by Kerry Tombs
‘I want to know a lot more about this Murphy — and there was also a name on that gun — “John Elliott”, or something like that. If we are seeking a link between this Murphy and our Quinton, then we need to dig deeper into the man’s past. We will visit the telegraph office and send some urgent telegrams to my former colleagues at the Yard in London. Drink up, Tom.’
* * *
‘Well that is done,’ remarked Ravenscroft as he closed the door behind him and stepped out into the street.
‘When can we expect a reply?’ enquired Crabb.
‘Hopefully by tomorrow. I told the authorities that the matter was of some urgency. If we are to detain Quinton we must have the evidence before he leaves the town for good. Once he moves to London it will be a great deal harder to track him down. In the meantime I think we will return to the bank and see if we can obtain any more information regarding Quinton from the manager but I think that might just have to wait,’ said Ravenscroft as two familiar figures came slowly towards them.
‘Good day to you, inspector,’ said Miss Arabella Fanshaw.
‘Good day to you, Miss Fanshaw, and Miss Fanshaw,’ replied Ravenscroft raising his hat.
‘Good day to you, inspector,’ said Miss Clarisa Fanshaw. ‘And a lovely one at that.’
‘Indeed so, ladies.’
‘And how are your investigations proceeding, inspector?’ enquired Arabella.
‘Well, thank you, ladies,’ lied Ravenscroft. ‘We have been able to recover some items belonging to the dead man, Jones.’
‘How interesting,’ said Arabella looking keenly at him.
‘Yes, it seems that our Mr Jones was not called Jones at all. His pocket watch was engraved with the name “Charles Murphy”. I don’t suppose the name means anything to you ladies?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘Charles Murphy, you say? No, I don’t believe my sister, nor I, have any recollection of such a name,’ said Arabella.
‘Miss Fanshaw?’ asked Ravenscroft turning towards the younger sister.
‘No, inspector,’ replied Clarisa.
‘Thank you, ladies. We will of course inform you of any developments in the case,’ added Ravenscroft.
‘That is most kind of you. Thank you, inspector. We wish you a good day,’ said Arabella.
Ravenscroft raised his hat once more as the two sisters continued on their journey down the street.
‘Delightful ladies,’ said Crabb.
‘Indeed. Come, let us continue to the bank. But wait a moment. Who is that there on the other side of the street?’
‘Mrs. Jacobson, if I’m not mistaken,’ answered Crabb.
‘She seems in quite a hurry,’ said Ravenscroft as the figure receded into the distance. ‘What time is it, Tom?’
‘Just gone two, sir,’
‘The time I believe that Mrs Jacobson is in the habit of taking her walk. Wait until she turns the corner, then we will follow her and see where she is going,’ instructed Ravenscroft.
The two men walked quickly down the road and then peered cautiously round the corner building.
‘There she is, sir,’ indicated Crabb.
‘She appears to be walking through the Market Place. We will need to keep a sharp eye on her, if we are not to lose her amongst the crowd of buyers,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘I think she is turning into one of the buildings,’ said Crabb as the two men made their way through the busy market stalls.
‘You’re right and, if I am not mistaken, it is the Angel. She must be meeting someone there.’
‘Shall we follow her inside?’
‘Not at present. If she is meeting someone there, we need to know who it is. I think we should wait two or three minutes to allow time for this other person, whoever he or she is, to arrive. If we go in now and confront her, we may be too soon and it could warn the other person off.’
‘She could be meeting Cherrington.’
‘Or even our absent friend Claybourne, the insurance agent? Either way, we should know quite soon.’
After a few minutes had elapsed Ravenscroft and Crabb entered through the ornate doorway of the Angel Hotel.
‘Good afternoon, sir. How can I be of assistance to you?’ asked the young clerk standing behind the reception counter, who was busily engaged in writing in a large ledger. ‘A room for the night, perhaps?’
‘Good afternoon to you. In fact we would like some information regarding a young lady who entered your premises a few moments ago,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘To what young lady are you referring?’ asked the young man adopting a more formal tone of voice, and displaying a slight twitch of the nose as he did so.
