The Dorich House Mystery (The Ralph Chalmers Mysteries Book 3)

by P. J. Thurbin

  “I need to put more time in on that, Rupert, but it’s going quite well.”

  Margaret brought in the tea and Granger continued to expound on how he was going to change things once he got his new post.

  “Oh yes, I forgot to tell you, Ralph. I spoke to one of your old Cambridge contacts the other day when I was at the annual Institute of Directors dinner, a Grant Richardson. It seems he is in the art business and evidently had some dealings with the VC at Dorich House. As he is a friend of the VC, I thought it would do no harm, and might give you a few more contacts if he gave a talk to some of our best students next week. I took the liberty of telling him that you would be hosting it and he seemed quite pleased.”

  Here we go, Ralph thought.

  “My plate is pretty full at the moment, Rupert, what with my obligations in connection with the Foundation and a myriad of things that I need to follow up with my contacts from France.”

  “Oh, you can do this standing on your head. I’m sure you aren’t so busy that you can’t help out. I’ve asked Grant to speak to them about how to be a success in business.”

  Ralph recognized the hand of fate at work again. He wondered how Rupert always managed to turn what should have been Ralph’s moment to his own advantage. Not to mention the mixed feelings he had about meeting up with Grant after practically telling Inspector Linham that he suspected him of being involved in Rabinsky’s murder.

  Making his excuses, he left Granger to his musings about the changes that he would make to the University once he became the Pro Vice Chancellor.

  _____________________

  Chapter 11

  It was a warm spring afternoon as Ralph pulled into the car park at Dorich House. The grounds were immaculate, and as he was early, he took time to walk through the gardens. He was surprised to see Grant seated on an old wooden bench reading some papers.

  “Hi Ralph. Great minds must work alike. Marvelous the way the gardens offer this oasis of calm so near to that busy traffic. It seems as though our paths cross a lot these days. Take the weight off your feet old pal,” he said moving along the bench to make room. As Ralph sat down Grant continued.

  “Terrible business about dear Boris. He was a good friend and I shall miss him. I’m booked to fly out to Moscow from Heathrow tonight as the funeral is tomorrow. John would have gone but he’s stuck in Cairo with a big art exhibition he’s running.”

  “It was a shock seeing as how we were only talking with him only a short while ago,” said Ralph.

  “Well those mafia types were either shooting at someone else and Boris got in the way or one of his deals with them went wrong. Old Boris, bless his heart, was a good man but a bit naïve in some ways. I warned him about having those thugs as a client, but he wouldn’t listen. Now look where it’s got him, poor sod. But back to today’s business.”

  “Are you set up for the session?” Asked Ralph.

  “Yes, no problem. I spoke with your Cynthia yesterday and she gave me the starters and runners. I’m due on once you’ve introduced me. I guess I should leave out the bit about the high life in Paris,” he laughed. “Or maybe that’s just the motivation they need.”

  “I’ll keep it short and then hand over to you, although I expect Cynthia may want to make a few remarks about the museum,” said Ralph.

  “Well, that just means less time I have to fill, so I am happy if she wants the floor to tout the museum,” said Grant with a laugh.

  “I expect the students will turn up to see if you can tell them how to become a millionaire without actually doing anything. It seems to be a fascination with everyone nowadays. They all want to by-pass doing any work or pursuing a talent or dream. That’s where it’s so different to when you and I were students, Grant.”

  “Yes, I am afraid the good old days seem less appealing with every year. What with the news filled with stories about the internet millionaires who all dropped out to make their fortune, not likely our group will queue up to climb the ladder the hard way,” replied Grant as he stretched and stifled a yawn.

  As they chatted on, Ralph quite forgot that he had only a few days earlier been talking to the police about Grant possibly being Ivan Rabinsky’s killer. He had that easy charm of inherited wealth that Ralph always envied.

  “Speaking of getting rich, have you given any thought to my offer to come and work with me and Elizabeth? I meant every word of it. I really could use a good business manager and I think you’d be just the man for the job After all, we do share the same background, Cambridge and all.”

