The Droitwich Deceivers (13 page)

BOOK: The Droitwich Deceivers
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‘Quickly Tom, while they are diverted, go below, and bring up the girl,’ said Ravenscroft.

‘What you gone and done that for?’ moaned the bargeman rounding on Ravenscroft.

‘Lost me footing, Bill,’ spluttered the woman collapsing onto the deck. ‘That young copper, he pushed me! ’Ere where’s he gone?’

‘My constable has gone below to bring up the girl. I am arresting you both for the kidnapping of Miss Mildred Chilton—’ began Ravenscroft in a serious voice.

‘It’s not her, sir,’ said Crabb interrupting his superior’s words as he emerged on the deck followed by a young girl.

‘What?’ asked a startled Ravenscroft.

‘It’s not Mildred Chilton sir,’ muttered Crabb.

‘Then who – who is this girl?’ asked Ravenscroft looking across at the young child.

‘That’s Alice, me granddaughter,’ protested the woman spitting out a mouthful of water.

Ravenscroft stared at Crabb.

‘What the devil do you mean by boarding my boat like this? I’ll have the law on you!’ exclaimed the man.

‘We are the law,’ replied Ravenscroft. ‘Can you prove that this girl is your granddaughter?’

‘Of course I can,’ said the woman. ‘Alice, tell them who you are, girl.’

‘Alice Gazey sir,’ said the girl in a quiet voice.

‘There, what did I tell you?’ said the man drawing himself up to his full height. ‘Now what do you mean, sir, by attacking our boat like this and pushing my poor wife into the water?’

‘Your wife slipped and fell into the canal; she was not pushed. And who are you sir?’ inquired Ravenscroft trying not to look too embarrassed by the events of the previous few minutes.

‘Henry Thomas Gazey, bargeman of these waters. My wife and I transport coal along the canals. A honest trade. We are on the way to Birmingham.’

‘And why is this girl with you?’

‘Her parents have gone away for a few days, so she is spending some time with us. There’s nothing wrong with that is there?’

‘Well Mr Gazey, my officers and I are searching for a young girl who has been cruelly abducted from her family in Droitwich. We received a telegram from the lock keeper here at Tardebigge, stating that he had seen a young girl on your boat matching the description of the missing girl. We naturally assumed that this missing girl was on your barge. I see now that we were incorrect in that assumption, and I would like to apologize for any inconvenience we may have caused you,’ said Ravenscroft adopting a consolatory tone of voice.

‘That’s all very well. All very well indeed. Its easy for you to say that. Just look at my best pinafore. Ruined it is!’ grumbled the woman rising to her feet and staring in Ravenscroft’s direction.

‘Of course. Perhaps this will recompense you for your inconvenience, and for the pinafore,’ said Ravenscroft reaching into his waistcoat pocket and removing a coin which he passed over to the woman.

‘That will do, I suppose,’ replied the woman grudgingly accepting the coin.

‘I wish you all good day. Mr Gazey,’ said Ravenscroft jumping back onto day land, closely followed by Crabb and the policeman.

‘And look next time before you come charging onto my barge!’ shouted the man.

‘Quickly, the sooner we are out of here, the better,’ said a
dejected Ravenscroft as the three men walked swifly down the towpath to their waiting horse and trap.

 

‘Confound that man, sending us that silly telegram,’ said Ravenscroft with annoyance, sitting on a chair with his feet resting on the edge of the table, at the police station in Droitwich, later that afternoon.

‘Never mind sir. It was worth a try. We had to follow it up,’ replied Crabb trying to bring some light to his superior’s darkened mood.

‘I was sure that it was them. Everything seemed to fit: the time of their flight from Worcester; the young girl on the barge. Will we ever find Mildred Chilton and those awful Huddlestones or Drews? Confound it all, Tom!’

‘We still don’t know whether it was them that took young Miss Chilton.’

‘You could be right,’ answered Ravenscroft. ‘Lucy certainly never saw the girl at that house in Worcester, but that does not mean that she wasn’t there. She could have been upstairs, bound and gagged for all we know. What I don’t understand is if they did take the girl, why did they feel the need to come back to Dodderhill to kill Old John? If he had seen them take the girl, he would not have known who they were, so there would have been no need to return and kill him. Some of this just does not add up.’

‘What shall we do next, sir?’ asked Crabb.