‘A tall, dark-haired lady, by the name of Mrs Jacobson,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘I am sorry, sir, I have seen no one of that name enter our establishment,’ replied the clerk looking down his nose at the two policemen.
‘Come, my man, we have been watching your premises for several minutes now, and the only person to enter here during the past ten minutes has been Mrs Jacobson,’ said Ravenscroft raising his voice.
‘I’m sorry, sir, I cannot be of assistance to you,’ said the clerk slamming the register closed. ‘Our guests rely on our total discretion and confidentiality. Now if you will excuse me.’
‘Just one minute, my dear sir. My name is Detective Inspector Ravenscroft and this is my assistant Constable Crabb,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘Well if you are policemen, as you say you are, why is your assistant not wearing a police uniform?’ enquired the clerk casting a disparaging glance in Crabb’s direction.
‘Because when we are engaged in detective work it is not always necessary for my assistant to wear a police uniform; sometimes it is better if we are in plain clothes,’ retorted Ravenscroft. ‘Now sir, you have no doubt heard of the strange poisonings at Talbots’ Lodging House? I thought so. Well that is what my colleague and I are investigating. We believe that one of our suspects entered this establishment not five minutes ago. Either you confirm our observation, and tell me where the young lady went, or I will search every room in this building until I find her. This would cause a great deal of disturbance to your other guests, but if it has to be done, then so be it. I trust I make myself plain in this matter?’
‘Quite, sir. It was not my intention to withhold any information which might have been of police importance,’ muttered the young man growing red in the face. ‘But I can assure you that no one of the name of Jacobson has entered here. The lady who entered was a Miss Malltravers.’
‘Malltravers. An interesting name. And how often does this Miss Malltravers visit your establishment?’
‘About twice a week, sir, if I am not mistaken,’
‘And where does this “Miss Malltravers” go exactly?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘I would rather not say, sir,’ replied the clerk.
‘Come now, sir, the truth if you please,’ demanded Ravenscroft looking the clerk directly in the eyes.
‘Well, sir. She usually goes to room number three. I’m afraid there is a gentleman involved.’
‘There usually is,’ remarked Ravenscroft. ‘And what is the name of this gentleman if you please?’
‘Mr Harris, sir.’
‘Thank you, and where might we find this room?’
‘First floor, go up the stairs, turn left, second door on the right,’ replied the reluctant clerk. ‘In fact the gentleman usually requests a bottle of whisky and some glasses to be sent up to his room. I was just about to take them up.’
‘Thank you. Perhaps you would care to give them to me. I will see that they are safely delivered,’ smiled Ravenscroft.
The clerk disappeared from view and returned a few seconds later carrying a small silver tray on which a bottle and two glasses were placed.
‘Thank you,’ said Ravenscroft taking hold of the tray.
‘If I could emphasize discretion, gentlemen,’ called out the clerk as Ravenscroft and Crabb quickly walked up the stairs. ‘Discre
tion at all times if you would be so good.’
‘Wonder who Miss Malltravers is meeting?’ said Crabb.
‘I don’t know, but we shall soon find out,’ replied Ravenscroft tapping lightly on the door.
‘Yes?’ called a voice presently from within.
‘It is the waiter, sir. I have your refreshment, sir,’ replied Ravenscroft adopting a different voice.
‘Come.’
Ravenscroft pushed open the door and entered the room, closely followed by Crabb. A tall, thin, grey-haired man was seated on the bed, the buttons of his waistcoat undone. A woman faced the window, her back towards the room
‘Put them on the table,’ said the man.
The woman turned and let out a loud cry of surprise.
‘Whatever is the matter?’ asked the man jumping up off the bed.
‘He . . . he is a policeman!’ exclaimed a startled Mrs Jacobson.
‘What the devil—’ began the man.
‘My name is Detective Inspector Ravenscroft, and this is my colleague Constable Crabb,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘The devil you are! What do you mean by barging into a gentleman’s bedroom like this?’ demanded the man growing red in the face as he confronted Ravenscroft.