  “I’m really flattered. But I do actually enjoy my work at Kingston.”

  “I’m sure you do, but no one gets rich in academia, Ralph, as no doubt you are well aware. Besides, you would be based in Paris, the most beautiful city in the world, and if that weren’t enticement enough, a friend of mine who heads up one of the power groups at the Sorbonne tells me that your Katie is likely to be offered a job there as a Professor in the Education department.”

  Ralph was taken aback to hear about Katie. If it was true then he wondered why she had not told him.

  “Come on Ralph, at least say you’ll think about it and after we have this little chat with the students we can go and have a drink to celebrate your new career. How about it?”

  “It’s a great offer, Grant, but I need a bit of time to think about things first. Let’s get this talk over first and then I’ll give you a lift to the airport. We can have that drink at Heathrow before your flight.”

  “Alright. I can see you won’t be rushed into anything. So lead on old fellow and let’s see if I can inspire these kids to chuck their books in the trash bin and go out to seek their fortunes in the big wicked world.” With that Grant sprang up and grasping Ralph’s hand dragged him to his feet.

  “The sooner we get this over the sooner I can introduce you to the high life. Champagne and smoked salmon at Heathrow, that’s the ticket,” Grant laughed as they walked towards the steps of Dorich House.

  Cynthia introduced herself and apologised for her arm being in plaster which she said happened when she was trying to save the museum’s treasures from an intruder. She appeared delighted, if slightly puzzled, at the applause and laughter from the students over her remark. Once she had finished her spiel, Ralph introduced Grant. The students were always impressed when their speaker had been at Oxford or Cambridge, and in Grant’s case they were doubly impressed when Ralph introduced him as a multi-millionaire. As Grant thanked the University for being so kind in inviting him to address such a charming audience, Ralph slipped out of a side door. He wanted to phone Katie and find out if there was any truth to what Grant had told him about her being offered a job at the Sorbonne. Ralph knew that if it was true he should just be pleased that Katie seemed to be landing on her feet. He knew he was just being churlish to feel annoyed that she hadn’t mentioned anything about it to him. They were friends, but he certainly had no right to expect her to pass everything by him before making up her own mind about what to do with her life. Still, if she had been offered a job in Paris, then he would be tempted to take Grant up on his offer on a trial basis provided the University would grant him a leave of absence.

  On the other hand, if Granger were appointed to the post of Pro Vice Chancellor then it was possible that Granger would want him to become Dean so that he could have someone on board he could trust to support his plans for change.

  He couldn’t contact Katie either on her home line or her mobile. No doubt she had turned her telephone off if she was out and about. She tended to think it was for calling out rather than allowing it to intrude on whatever she was doing.

  As Ralph slipped back in to the conference hall Grant was in full flow, and he could see that the students were captivated. He envied Grant’s relaxed almost nonchalant style.

  “Life is just like a game of chess. When I was a student at Cambridge, about your age but not as smart, I hated studying. I just wanted to outplay the competition.”

  His audience res
ponded with applause and supportive laughter. Ralph could see that Grant was living up to his reputation as a charmer as he continued.

  “I had already decided that running around a track or getting involved in rugby or soccer or some other beastly contact sport was not for me.”

  More laughter from students who thought getting up in the morning and having to come to classes was enough exercise for the day.

  “So I picked the only activity that would get me my ‘blue’ for the University while sitting down. No not rowing; that means getting wet and sweaty.”

  More laughter.

  “So I took up chess, and somehow I managed to do quite well. The thing about chess is that it’s a bit like business. It goes without saying that you need a strategy, but in order to win you need to be able to do three things.” You could have heard a pin drop his audience was so mesmerized.

  “Firstly, you need to be able to make moves that will confuse your opponents; secondly you must be able to react to unexpected moves made by the competition; and lastly, you must be ruthless. That, in a nutshell, is the secret to winning. And it holds true whether you are playing chess or playing for real in the business world.”

  Ralph could see some of the students were taking notes. Grant continued.