‘If only I knew. If Mildred Chilton and her captors did not leave the town by either the canal or by road, and she is nowhere to be found in the immediate locality then …’ began Ravenscroft. ‘Tom, did anyone go to the railway station on that first day after Miss Chilton disappeared?’

‘I think so sir. One of the men went, but I’m not sure.’

‘What if that handkerchief was dropped into the canal to
make us believe that Mildred and her abductor had left the town that way? What if they really left by train? How stupid we have been. Quickly Tom, the railway station!’

 

Ravenscroft and Crabb dismounted from the trap and made their way onto the station platform.

‘The place looks deserted. There are clearly no trains expected in the near future,’ said Ravenscroft.

‘We could try the ticket-office,’ suggested Crabb.

Ravenscroft walked across to the office. Finding the partition closed, the detective rapped on the glass.

Receiving no reply, Ravenscroft repeated his action. ‘Where is the wretched man?’ he said in an frustrated tone, all too aware that these enquiries, like all the others, might prove fruitless.

‘’Tis no good doing that sir. Won’t do you no good at all.’

Ravenscroft turned round to find that the voice belonged to a tall, rotund, red cheeked man, who sported an untidy beard, and was dressed in a railway man’s uniform.

‘Next train to Birmingham is another hour yet.’

‘So why is the ticket-office not open then?’ enquired Ravenscroft.

‘Folk don’t usually arrive till ten minutes before train leaves. Ticket clerk is on his tea break,’ replied the man stroking his beard. ‘You’ll have to come back then.’

‘We are here on urgent business. Look my man, we are the law,’ said Ravenscroft.

‘Can see that. Your assistant has got on his uniform, so that means you’ll be his superior officer then?’

‘I am.’

‘It’s no matter. If you wants to go to Birmingham, you’ll have to come back in fifty minutes, although I can’t think why anyone would want to go there, smelly old place, all smoke and hot air—’

‘We have no intention of travelling to Birmingham, or anywhere else for that matter,’ interrupted Ravenscroft becoming annoyed by the station master’s response.

‘There’s no need to get shirty with me, my good sir. No need for that, when a bit of common civility would not go amiss. If you don’t want to go anywhere, then you shouldn’t be here then should you? It is not my fault is it, if you don’t know what you wants.’

‘We want some information,’ emphasized Ravenscroft, seeking to control his temper.

‘Timetables are on the wall over there,’ muttered the man turning away.

‘Information about the missing girl.’

‘What missing girl? I haven’t heard nothing about no missing girl?’

‘The girl that went missing last Tuesday afternoon,’ said Crabb. ‘The whole town knows about it.’

‘Well I don’t,’ retorted the man.

‘For goodness sake, man, where have you been the past four days?’ asked Ravenscroft.

‘Been down to Ross visiting me aunt. She is not well. Glad of the company. Only got back half an hour ago.’

‘We are investigating the disappearance of Sir Charles Chilton’s daughter. You have heard of Sir Charles?’ asked Ravenscroft.

‘Course I as. Lives at posh place on hill. Owns half the salt mines in Droitwich. Tetchy gent: the sort that’s never satisfied with the answer you give them. I don’t know why folks has to be so unpleasant,’ replied the railway man shaking his head.

‘Were you here on duty on Tuesday afternoon?’

‘I was.’

‘That was the afternoon Miss Mildred Chilton disappeared. She was abducted against her will. We have reason to
believe that she, and the person, or persons, who took her, may have left the town by train. Can you remember seing the girl? She is about eight or nine years of age, and would have been well dressed?’ asked Ravenscroft hopefully.

‘Young girl you say?’ replied the man fingering his beard again. ‘Can’t say I … ah yes, young girl with that funny gent, about four o’clock in the afternoon.’

‘Yes, go on,’ encouraged Ravenscroft.

‘Well there is nothing else to tell really. They sat on the bench over there. Quiet they were. Kept themselves to themselves.’

‘A gentleman you say? Can you describe this gentleman for us?’

‘Tall, thin, about forty I would say, wearing a shabby old suit and overcoat.’

‘Had you ever seen this man before?’ asked Crabb, making a note in his pocket book.

‘No. Stranger to me he were.’

‘And the girl, what was she doing?’ asked Ravenscroft anxious to know more now that this new line of enquiry appeared to be bearing fruit.

‘What do you mean – “doing”?’ enquired the railway man.

‘Well do you think the girl was being restrained, or held against her will in any way?’ asked Ravenscroft.

