as well,’ added Crabb. ‘Fancy leaving her charge unattended like that. Asking for trouble if you ask me.’
‘Quite. I agree it seems negligent on her part. She seemed very calm about the whole affair, however.’
‘Except when she fainted.’
‘Yes Tom, but do we believe what she is telling us? I don’t really accept that story about her going into the church, to see which hymns had been selected for next Sunday’s service. She only came up with that story when we pressed her. I suppose there is a remote possibility that she is telling us the truth, but if she did go into the church, it would surely have been natural for her to have left the door open, given that her charge was playing outside.’
‘It seems a bit careless,’ added Crabb.
‘She said she thought the door was closed, and claims that she heard nothing from outside. If the girl had been overpowered surely she would have cried out, and Miss Petterson would have heard, even though the door was closed, I would have thought.’
‘Girl could have been overpowered by some cloth held to the mouth that would have rendered her speechless?’ suggested Crabb.
‘You might be correct. Still I would like to know a lot more about our Miss Petterson.’
‘The girl could have left on her own account?’
‘In which case that would explain why there was no noise. I suppose she could have met someone she knew, and the two of them then left together, but at this stage all this is conjecture,’ said Ravenscroft glancing upwards to the church, on the large rocky outcrop, with its view over the river and canal.
‘Then there is that strange fellow in the churchyard,’ added Crabb.
‘Yes, I wonder what he was doing there at that time of night?’
‘Could have been some kind of vagrant.’
‘Perhaps. Anyway we need to try to find him.’
‘What do we do next, sir?’ asked Crabb.
‘Well in the absence of any body at present, and the fact that we have no witnesses to the time she disappeared, we must assume that the girl has been abducted. I will go back to the house and interview the servants. In my experience it is the servants who know everything that takes place in these large country houses. I will also try and interview Lady Chilton. It will be inter
esting to see what she has to say.’
‘And what would you like me to do, sir?’
‘I would like to know more about the governess. Go to the telegraph office and see if you can send a message to this Lord and Lady Roberts of Warminster. Ask them why the governess left, and whether they can vouch for her character. We need to know whether she has been telling us the truth. I noticed that there is an inn near the bottom of the path that leads up to the churchyard — the Gardeners Arms, I believe. It might be worth your while making enquiries there in case they saw anything yesterday. Then I want you to ask around the town and find out all you can about Sir Charles Chilton. See what folk make of him. I will meet you back at the house,’ instructed Ravenscroft beginning to make his way back up the path towards the churchyard.
* * *
‘Good morning to you, Inspector,’ said Brockway greeting Ravenscroft as he entered Hill Court.
‘Good morning Mr Brockway. I trust that there is still no news regarding young Miss Chilton?’ asked Ravenscroft closing the door behind him.
‘Nothing at all,’ replied the solicitor.
‘I have some men searching the river and canal. Hopefully they will not find anything, but we are bound to begin there.’
‘Of course. All of this has come as a great shock to Sir Charles and his wife. We must hope that this matter reaches a speedy, satisfactory conclusion.’
‘Indeed.’
‘I have that list you asked for, Inspector. These are all the people Sir Charles has done business with in the past few years,’ said Brockway reaching into the top pocket of his coat.
‘Thank you,’ said Ravenscroft taking the sheet of paper and studying its contents. ‘This is rather a long list of names.’
‘Sir Charles has dealings with a great many people,’ remarked the solicitor drily.
‘And is there anyone on this list who has, shall we say, had a falling out with Sir Charles, and perhaps bares a grudge against him?’ inquired Ravenscroft.
‘There is no one that immediately springs to mind.’
‘Oh, come now Mr Brockway, there must be someone on this list whom Sir Charles has had difficulties with recently?’
‘Well I suppose there is someone. Mr Russell. Mr James Russell. You will see his name towards the bottom of the paper,’ said Brockway reluctantly.
‘And who is this Mr Russell?’
‘He owns some land on the edge of the town, which he farms in a small way, a family concern I believe, inherited from his parents. You will find his property towards the end of Vines Lane.’
‘Why did Sir Charles and this Mr Russell fall out?’
‘Sir Charles wishes to purchase some of Mr Russell’s land. Mr Russell refuses to sell. It is as simple as that.’
‘And why does Sir Charles wish to purchase Mr Russell’s land?’ asked Ravenscroft with interest.
‘We — Sir Charles believes there is an old salt pit on the land.’
‘I see. And Sir Charles would wish to mine the salt deposits?’
‘Sir Charles has made an offer, a very generous offer for the land, well above its agricultural value.’
‘But Mr Russell does not wish to sell?’
‘Quite.’
‘Have any threats been made by this Mr Russell?’
‘Oh dear no. It has not come to that. I will admit that some sharp words have been exchanged on both sides on the matter, but there has never been anything of that nature. In fact I am sure that Mr Russell cannot be behind all this. I only mentioned his name because I was pressed. Now if you will excuse me Inspector, I have to attend a business meeting at the Raven Hotel,’ said Brockway after quickly consulting his pocket watch.
‘Is Sir Charles available to speak to me this morning?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘I am afraid Sir Charles has been called away on urgent business at nearby Stoke Prior.’
‘When do you expect his return?’
‘I am afraid I cannot say, Inspector.’
‘Then may I speak with Lady Chilton.’
‘Oh, I’m afraid that will not be possible.’
‘Why?’
‘Lady Chilton is not well today and is confined to her room: All this has proved a great strain for her, as I am sure you will appreciate.’
