A True and Faithful Brother

by Linda Stratmann

  There was a stunned silence as the gentlemen looked at each other and then at Mr Brassington. Several looked as though they were about to swallow their own beards. One or two smiled, and not a few began to laugh.

  ‘Oh that is quite impossible,’ advised Mr Brassington. ‘Our rituals are only open to men.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Mr Fiske, ‘and it is with some regret that I do so, since I believe that it is essential to discover the truth behind the cruel death of a brother Mason. Is there not some common ground?’

  ‘I would have thought,’ said a diminutive gentleman with a serious expression, who had been introduced as Mr Chappell, Director of Ceremonies, ‘that we would have been better advised to employ an investigator who is also a Freemason. Or at the very least a man, who would be a suitable candidate for membership.’

  ‘I am afraid I do not know of a private detective who is a Freemason,’ Mr Fiske pointed out. ‘And how long might it take to discover one, I can’t imagine. Even if I found a suitable candidate to attend such a ceremony he would have to be initiated, passed and raised. You know how long that takes. I should also point out that many private detectives are former police officers who have left the force under a cloud. Do you wish to employ such a person? He would certainly not be acceptable to the Lodge. Miss Doughty is not only an excellent detective, but she is known for her discretion. You might object to Miss Doughty because she is a female, but on no other grounds.’

  ‘Might I suggest something,’ said Frances. All eyes turned to her. ‘Is it possible to proceed through the ceremony just providing a sufficient description of what took place but without actually performing any part which is closed to me?’

  The brethren turned to their Master for guidance. Mr Brassington gave the question some thought. ‘I think it would be best if Miss Doughty retires to the office for a few minutes while we discuss her suggestion.’

  Frances thanked him, and the gentlemen sat down for a conference, their thoughts assisted by glasses of the landlord’s finest beer. Ten minutes later, Mr Fiske called her back to the lounge bar.

  ‘It is our decision,’ said Mr Brassington, ‘that it is possible with due care, to go through the evening’s ceremonies without revealing any secrets that a lady, or indeed anyone not of our fraternity, ought not to have.’

  ‘So long as the ceremony proceeds in the same manner as the original and everyone is placed where they were before, I am content,’ said Frances.

  The gentleman looked relieved if a little apprehensive.

  ‘Then let us begin. Assume that I am now Lancelot Dobree, I will be arriving at the tavern at about – when?’

  ‘Some time after four o’clock, with me,’ said Mr Brassington. ‘Half past, perhaps.’

  ‘Mr Chappell, when did you arrive and check that the room was in order?’

  ‘It was about quarter past four.’

  ‘Were Mr Brassington and Mr Dobree here when you arrived?’

  ‘No, but they came not long afterwards.’

  ‘Could I ask you to check the Lodge room as you did on that occasion?’

  Chappell, after glancing at Brassington who nodded, departed about his duties.

  ‘I assume that Mr Chappell will obtain the key from the office and unlock the Lodge room by its front door?’

  ‘Yes, he will,’ said Brassington. ‘It won’t take more than two or three minutes. He keeps the key in his pocket until the ceremony is over. In the meantime, the other gentlemen remain here and engage in conversation.’

  ‘Then let us all be seated,’ said Frances.

  Everyone sat, although there was a distinct lack of conversation and none of the gentlemen were at their ease.

  Mr Chappell returned. ‘Do you now have the key to the front door of the Lodge room in your pocket?’ Frances asked him.

  ‘I do, and I confirm that the room is in order and properly secured.’

  ‘Do you have the key to the back door?’

  ‘No, that is not required, but I did try the door as I always do, and I am certain it is locked.’ He looked about him, and as everyone else was sitting he did so too.

  Frances turned to Mr Brassington. ‘And once Mr Chappell took his place you were all here all the time until it was time for the meeting to begin?’

  Brassington gave this some thought. ‘Well, not exactly. Some of the gentlemen would have gone to fetch a drink from the barman, and others would have attended to their personal comfort.’

  ‘So you were not all seated here all of the time?’