‘We are investigating the deaths of two people in Pershore. This lady, Mrs Jacobson, is under surveillance as one of the suspects in the case. We followed her here today,’ began Ravenscroft.
‘Deaths? What deaths?’ shouted the man.
‘Two people have died in suspicious circumstances at Talbots’ Lodging House, a gentleman by the name of Murphy, and a Miss Martin. I have questioned Mrs Jacobson about the poisonings, and as I have not been entirely satisfied with her answers, I considered it my duty to follow her here today.’
‘Poisonings? What poisonings?’ asked the man turning to face his distraught companion. ‘You did not mention any of this to me.’
‘I’m sorry, Hubert—’ began Mrs Jacobson.
‘Silence woman!’ reprimanded the man reaching out for his coat and walking briskly towards the door. ‘If you will excuse me, gentlemen.’
‘Crabb,’ instructed Ravenscroft.
‘Get out of my way, constable,’ growled the man staring hard at Crabb who had positioned himself by the exit.
‘Mr Harris, we need to ask you some questions before I can allow you to leave,’ said Ravenscroft firmly.
‘The deuce you will!’
‘Sir, I have to remind you that two people are dead, Mrs Jacobson remains a strong suspect, and you may be complicit in these murders for all we know,’ said Ravenscroft standing his ground as the man swung round and faced him in an aggressive manner.
‘This gentleman has nothing to do with this matter,’ intervened Mrs Jacobson.
‘With all due respect, ma’am, that is for us to decide,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘Look here, Mrs Jacobson and I are great friends. We meet once in a while. I’ve never been to this Talbots’ Lodging House, or whatever it is called, and I certainly know nothing of any murders. Now I would be obliged if your constable would let me go,’ said Harris firmly.
‘I would like to ask you some questions first, sir,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘Damn it, man! I would have you know that the Police Superintendent and I are good friends. I’ll have a word with him later and settle this affair.’
‘I would still like to ask you a few questions, sir,’ continued Ravenscroft anxious to maintain his position.
Harris stared at Ravenscroft for a few seconds, and then reaching out towards the detective’s arm said ‘Look, Ravenscroft, I might have been a bit hasty. Would be obliged if we could have a quiet word together, just man to man as it were. Would not want to upset the lady, as I am sure you appreciate.’
‘Very well, sir,’ agreed Ravenscroft opening the bedroom door.
Ravenscroft and Harris stepped out into the corridor.
Harris closed the door behind him. ‘Now see here, Ravenscroft, sorry for my abrupt behaviour in there. I can see you are a man of the world. Mrs Jacobson and I have been meeting here for the past year, usually once or twice a week. Neither of us would want this to get out. The lady is after all married and has a reputation to uphold, and I — well the least said about me the better. Let me just say that I have an important position to maintain in the county, and if this got out, tongues would wag. You know how it is. People are always putting two and two together, and drawing their own erroneous conclusions. If I give you my word that I know nothing about these deaths, I hope you would be gentlemanly enough to overlook this matter,’ said Harris taking out his wallet from his coat pocket.
‘Mr Harris, I trust that you will not open that wallet. It would be extremely uncomfortable for you if you did so,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘Your word against mine,’ replied Harris replacing the wallet inside his pocket.
‘All I require, sir, are some truthful answers to a few questions,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘Oh very well then, man,’ sighed Harris. ‘Let’s get on with it. I have not got all day.’
‘Thank you, sir. Overlooking the fact that “Harris” is not your proper name, I would ask you how long you have known Mrs Jacobson?’
‘For about six months, as I’ve just stated.’
‘You are aware that the lady is still married?’
‘Yes, yes, of course,’ replied Harris showing signs of annoyance.
‘Has Mrs Jacobson ever mentioned her husband to you?’
‘She may have done, once or twice.’
‘Were you and Mrs Jacobson planning to poison her husband, so that you could marry the lady?’
