by Kerry Tombs
‘Yes, but if that was so, why did he then kill Miss Martin before he had chance to marry her?’
‘Maybe she found out that Cherrington had poisoned Jones, so he was left with no other choice than to poison her as well.’
‘The dreadful man! You must bring him to book, Samuel.’
‘Easier said than done. We have to remember that we are dealing with a very cleaver, cunning man, and that he was acquitted by a jury. We also have no evidence that he poisoned either Miss Martin or Jones. Unless I can find the arsenic on him and break him down with our questions, there may not be much chance of arresting him, but I tell you, Lucy, I intend to have a very good go. He will not escape the law this time. But enough of all this. You have decided to go to Weymouth later this morning?’
‘I think I should wait a day or two until this case is over. I’d so like you to come as well,’ said Lucy smiling.
‘And I should like to accompany you and the boys. No, I think you should definitely go this morning. After all you have made the reservations and Susan will be going with you to take care of little Arthur. I will follow on in a day or so, later in the week I promise, as soon as I have extracted a confession from Cherrington. There will still be a few days we can share together.’
‘No, I am quite happy to wait, at least until tomorrow,’ offered Lucy.
‘No, I will not hear of it. You will go. I insist upon it.’
‘Very well, if you are sure that you can take care of yourself whilst we are away?’
‘Lucy, my dear, I was used to looking after myself for forty years before I met you, so I am sure that I will not starve for a day or so, and there is always the local inns if I do get desperate. I shall miss you all horribly, but I know that a week in Weymouth will be of great benefit to you all. So there is an end to the matter. What time does your train depart?’
* * *
‘An interesting account, sir,’ said Crabb cracking the whip as the trap made its way along the winding back lane that lead into the town later that morning.
‘Yes, Cherrington, or Quinton, to give him his proper name, has been quite devious, but this time I mean to bring him to account for all his crimes,’ replied a determined Ravenscroft.
‘I wonder how many other poor women he has trapped and married over the years?’
‘Who knows, but I intend to find out. I don’t believe for one minute all that nonsense he gave us about tea plantations in India, and smoking cigarettes with Turkish gentlemen on boats on the way home. Waiting for funds to arrive indeed.’
‘Mrs Ravenscroft managed to catch the train then, sir?’ asked Crabb changing the subject.
‘Yes, thank you, Tom. I must say I am rather envious of them.’
‘Never mind, sir. We will soon have this Cherrington under lock and key.’
‘I hope so, Tom. I hope so.’
Crabb bought the horse to a standstill at the end of the driveway, and he and Ravenscroft made their way towards the front door, just as a familiar figure was leaving the property.
‘Ah, Mr Cherrington, we were just on our way to have a few words with you,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘Can’t wait, I’m afraid. Have just heard that my funds might have arrived. On my way to the bank to verify the news. Have to leave your questions until later. Sorry, but I am sure you understand?’ replied a breezy Cherrington, about to walk away.
‘I’m afraid it can’t wait, Mr Cherrington. I must insist that we have a few words with you now. It is most urgent,’ said Ravenscroft firmly.
‘Well, I don’t know, this is most annoying,’ complained Cherrington.
‘You could always accompany us to the police station of course, and we could continue the conversation there,’ suggested Ravenscroft.
‘Look, no need for that, Ravenscroft. No need at all. I suppose I can put off the bank. After four weeks of waiting for my money to arrive, I don’t suppose another few minutes will cause any delay.’
‘Thank you, Mr Cherrington. Perhaps if we could speak with you in the privacy of your own room?’
‘Must be serious then. Yes, if you would care to follow me, gentlemen,’ said Cherrington opening the door to the lodging house.
Ravenscroft and Crabb followed their suspect up the two flights of stairs and onto the upper landing, where Cherrington unlocked the door to his rooms.
‘Can I offer you two gentlemen a drink or a cigarette?’ offered their host, as Ravenscroft and Crabb seated themselves in the living room.
‘No thank you, sir,’ replied Ravenscroft, as Crabb took out his pocketbook.