  ‘No, there would have been the usual to-ing and fro-ing.’

  ‘Did Mr Dobree go to the bar?’

  ‘He did not. He was my guest, and I purchased a drink for him.’

  ‘Did he attend to his comfort?’

  Brassington frowned. ‘I expect so. It’s not something one takes special note of.’

  ‘Where did Mr Dobree sit when he was in the lounge bar?’

  ‘I really can’t be sure.’

  ‘Perhaps he sat by you?’

  ‘Yes, I think he did.’

  ‘Could you go to the bar and fetch your guest a drink?’

  ‘Oh! Yes of course!’ Brassington sprang to his feet. ‘Mineral water?’

  ‘Yes please.’

  Brassington went up to the bar and Frances quickly took the opportunity to leave the lounge and pass into the public bar. Ignoring the startled glances of the customers at the sight of a lone young female, she made her stride more purposeful and looked neither to right nor left, but entered the corridor. There were some yells after her, ‘Oi! Miss!’ as if she was about to commit the unthinkable act of wandering into the gentleman’s convenience, or getting lost in the storerooms or cellar. She wondered if Wellington would pursue her, but the huge dog seemed to understand that he was a guardian of the night only, and did no more than utter a warning growl. Frances knew that when she retraced her steps she would be greeted with the ribald amusement of the drinkers, as it would be assumed that she had made an embarrassing mistake, and so it proved, but she kept her steps firm and her face impassive. When she returned to the lounge bar the bartender was busy and she was back in her seat before Brassington had delivered her drink. Silence reigned until glasses were emptied, and Frances took the opportunity of watching to check if any of the men present were left-handed. There was only one, who was far too young to be Cullum. Frances stood up. ‘Shall we assume now that it is time for the ceremony to begin?’

  Mr Brassington rose. ‘Gentlemen, and er – lady – let us make ready.’

  The brethren obediently left their chairs and mounted the stairs to the anteroom. Here coats and hats were removed and placed on the rails provided. Mr Neilson brought a chair to the door of the Lodge room. He explained to Frances that at a Lodge of Instruction the brethren did not wear regalia, and the door was not tyled, but on this occasion as she wished to know where members had been positioned during the last meeting attended by Dobree, he would act as Tyler.

  ‘Now,’ Brassington told Frances, ‘all the members other than the officers enter the Lodge room and are seated. A guest usually goes in with the man who invited him, but in this case Brother Dobree was my guest, and so he went in with the other brethren. So you can go through now, and will be shown where Dobree was sitting.’

  ‘So where he sat was his own choice?’

  ‘It was, yes.’

  The gentlemen, with cautious looks at Frances, entered the room, and she went with them. She was conducted to a seat on the row to the right of the Master’s chair; the last seat on the end of the row, on the side of the room nearest to the back door. If she had wanted to leave by the back door, it was the shortest possible route, and she would not have had to walk in front of anyone else.

  The officers then entered and processed around the room, before going to their stations. Mr Brassington took the Master’s chair and the two Wardens occupied their positions. Mr Fiske and another gentleman who was the treasurer sat at the secretary’s table near the
front entrance. The Inner Guard, Mr Manley, having established that all except Mr Neilson were within, bolted the door and sat beside it.

  ‘For the information of Miss Doughty,’ began Mr Brassington, ‘the first part of the proceedings was to open the Lodge. At this point all members were in the room. On the night of the meeting when Mr Dobree was present, I duly opened the Lodge, and then the acting secretary read the minutes of the previous meeting for approval.’

  ‘Please let me know the subject of those minutes,’ asked Frances, hoping to gain a valuable clue as to any information that might have provoked Lancelot Dobree’s unusual behaviour.

  ‘Of course. The minutes recorded the business of the last meeting and there was a report of the indisposition of a brother Mason, and a fund being set up to provide new books for one of the schools we support. Finally there were apologies from those not present. During the reading I clearly observed Brother Dobree in the Lodge room, and I feel sure that he was where Miss Doughty is now.