  “I still play regularly in top chess tournaments and only a few weeks ago managed to beat some of the world’s top players at a tournament at The Cambridge Club in London.”

  Ralph froze. His mind flashed back to his visit to Ivan Rabinsky’s apartment in Belgravia. It was as though someone was running a movie of the scene before his eyes. There on Rabinsky’s desk he could see the poster advertising a chess tournament at the Cambridge Club in London. The tournament was scheduled for the evening of the day Rabinsky was murdered. He remembered a remark that the Inspector had made about the Russians all being good chess players. “But this was one tournament that Mr. Rabinsky would not attend,” he had said. As Grant continued, Ralph slipped out of the room again, this time to make a call to The Cambridge Club. He wanted to find out if Grant had played in the tournament. His call to the Club was answered immediately by the duty Porter, McBride.

  “Yes Professor Chalmers; we haven’t seen you here for a while, sir. What can I help you with?”

  “I’m enquiring after a friend, Grant Richardson. I wondered if he had been into the Club recently?”

  “Yes sir, he was here at the recent chess tournament on the 13th. He won his matches and the International Trophy. Very pleased he was too. But as I recall, he had to rush off to catch the late train to Cambridge. There was a bit of a rumpus with a cabbie the next day about Mr. Richardson. I was on duty and the chap got quite irate. It seems that evidently Mr. Richardson must have been in a hurry when he paid off the cabbie who dropped him here for the tournament and he left his laptop in the back of the cab. The chap must have been going off duty and it wasn’t until the next day that he remembered Mr. Richardson getting in with it when he picked him up from Belgravia.”

  Ralph was stunned for a moment. Was it possible or simply a coincidence that Grant was in Belgravia on the afternoon Rabinsky was murdered?

  “Do you remember where in Belgravia the cabbie collected him?”

  “Oh yes, that’s what caused the trouble. You see when the cabbie came here I gave him Mr. Richardson’s address in Cambridge and told him to send it on. I suppose I wasn’t thinking too clearly. Well the chap told me in no uncertain terms that he was not a postal service. He was quite rude and I made a note of his cab number and name in case we had any further problems with him. Well I asked him to tell me whereabouts in Belgravia he had picked Mr. Richardson up. I have it here.” There was a pause as the Porter searched through his papers. “Here it is. Mr. Richardson flagged him down at 6pm on the 13th about a half block from Radlett Mansions, Belgravia. By the way, I sent the laptop on to Mr. Richardson with a note explaining what had happened. He sent me a cheque to cover the post and something for my trouble. He’s a real gentleman.”

  Ralph thanked McBride and rang off. So did this mean that his hunch had been right and Grant Richardson really was a murderer? And if the police searched his home in Cambridge would they find Rabinsky’s laptop? The cab driver could easily be traced, and the post mortem records would show the time of Rabinsky’s death which could then be checked against when Grant was picked up by the taxi only a few steps away from Rabinsky’s apartment. Just then Grant walked out of the conference hall and interrupted his analysis.

  “Ralph, there you are. I can’t say I blame you for ‘exiting left’. You must have heard quite a few versions of that fantasy I was feeding the students. No doubt you have told them something similar.”

  “Well, I suppose one gets used to it when it’s done year after year,” Ralph replied while he tried to convince himself that there was probably an innocent explanation for Grant’s activities on the 13th. After all, Rabinsky was valuing Grant’s paintings, so it was entirely possible that his visit to Belgravia was merely for the purpose of checking that the valuation had gone as he had anticipated.

  “You must be made of stern stuff to handle the questions those students throw at you day after day. I’m exhausted. If it’s okay by you I’ll just say farewell to Cynthia, then we can head off to the airport. I’m as thirsty as a camel after all that. And I didn’t even charge a fee.” He laughed as he clapped Ralph on the back.

  Cynthia was all over Grant and thanked him for his work on behalf of the museum and hoped that he might have some more paintings that he could loan to them in the future.

  Grant engaged her in polite small talk as he maneuvered his way towards the foyer.

  “I hope your arm is soon better Miss Harper,” he called over his shoulder as he walked towards Ralph’s car.