‘I hope you don’t mind if I do?’ asked Cherrington lighting a cigarette before sitting on the armchair before the burnt out remains of the previous night’s fire.
‘We have come about Miss Martin,’ began Ravenscroft.
‘Terrible business. The poor woman. I say, I hope you don’t think I had anything to do with her death, do you? I hardly knew the woman.’
‘I do not think that is quite the case, Mr Cherrington. In fact I think you knew Miss Martin quite well.’
‘I don’t quite know where you get that idea from,’ protested Cherrington leaning back in his chair and blowing smoke out into the room.
‘I think you were going to marry her, to acquire her money,’ said Ravenscroft coming quickly to the matter in hand.
‘That is an absurd idea,’ laughed Cherrington. ‘Quite absurd. The woman had no attraction for me at all, and anyway she was apparently as poor as a church mouse.’
‘Oh, how did you know that, Mr Cherrington?’
‘It was obvious she had no money, otherwise she would not have been residing in this miserable little place. I find the suggestion that Miss Martin and I were in anyway attached to be quite ridiculous.’
‘It is not so ridiculous as it sounds, Captain Quinton,’ said Ravenscroft emphasizing the last two words as he leaned forwards.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand,’ said Cherrington with a look of bewilderment.
‘You don’t remember the Pimlico Poisoning case then?’ asked Ravenscroft studying his suspect intently over the top of his spectacles.
‘What on earth was that?’ laughed Cherrington.
‘A young woman who was cruelly poisoned over twenty years ago. I was there, Captain Quinton. I interviewed you and bought you to court,’ said Ravenscroft anxious to press home his advantage.
‘Look, what on earth are you talking about man? What on earth was this Paddington Poisoning case?’
‘Pimlico, Mr Cherrington, Pimlico not Paddington,’
‘Wherever it was then,’ replied Cherrington showing slight signs of annoyance.
‘You don’t remember, Captain Quinton, how Inspector Robertson and a young constable interviewed you after the poisoning of the young woman?’
‘Of course I don’t. I’ve never heard of the Pimlico Poisoning case, or this Robertson person, or indeed this Quinton fellow. Quite clearly you are confusing me with someone else, inspector. You say all this was over twenty years ago? Clearly your memory is at fault, Ravenscroft, after all this length of time,’ said Cherrington before inhaling deeply on his cigarette.
‘Very clever, Mr Cherrington, but it will not do. I remember the case as though it were yesterday. You may have changed your appearance since then, but I still recognized you, Captain Quinton,’ persisted Ravenscroft feeling slightly uneasy that he was in danger of losing his earlier advantage.
‘Look, Ravenscroft, you have got all this horribly wrong. I am certainly not this Quinton that you seem to insist I am. I have never been to Pimlico in my life, and I have certainly never poisoned anyone either then, or now. Perhaps it would be better if you went,’ said Cherrington rising from his chair.
‘One moment, sir. If you are Mr Cherrington as you claim, then you will not have any objection if my constable makes a search of your rooms?’
‘As a matter of fact I do. I consider that would be a gross infringement of personal property. This is all nonsens
e, Ravenscroft, utter nonsense. I have said quite plainly that you have confused me with this man Quinton. When you realize your mistake, I will be prepared to accept your apology.’
‘Very neat, Captain Quinton,’ smiled Ravenscroft.
‘Will you stop calling me Captain Quinton. My name is Cherrington. I have always been Cherrington. I have never been this Quinton. I have poisoned no one. Now I suggest you go otherwise I will have recourse to my lawyer,’ said Cherrington growing more and more angry.
‘Ah, Mr Sefton Rawlinson, no doubt,’ mocked Ravenscroft standing up and confronting his suspect.
‘Who on earth is Sefton? For goodness sake, Ravenscroft, let’s have an end to all this nonsense. I have an urgent appointment to keep at the bank.’
‘Ah yes, your funds from India.’
‘Yes, that is correct. Now if you will excuse me.’
‘I don’t believe there are any funds arriving from India. In fact, Mr Cherrington, I don’t believe you have ever been to India let alone grown tea out there, or anywhere else for that matter,’ said a heated Ravenscroft.