‘Good heavens no!’ laughed Harris. ‘I am a respectable married man. As I said, I have an important position to maintain in society. I am not inclined to surrender all that to run off with some trollop.’
Ravenscroft smiled. ‘You may like to know, sir, that we have caught Mrs Jacobson in possession of some arsenic powder.’
‘Good grief!’
‘She claims she uses it to improve her complexion.’
‘Well yes, I suppose some women do. Look Ravenscroft, I give you my word that Mrs Jacobson has never mentioned anything concerning arsenic to me, and that certainly neither she nor I have any intention of poisoning either her husband, or anyone else for that matter. To tell you the truth, I am getting rather tired of all this secrecy. In fact I was going to end it all today. The rose has kind of lost its bloom, if you know what I mean,’ said Harris winking his eye at Ravenscroft.
‘Very well, sir.’
‘Good man. I knew you would understand. I would be obliged if you would let me go now. I have rather an urgent meeting in Worcester to attend.’
‘Mrs Jacobson?’
‘I will let you make my excuses, if you will. Well Ravenscroft, happy to have been of assistance. Will see if I can put in a good word for you next time I see the Superintendent. Good day to you.’
Ravenscroft said nothing as he watched Harris walk quickly along the corridor and out of sight.
Returning to the room he found a distraught Mrs Jacobson seated on the bed, and Crabb staring out of the window.
‘Has Lord . . . er Hubert left?’ enquired the woman.
‘Yes,’ replied Ravenscroft.
‘I see. I doubt I will ever see him again.’
‘I would say, ma’am, that that is highly likely. I have usually found that men in his position, once they have been found out in their indiscretion are only too anxious to avoid any scandal.’
‘I suppose you will tell my husband?’ asked Mrs Jacobson looking into the detective’s eyes. ‘I would be grateful if you did not.’
‘I cannot promise that, Mrs Jacobson, but then I would be highly surprised if your husband was entirely unaware of your activities.’
‘I only agreed to succumb to Hubert’s attentions because I felt rather sorry for him. He is such a lonely, sensitive man.’
‘Come now, Mrs Jacobson, you insult my intellige
nce. You and I both know the real reason why you and your so called admirer meet twice a week in this bedroom,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘We have so few savings. My husband is unable to work. Lord . . . Hubert has been so kind to us.’
Ravenscroft smiled.
‘Why have you followed me?’ asked Mrs Jacobson rising from the bed.
‘You are still a suspect in our investigations, Mrs Jacobson, and you have been caught in possession of arsenic. We knew that you had been meeting someone regularly, and it seemed a strong possibility that you and your “admirer” might well have been plotting the death of your husband. Furthermore, it seems highly likely that the two of you may have poisoned both Mr Jones and Miss Martin because they learned of your assignation with this man.’
‘All that is nonsense, inspector, as you well know. I would never do anything to harm my husband. I owe him my life. Yes, I have been one of your “ladies of the night” when I lived in Whitechapel, and my life had almost come to an end when I met Ivan. My life had become so wretched. I had nothing, and one night I walked down to the river with the intention of ending it all. I was about to throw myself off the bridge when Ivan came up to me. He took care of me, taught me to value my own life and to escape from the mire into which I had sunk. I would do nothing to break that trust. I hope you understand that?’
‘I think it would be better if you left, Mrs Jacobson,’ said Ravenscroft unmoved by the woman’s story.
Mrs Jacobson threw one more glance at Ravenscroft before quickly walking out of the room.
‘Well, that’s a surprise and no mistake,’ said Crabb.
‘People will sometimes resort to desperate courses of action when faced with extreme difficulty.’
‘I was half expecting your Captain Quinton to be here.’
‘Yes. That would have been most convenient. Cherrington and Mrs Jacobson lovers, plotting to kill her husband, having previously been forced to kill Jones and Miss Martin because they had unearthed their little plot, but it was not to be.’
‘Who’s the gent?’
‘Well his name is not Harris. Mrs Jacobson let out his first name, Hubert, that is all, and also that he is a Lord. Do you know, Tom, he had the effrontery to offer me money to hush all this up.’