‘No. She just sat over there at the man’s side. They were talking together. I did notice one unusual thing though. Man’s eyes were everywhere.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well, his eyes were everywhere, looking one way and then the other, then at the girl, then looking at the rest of the folk on the platform. Those eyes, they had a funny look about them, dark, bit wild like, as though he were frightened of something. That’s all I can tell you.’

‘I see. That is most interesting,’ replied Ravenscroft. ‘I don’t suppose you happen to remember where they were going to, this man and the girl?’

‘Ticket clerk would know, but he’s on his break. You’ll have to wait until later. Afraid I cannot help you there sir.’

‘Look, this girl may be in the gravest danger. We need to know where she was taken. I would be obliged if you would disturb your colleague as soon as possible and ask him to open this hatch,’ urged Ravenscroft.

‘Wait here, I’ll see what I can do,’ said the railway man walking a little way down the platform and entering the back of the ticket-office.

‘We may be getting somewhere at last,’ said Ravenscroft.

‘Wonder who this man was?’ asked Crabb.

Presently the glass partition of the ticket office opened.

‘Ah, you must be the ticket clerk?’ asked Ravenscroft.

‘That’s me,’ replied the railway man.

‘But, but, we spoke with you only a minute ago. We were under the impression that you were the station master,’ said Ravenscroft somewhat taken back at seeing the same man again.

‘Ah well, you thought wrong. I be the ticket clerk as well as the station master, but only on Tuesday and Friday afternoons. When I am the station master I cannot be the booking clerk, and when I’m the booking clerk I cannot be the station master. Can’t do two jobs at once. It’s against regulations.’

‘But – we thought you were – oh, no matter. I would be obliged if you would come to the point.’

‘Birmingham,’ announced the railway man.

‘Birmingham,’ repeated Ravenscroft.

‘That’s what the gent said, one and a half single-third class tickets to Birmingham.’

‘I see. You are sure they were single tickets?’

‘You doubting my memory?’

‘No of course not. It is just that we need to be sure where this man and the girl were going to. Well thank you for your time,’ said Ravenscroft turning away.

‘Paid for with a guinea.’

‘I have no doubt. I wish you good day,’ said Ravenscroft continuing to leave the station entrance.

‘Wanted change he did.’

‘Of course. Good day to you.’

‘You ain’t asked me about his hand,’ called out the clerk.

‘Hand? What hand?’ asked Ravenscroft returning quickly to the hatch.

‘Only three fingers and a thumb on his left hand. Saw it when he took his glove off to pay for his fare. Finger next to his small finger, gone, not there.’

‘How very interesting. Three fingers you say? Thank you. There is nothing else you can tell us?’

‘Nothing else,’ said the railway man slamming the hatch closed with a bang.

‘So, Tom, this is how Mildred and her abductor left the town that afternoon,’ said Ravenscroft as he and Crabb made their way back to the horse and trap.

‘At least we now have a description of him,’ added Crabb.

‘Yes, tall, middle aged man, with a wild look about his eyes, and a missing finger on his left hand. Interesting that he was talking to the girl. Mildred did not appear to be under any duress, according to the railway man. It suggests to me that she knew this man, and was quite willing to go with him on this journey. I find that very strange,’ said Ravenscroft mounting the trap.

‘Seems to rule out Mrs Drew.’

‘Maybe. He could have been taking the girl to her, but then again Drew resided in Worcester, which is the opposite direction
to Birmingham. Another thing I can’t understand is if this man and the girl travelled to Birmingham, why did he then return to Droitwich to kill Old John?’

‘Because he knew that Old John had seen him take the girl, and he was frightened that John would tell people who he was?’ suggested Crabb.

‘Exactly Tom! He wanted to make sure that Old John was out of the way. It still seems strange however that he would take the trouble to do that. He could have easily disappeared from view, with the girl, once they arrived in Birmingham. It is such a large place. However, I wonder whether they went there at all?’

‘I don’t understand sir?’

‘Whoever took Mildred must have known that eventually we would make enquiries at the railway station, and if that wretched man had been on duty on Wednesday, we would have obtained this information earlier. The man who took Mildred would have known that we would make enquiries in Birmingham, perhaps without success, but once we had alerted the police stations there, they would have been on the look out for the couple. What if he went somewhere else instead, somewhere where we would never think of looking for him and the girl? He has tricked us once already, by leaving that handkerchief in the canal.’

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