‘You are quite wrong about all this, Ravenscroft, quite wrong.’
‘I don’t think so, Quinton. I suggest that my constable and I accompany you to your bank. We will see if these so called funds actually exist.’
‘There is no need for all this.’
‘Oh, I think there is. Would you like to lead the way Captain,’ insisted Ravenscroft.
Cherrington gave a quick look of annoyance, and then a half smile, as he lead the way out of the room.
* * *
‘Ah good morning to you, Mr Cherrington,’ said the clerk behind the counter.
‘Good morning, Baylis. I understand that my funds have arrived from Delhi?’ asked Cherrington.
‘Ah yes, sir. If you would care to wait a moment, sir, I will ask Mr Mortimer the manager to speak with you,’ replied the clerk.
‘That is most kind,’ smiled Cherrington glancing in Ravenscroft and Crabb’s direction. ‘You will see that you have been mistaken in these slanders, Ravenscroft.’
The detective said nothing, but could not help feeling uneasy.
‘Good morning Mr Cherrington,’ said the manager appearing from the inner room and shaking his client’s hand vigorously. ‘And how may we be of assistance to you today?’
‘I understand that my funds have finally been transferred from Delhi,’ said Cherrington.
‘I am sorry, I don’t quite understand who these two gentlemen are?’ asked the manager giving Ravenscroft and Crabb a suspicious glance.
‘Forgive me, sir,’ said Ravenscroft stepping forwards. ‘My name is Inspector Ravenscroft and this is my colleague, Constable Crabb. We have been investigating the poisonings at Talbots’ Lodging House.’
‘Yes, we have heard about them. An awful business,’ sympathized the manager.
‘We have a number of people to interview in our investigations, of whom Mr Cherrington is one,’ continued Ravenscroft. ‘Mr Cherrington claims that he has just returned from India, and that he is waiting for funds to be transferred from there. I wonder if you could be good enough to either confirm or deny this for us, Mr Mortimer?’
‘I am sorry, but I cannot disclose private information concerning a client, inspector. That would be quite unethical, as I am sure you understand.’
‘That is quite all right, Mortimer,’ added Cherrington. ‘I am quite happy for the inspector to be made fully aware of my financial activities. After all, I have nothing to hide.’
‘Well yes sir, I am pleased to confirm that your funds from Delhi have finally arrived this morning. I can only apologize for the delay,’ said the manager giving a slight bow.
‘That is quite all right, Mortimer,’ smiled Cherrington turning to face Ravenscroft.
‘So it is true that Mr Cherrington is in receipt of funds from India?’ asked a somewhat startled Ravenscroft.
‘Of course, sir. I have just said so,’ replied the manager.
‘Thank you, Mortimer,’ said Cherrington.
‘If you would care to draw on them at any time my bank and staff are at your disposal. We can also advise you on any investment you might care to make.’
‘Thank you. I wonder if I could withdraw twenty pounds for today?’ asked Cherrington.
‘Of course, sir. Baylis, will you be so kind as to give Mr Cherrington twenty pounds,’ instructed Mortimer.
‘Yes, sir,’ replied the clerk. ‘How would you like the notes, sir?’
‘Perhaps three five pound notes and the rest in ones, if you please.’
‘Thank you, sir, and if there is anything else I can do for you now?’ asked the manager.
‘Well actually there is. I intend leaving Pershore at the end of the week. I will be travelling to London and staying for a while at my club. If you could transfer the remainder of my account to your branch in Piccadilly I would be obliged,’ said Cherrington.
‘Certainly, sir. If you would care to call in tomorrow I will have all the paper work arranged,’ smiled Mortimer giving another little bow.
‘Thank you, Mortimer. Until then.’
The clerk rushed to open the door for Cherrington and the two detectives.
‘Good day to you, sir,’ said Ravenscroft addressing the manager as he began to leave the bank.
‘Well, Ravenscroft, I hope that you are now satisfied? Let us have an end to all this nonsense,’ said Cherrington as the three men stood outside the building.’ Now if you will excuse me, I have a great deal to attend to before my departure. I wish you good day, sir.’
