The Tewkesbury Tomb (2 page)

‘I am quite content to remain here, gentlemen,’ said Miss Eames, before Hollinger could reply.

‘Then it is agreed, we shall all remain,’ added Jenkins, observing that during this conversation Ross had moved across
towards the large oak door and had been busily intent on turning its iron handle.

‘My word, Ross, I do believe that you have found the door to be open!’ exclaimed Ganniford.

The Scotsman said nothing as he stepped into the building.

‘Well that is fortunate indeed. I think we should follow Mr Ross, gentlemen. After you, my good lady,’ said Hollinger.

One by one the group entered the Abbey.

‘Hold the lantern up, Ganniford,’ instructed Jenkins trying to adjust his eyes to the intense darkness of the interior.

‘Hello! Hello! Is there anyone here?’ shouted out his companion, complying with the request.

‘It would appear that we are, how you say, not with others, but quite alone, gentlemen,’ said Hollinger, raising the other lantern.

‘Perhaps we should withdraw, gentlemen, and return in the morning,’ suggested Miss Eames.

‘Unsporting of our host not to be here to great us, after the long way we have all come,’ muttered Anstruther, ignoring the last remark. ‘Bad manners I call it, and damned inconvenient.’

‘What are we to do now, gentlemen?’ asked Hollinger, a worried expression on his face.

‘I must confess I am at a loss as to how to proceed,’ said Jenkins.

‘Look here, in the letter it said something about the old knight’s tomb, or monument, or something like that,’ said Ganniford.

‘Ah, Sir Roger de la Pole, I believe that was his name. He is one of your Templar Knights buried here in the abbey,’ offered Hollinger.

‘Well if we find the tomb then perhaps we would then know how next to proceed,’ said Ganniford, becoming increasingly impatient.

‘Capital idea! Rather dark in here though,’ said Major Anstruther.

‘It is rather a large building, gentlemen,’ said Miss Eames.

‘Would do no harm to look,’ urged Ganniford.

‘May I make a suggestion?’ said Jenkins. ‘As we are six in number, and yet have only two lanterns, why do we not form two groups and divide the lanterns between us. Ganniford and Miss Eames shall accompany me down the left-hand side of the abbey, whilst you Hollinger, Major and Ross take the other side.’

‘Excellent suggestion, sir,’ echoed Anstruther.

‘Speaking of Mr Ross, I cannot see the gentleman,’ said Hollinger.

The five members looked intently around them, straining to see any sign of their companion in the gloom.

‘I don’t believe I’ve seen him since we entered the building,’ said a puzzled Ganniford. ‘He must have begun to search the abbey by himself.’

‘Then no doubt we shall shortly meet up with him again. If you would care to proceed onwards Herr Jenkins with your group, and Major if you would accompany me,’ said Hollinger.

‘If we find this Pole fellow first we’ll give you a shout,’ indicated Ganniford as they set off.

‘And we will do the same,’ added Hollinger.

‘You keep the lantern, Ganniford. Miss Eames if you would care to take my arm, so that neither of the three of us becomes separated.’

‘That is most kind of you, Mr Jenkins.’

Ganniford lead the way cautiously down the side aisle of the building, holding the lantern in front of the group, and pausing now and then so that they could examine the various monuments that lay along the side of the wall, and occasionally glancing across at the other party’s lantern as it flickered in the darkness.

‘It would help if I knew what we were looking for,’ said Ganniford, irritably, after a few minutes had elapsed.

‘I believe that Sir Roger de la Pole would be buried inside a monumental tomb of some kind,’ replied Jenkins. ‘It might even have his effigy on top of it.’

‘Can’t see who this fellow is,’ said Ganniford bringing the lantern closer to one of the monuments. ‘The carving’s long been worn away, and there does not appear to be any lettering left round the sides.’

‘I think that monument probably relates to one of the old abbots,’ said the lady of their party.

‘You seem remarkably well informed, Miss Eames,’ said Jenkins.

‘I have seen similar edifices in other religious buildings.’

‘Nothing for it then but to continue our search,’ sighed Ganniford.