‘Nevertheless I would like to speak with her. She may be able to provide us with valuable information,’ said Ravenscroft determined not to be refused.
‘As I said, Lady Chilton is indisposed. Now you simply must excuse me. I am late already. Good day to you sir,’ said Brockway stepping quickly past Ravenscroft and out through the door.
Ravenscroft stood silently in the hall, contemplating the solicitor’s answers. Why had Brockway refused him permission to speak with Lady Chilton? Surely it would have been in the family’s interests for him to have interviewed the mother of the missing girl? She above all others, might well have been able to shed light on the mystery. Then there was the question of the list of names which Brockway had provided — so many names, and yet the solicitor had only been able to pick out the name of Russell, a local landowner, with whom Sir Charles had had a minor disagreement. Given the nature of the man, surely Sir Charles would have made more enemies over the years? Why had they not been mentioned? Russell’s name had come far too easily. Were Sir Charles and Brockway suggesting Russell whilst avoiding more serious contenders? There was no way of knowing at present. Nevertheless Ravenscroft resolved that he would seek out Russell, but first he needed to explore Hill Court in more detail. Old houses sometimes contained dark secrets. Often the servants were the custodians of these past secrets. He would begin with them.
Opening a door at the far end of the entrance hall, he found himself in a corridor, the door of which in turn opened into what he deemed to be a kind of dining-room. Here a fine set of hunting prints and numerous items of brass and copper were hung from the walls. The door at the far end of the room revealed another short passage that lead into the kitchens.
‘Ah Inspector Ravenscroft, good morning to you, sir. Is there any news of Miss Chilton?’
Ravenscroft recognised Jukes, the servant who had accompanied them to the churchyard the previous evening.
‘Good morning. No, we have nothing to report. But I see I am disturbing you both,’ replied Ravenscroft noticing also a plump, rosy-cheeked elderly woman seated at the kitchen table.
‘It is quite all right, sir. We usually have some refreshment at this time of day,’ said Jukes.
‘Please continue, Mr Jukes.’
‘May I introduce you to Mrs Greenway our cook.’
‘Mrs Greenway I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I wonder whether I might ask to join you for some refreshment? I must say it was rather chilly by the banks of the Salwarpe this morning.’
‘Of course, sir. Sit yourself down there by the stove. You’ll soon get warm there,’ said the cook in a cheery manner rising from the table.
‘Sir Charles does not usually encourage us to speak to folk from upstairs,’ said Jukes.
‘Well I won’t tell him, if you don’t,’ smiled Ravenscroft, accepting the seat and rubbing his hands near the stove.
‘Would you like a cup of tea, Mr Ravenscroft?’ asked the cook.
‘That would be most welcome, Mrs Greenway.’
The cook walked over to the dresser, took down a cup and saucer from the rack and returned to the table. ‘This will soon warm you up sir,’ she said pouring out the liquid from a large teapot. ‘Please help yourself to milk and sugar.’
‘You are most generous. My word, this is excellent tea,’ said Ravenscroft after he had sampled the brew.
‘Mrs Greenway makes the best tea in all of Worcestershire,’ proclaimed Jukes.
‘I can more than believe it,’ said Ravenscroft taking another sip.
‘Get away with you, Jukes. Perhaps you would care to sample a piece of my special homemade fruit cake, Inspector?’ smiled the cook.
‘Delighted I’m sure,’ replied Ravenscroft. �
�If it is half as good as the tea, I will consider myself to be a fortunate man.’
The cook cut a piece from the cake which adorned a china stand on the dresser, and placed it upon a blue patterned plate before handing it to the detective.
Jukes and the cook looked at Ravenscroft anxiously as he took a bite.
‘Mrs Greenway, this is just the best fruit cake I have ever eaten in all my life!’ exclaimed Ravenscroft. ‘Mr Jukes, you must be a happy man?’
‘Indeed I am sir,’ smiled the servant. ‘Mrs Greenway takes good care of us all. We servants want for nothing.’
‘Excellent, my dear lady,’ added Ravenscroft after swallowing another mouthful.
‘The recipe was handed down to me by my late grandmother, and she always claimed that it had been given to her by her grandmother, who said it had been given to her by a cook who worked for good Queen Anne!’ proclaimed the cook.
‘Well, what is good for Queen Anne is certainly more than welcome to me. You must let my wife have the recipe. I suppose you must have worked for Sir Charles and Lady Chilton for a number of years?’ inquired Ravenscroft.
‘For the past fifteen years sir.’
‘And you, Mister Jukes?’ continued Ravenscroft.
‘About ten years, but you were here before Sir Charles, were you not, Mrs Greenway?’
‘Yes. I was here when Master Peter was here — and before him when Master Christopher was the owner,’ replied the cook replenishing Ravenscroft’s cup.
‘Forgive me, but what relation were these gentlemen to Sir Charles?’ asked Ravenscroft interested in gaining all he could from the lady.
‘Sir Christopher were the father of Sir Charles and Master Peter. He was a real gentleman. Always asking after the servants’ welfare. Nothing was too much trouble. Looked after us all proper he did. There was always a generous present at Christmas there was. Master Peter was his eldest son, and he was a lovely man, but then he had been such a good child, so kind and gentle, a really loving child if you get my meaning,’ said the cook warming to her subject.
‘And what happened to Sir Christopher and Master Peter?’
‘Died sir. About ten years ago it was. Master Peter died suddenly. He went away one day on business to London and caught a fever there by all accounts. His death broke his father’s heart. He never go over it. Died himself a few months afterwards. They’re both buried in the churchyard yonder.’