CHAPTER NINE
PERSHORE
‘Confound the smug arrogance of the man,’ grumbled Ravenscroft as he and Crabb downed a tankard of ale in one of the local hostelries.
‘He certainly had an answer for everything,’ said Crabb.
‘The delight he took in humiliating us in that bank. I could have sworn that he had been spinning us a tale all about those funds coming from India, and now confound it, the whole things turns out to be true.’
‘Forgive me for saying this, sir, but has the idea occurred to you that perhaps after all . . . well that you were . . . well,’ began Crabb somewhat hesitantly.
‘You mean am I mistaken, and is he really Cherrington? No. I am more than ever convinced that he was the same man I interviewed over twenty years ago in London concerning the Pimlico Poisoning case. What’s more, if he was guilty then, he is almost certainly guilty now.’
‘Right, sir,’
‘I am sure he poisoned Jones because he had encountered the dead man at some time in the past, and that Jones threatened to expose him for the charlatan he is. Cherrington then had to poison Miss Martin as well because she had found out that he had killed Jones. I can see no other reason why any of the other residents of Talbots’ would have committed the crimes,’ replied a sullen Ravenscroft.
‘Not even Mrs Jacobson?’ suggested Crabb.
‘Yes, I will acknowledge that there is something about that woman and her activities that concerns me, but there may be a perfectly reasonable and innocent explanation for her behaviour. No, I still believe that Cherrington, or rather Quinton, is our man. The problem is — how are we to confront him successfully with his crimes before we can extract a confession?’
‘We could search his rooms, sir? If we discovered arsenic in his possession, we would have our man.’
‘I think he would have Sefton Rawlinson, or his equivalent, onto us in no time, but the man is so devious he would in all probability have hidden the arsenic somewhere else. No, the only way we can hold him before he leaves the town would be to prove that he is Quinton and not Cherrington.’
‘How do we do that, sir?’
‘I don’t honestly know, Tom. The whole thing is a complete mess. If only we could establish some link between Jones and Quinton in the past. Of course, we have been forgetting one thing in all of this — Jones wasn’t the man’s real name!’ exclaimed Ravenscroft
&nbs
p; ‘You mean the pocket watch?’ asked Crabb.
‘Exactly. The inscription in the pocket watch said, Charles Murphy 1872. Assuming that the watch was actually owned by Jones, then that poses the question — why did Murphy call himself Jones?’
‘Because he was trying to conceal his real name?’
‘Yes, and people usually change their names because they have something to hide. They think by assuming another identity they can escape the past. I wonder what the man was doing with that nasty looking Webley in his possession?’
‘He could have been on the run from someone, and wanted the weapon to defend himself?’
‘A possibility, Tom, or perhaps he was planning a daring robbery or something similar, a robbery in which the gun would have been needed? Then we have also forgotten that letter, the one that people thought he was always expecting. I wonder if it ever arrived?’
‘If he had been on the run, why would he have been waiting for a letter. Would he not have wished to kept his whereabouts secret?’
‘I don’t know. Do you remember that fragment of a letter you found under the bed? I have it here still in my wallet,’ said Ravenscroft taking out the item and spreading it on the table. ‘S. WORCESTER. SEPTEMBER 12. 3.P.M. What do you think that means, Tom?’
‘Could have come from a letter sent to someone else? There’s no knowing how long it had been under that bed?’
‘Yes, I’m inclined to agree with you. It tells us nothing anyway. I don’t know why I kept it,’ sighed Ravenscroft.
‘Is not the day after tomorrow September 12?’
‘September 12?’
‘The scrap mentions September 12.’
‘I think you are right, Tom. It is the day after tomorrow. Was this part of a letter asking Jones/Murphy, to meet someone called ‘S’ in Worcester at three o’clock on that day? If that was the case, it does not say where in Worcester, nor why. I suppose that was on the remainder of the letter which has been destroyed.’
‘What do we do now, sir?’ asked Crabb.