  “My gosh what a woman. I thought we were never going to get away.”

  “Yes. She can go on a bit,” Ralph replied as he fished in his right trouser pocket for his key ring.

  “The minute I spotted the jag I thought, that looks like the sort of car Ralph will be driving,” Grant smiled as Ralph got in his side and reached over to unlock the passenger door.

  “I’m afraid this car is one of my weaknesses,” Ralph replied, trying to keep the boastfulness out of his voice.

  “We all have our weaknesses. But it does fit the image, if I may say so old sport. But you might decide you need an upgrade if you come on board with Elizabeth and myself.” Grant fastened his seatbelt and settled into the plush leather seat as Ralph maneuvered out of the staff car-park and turned up the drive that led to the University exit onto the main road. It was rush hour, and as usual they had to wait for several minutes before there was a break in the traffic so that Ralph could turn right up Kingston Hill. The best way to get to Heathrow from there was through Kingston and Twickenham.

  “You seem a bit pensive, Ralph. I hope I’m not putting you out too much. Dean Granger offered to lay a car on for me, but I thought this would give us a chance to have a bit of a chat.”

  Ralph was still working out what to do. He wished that there had been time to phone Inspector Linham and tell him about his call to The Cambridge Club, but it had all happened so quickly. He toyed with the notion of driving straight to the police station at Kingston, but decided that he was probably just over-reacting. And if he wasn’t, the last thing he wanted was to cause Grant to become suspicious and make a run for it. Any way you looked at it, it was bizarre to be driving a suspected murderer to the airport for champagne and smoked salmon. He decided that he needed to find some way to call Linham once they got to Heathrow. And most of all he needed time to think.

  “You’re right Grant, I am a bit tired. I find that one way of dealing with this awful traffic is to listen to a bit of music. How about some Mozart?”

  “Fine by me. If it helps you to unwind, I’m all for it. It’ll give me time to think of what I’m going to say to the family at the funeral tomorrow. Mozart’s Requiem might be a bit heavy, but anything else would hit the spot
.” Grant lay back in his seat as Ralph selected the track. The music made the scene even more surreal. Ralph wondered what would happen if and when Grant was arrested.

  In just under the hour they had parked and where seated at the bar ordering their drinks and food.

  “I just need to make a quick call to Katie if you’ll excuse me for a second,” said Ralph, trying to appear nonchalant.

  “Don’t worry. And give her my regards. While you’re doing that I’ll call Liz and tell her that I’m on my way. She’s gone ahead and is waiting for me in Moscow. I’ll keep your champers cold, so don’t worry. He laughed as he poured a glass from the iced bucket the waitress had placed in front of them.

  Ralph walked quickly out of sight of Grant whom he could see through the window speaking on his cell phone. In a few minutes he briefed Inspector Linham on what he now knew about Grant being at Rabinsky’s apartment and told him that they were at Heathrow and Grant was scheduled to fly to Moscow in less than two hours.

  “Just keep him talking and try to act normal,” Linham advised and told him that he was on his way and should be there inside 30 minutes. “And for god’s sake don’t try anything heroic. Remember, the police are paid to do that sort of thing so leave it to the professionals.”

  Ralph rejoined Grant at the bar.

  “You still seem a bit pre-occupied, Ralph. I hope I haven’t been pushing too hard to get you to come to work with us.”

  “Not at all. I guess I just have a lot on my plate at the moment.” Ralph hoped that Grant wouldn’t grill him further. In any event, he felt more relaxed now that he knew that Linham was on his way. He was sure to have alerted the airline and Grant would be stopped by the airport police before he could board the plane.

  Suddenly Ralph felt a great urge to put a stop to all the playacting. He thought of Rabinsky’s sister sitting in her tenement apartment knowing that she would never hear or see her brother again; and here was his murderer drinking champagne and laughing. Ralph turned to face Grant and told him about the cab-driver and how Anna had identified him as the person who had paid for the attempted break-in’s at Dorich House. He omitted to tell Grant that the police were on their way to arrest him.