  We then proceeded with the ceremony. After this the Almoner reported that our indisposed brother was on the road to recovery, but would not be able to resume his duties as Lodge secretary and Brother Fiske had kindly agreed to act as secretary. The treasurer then reported on the amounts raised by the book fund, and the acting secretary provided the proposed date on which the brethren will entertain their ladies to a dinner. I then closed the Lodge.’

  Frances thought that Mr Miggs would have been very disappointed to discover that the business of the Lodge was so mundane, although he would probably have concluded that any plans the Literati might have had to overthrow the government and kidnap the Queen would not have been formally minuted.

  ‘So Mr Dobree was in the room before the ceremony began?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Please describe the ceremony.’

  ‘I first requested that all First Degree members should retire, and opened the Lodge in the Second Degree. Brother Dobree naturally remained.’

  Several of the gentlemen rose and respectfully made for the door, which Mr Manley unbolted to permit them to leave. ‘Where will these gentlemen go?’ asked Frances.

  ‘They will retire to the lounge bar. On that night they would have first divested themselves of their regalia. The next business of the evening was to test the candidate, Brother Alsopp, to ensure that he was ready for the ceremony of raising.’ Brassington indicated the gentleman in question, a cheerful-looking individual with a sandy moustache, and eyes like a puppy. ‘Before this took place the other members in the Second Degree were asked to leave.’

  At this point several more members rose and left. ‘As you might anticipate, they will join their brethren in the lounge bar. There were questions and answers which, of course, I cannot go into now, and then Brother Alsopp retired from the room.’

  Mr Alsopp was conducted to the door guarded by Mr Manley. The door was opened and he left the Lodge. Once again the door was bolted.

  ‘Where was Mr Alsopp while he waited?’ Frances asked.

  ‘He was outside being prepared by Mr Neilson.’

  Frances looked around and counted twelve gentlemen present, including the Master and his officers. Those of the brethren not at an officer’s station were seated in chairs around the perimeter.

  ‘The next step,’ explained Brassington, ‘is to open the Lodge in the Third Degree and prepare it for the ceremony.’

  ‘Mr Brassington, can you advise how long this procedure would have taken from first entering the Lodge to the start of the ceremony?’

  ‘About thirty minutes.’

  ‘And the lights were lit all the time, and Mr Dobree was present?’

  ‘Yes. He could not have left the room by either exit without our noticing. All brethren were seated in their appropriate places. The Tyler, having prepared the candidate, knocked on the door to let us know that he was ready. And this, Miss Doughty, is when the lights were extinguished.’

  The Lodge officers moved about the room turning down all the lamps, and there remained only the soft flicker of a candle beside the Master’s chair. Frances was aware of some movement as the brethren took their positions.

  ‘The Inner Guard was directed to see who sought admission and he opened the door.’ Mr Manley duly opened the door. As he did so, a shaft of light entered from the corridor.

  ‘Once the Inner Guard was satisfied that the candidate was properly prepared he was admitted and the ceremony proceeded,’ Brassington continued.

  The candidate entered – he was clearly silhouetted against the light. The door was closed and once again the room was dark. Although Frances was aware that it would have been possible to see a fair amount of activity even by candlelight, it was obvious to her that all eyes would at that time have been on Mr Allsopp.

  ‘At this point,’ said Mr Brassington, ‘we all rose to say a prayer, and the ceremony, of which I cannot divulge the details, proceeded.’

  Every man in the Lodge room who was not already standing rose to his feet, and Frances did so, too. She was aware only of shadowy figures moving about the room with slow deliberation.

  It was now very clear to Frances that any attempt to leave surreptitiously by the front door of the Lodge would be bound to fail. Even if Dobree had managed to walk to the door unnoticed by all those whose paths he would have crossed, even if the Inner Guard had colluded with his scheme, and not challenged him but unbolted the door, the light that flowed into the room on the opening of the entrance would have alerted the brethren that something unexpected was taking place. When the door had been opened to allow the First and Second Degree men to leave, and later the candidate, the Lodge room had been lit and no one had seen Dobree trying to make a surreptitious exit. Surely Mr Neilson, on guard with his sword, would have noticed if the guest had slipped away? That only left the back door, yet both it and the ground-floor exit had been locked.

  Cautiously, Frances left her seat and crept over to the back door. She was able to do so silently, without passing in front of anyone else, and had already availed herself of the key during her earlier brief walk down the corridor. She now tried her best to open the door, but so dim was the light that she was unable to accurately place the key in the lock, with the result that a metallic scraping noise was apparent before the key even went in.

  ‘I believe our guest is attempting to leave the Lodge,’ observed Mr Brassington, and she could tell from his voice that he was smiling.

  ‘I had to see if it was possible,’ said Frances, returning to her seat. Of course, she reflected, she only had Mr Chappell’s word that the back door was locked at all.

  Everyone was then asked to stand again. ‘In this part of the ceremony,’ said Mr Brassington, ‘the candidate takes his sacred oath, a pledge of brotherhood, honour and respect. The next part is rather lengthy and I do not propose to go into it in detail, in view of our lady guest.

  ‘I next requested Worshipful Brother Fiske to perform the address. For the benefit of Miss Doughty I should mention that this is not performed in all Lodges, but Brother Fiske is very proficient in it and Brother Dobree was especially interested in seeing it since it is not a feature of the ritual in Mulberry Lodge. In fact,’ Brassington paused, ‘I recall something now. Shortly before the address commenced I glanced across at where Dobree had been sitting and I noticed that he had gone from his seat. I assumed he had moved to obtain a better view.’

  ‘Then I had better move,’ said Frances, rising. ‘Where did he go?’

  ‘I really don’t know. All I could see was that the chair where he had been sitting was empty.’

  Frances looked about the shadowy room. Her eyes were getting used to the darkness and she could easily see the forms of the seated men. ‘Did anyone see him move? Does anyone recall Mr Dobree coming to sit by him?’

  There was some discussion, but no gentleman in the Lodge recalled Lancelot Dobree either walking in front of him or moving to another place.

  ‘Then it would appear,’ said Frances, �
��that Mr Dobree left the Lodge before Mr Fiske spoke.’

  ‘I really don’t know what to make of that,’ said Mr Brassington, mystified.

  ‘Please go on.’

  Mr Fiske rose, went to stand beside Mr Alsopp, and took a small hand bell from his pocket. ‘At this juncture I performed the address. Of course, with Miss Doughty in attendance I cannot speak the words, but I will carry out the procedure.’

  There was an interval of about five minutes during which Mr Fiske walked about Mr Alsopp, ringing the hand bell at intervals. Mr Fiske then returned to his seat.

  ‘There are a few more parts of the ceremony in which I entrusted Mr Alsopp with the secrets of his degree, after which he briefly retired from the Lodge room,’ said Brassington. ‘The lights were then re-lit.’

  As the Lodge room was once again bathed in light, Frances looked about her. ‘Mr Brassington, am I correct that Mr Dobree was never at any point called upon to take part in the ceremony?’

  ‘That is correct. He was here as a guest, and simply observed.’

  ‘Did you notice him being here when the lights were re-lit?’

  ‘No, but there was a part of the ceremony still remaining in which I was principally involved, and I simply didn’t look. I naturally assumed that he was here. After that part of the proceedings the junior members of the Lodge were re-admitted, the rest of the business was conducted and then I closed the Lodge.’

  ‘Could he have slipped out when the junior members returned?’

  ‘I very much doubt it. He would have had to walk past Mr Manley and Mr Neilson. It was when the officers of the Lodge prepared to file out that I looked around for Dobree and saw that he wasn’t there. We searched high and low, but he was nowhere to be found.’

  ‘At the time when you realised Mr Dobree was missing, which of the Lodge members had actually left the Lodge room?’

  ‘None, and we are all sure that he was present at the start.’

  Frances realised she had a great deal to think about.

  ‘And now,’ said Mr Brassington, ‘we may draw the formal part of the evening to a close and retire to the lounge bar. Miss Doughty, have you seen all that you require to see?’