As the trio moved deeper into the abbey, the lantern threw up enlarged shadows of themselves onto the walls of the building and, as they neared the centre, they could hear the occasional sound of footsteps in the far distance.

Suddenly a voice, whom they recognized as belonging to Hollinger, cried out in the darkness, ‘Over here, gentlemen. We have found the Templar!’

‘Can you hold your lantern higher so we may see you?’ asked Ganniford.

‘There!’ pointed Miss Eames.

The three seekers quickly made their way across to the other side of the building, where Major Anstruther and Doctor Hollinger were waiting for them.

‘I believe this is what we are looking for. Sir Roger de la Pole, the Templar Knight,’ said Hollinger, holding the lantern high so that its rays fell on the mounted sarcophagus.

‘No sign of Ross?’ asked Jenkins.

‘Good heavens! It looks as though someone has recently forced open the tomb!’ exclaimed Anstruther. ‘Bring the lantern closer.’

The group crowded round the stone monument.

‘I believe you’re correct, Major. It looks as though someone has opened the lid,’ said Ganniford leaning forwards.

‘Some effort would have been required. The stone must weigh a great deal,’ added Jenkins.

‘Why would someone want to break into the tomb?’ asked Miss Eames.

‘We may be able to look inside. Bring the light nearer, Hollinger, so that I can see,’ instructed Anstruther.

‘Can you see anything?’ enquired Ganniford impatiently as the major peered into the sarcophagus.

‘My God, there’s a body in here!’

‘The ancient bones of Sir Roger, I expect,’ suggested Jenkins.

‘No, not bones, gentlemen. Good grief, it is none other than our missing host Grantly!’ exclaimed Anstruther stepping back from the tomb.

‘Let me see,’ said Ganniford moving forward quickly and bringing the lantern closer to the monument.

‘What can you see?’ asked Jenkins eagerly.

‘It’s Stanhope!’ replied Ganniford. ‘What can you see, Hollinger?’

The doctor took the lantern and stared down into the open tomb, before stepping back and addressing the group. ‘Major, you said you believed the body to be that of a certain Mr Grantly?’

‘Yes, Grantly,’ replied the military gentleman.

‘And you, Mr Ganniford, thought the man to be a Mr Stanhope?’

‘Yes. He told me his name was Stanhope,’ answered a bewildered Ganniford.

‘Well, that is most strange, gentlemen, for you see I recognize the deceased as a Dr Thorne,’ continued Hollinger.

The members of the group looked at one another for some seconds before Jenkins broke the silence. ‘Perhaps I may be able to clarify the situation. If you will allow me the lantern for a moment, my dear Ganniford?’

Jenkins took the light and peered into the sarcophagus.

‘Well?’ asked Ganniford growing impatient by his friend’s silence.

‘This man was known to me as Professor Harding. This is all most strange. Miss Eames, I wonder whether you would oblige us.’

‘Good God, man, you can’t expect a lady to look down at a corpse inside that thing!’ protested Anstruther.

‘If it would help us, Major, I am quite prepared to do so,’ replied Miss Eames moving forward cautiously.

‘Let me give you the lantern, my good lady,’ said Jenkins.

Miss Eames took hold of the light and stared briefly into the tomb, before recoiling backwards.

‘My dear lady, let me take your arm,’ said Anstruther, placing a protective hand on the lady’s shoulder.

‘Would you care to take a seat, Miss Eames?’ asked an anxious Hollinger.

‘No, it is quite all right, gentlemen. I shall be well in a moment.’

‘Did you recognize the man?’ asked Ganniford eagerly.

‘Yes. The gentleman was known to me only as a Mr Robarts.’

‘This is, as you say in English, a most extraordinary state of affairs! It would appear that the deceased gentleman is known to all of us. In fact, I think it would be safe to conclude that it was
this gentleman who was instrumental in our all being here tonight – and yet it would also appear that the said gentleman was known to each of us individually by a different name,’ said Hollinger looking perplexed and rubbing his forehead with his hand.

‘Good lord, Jenkins, this is a deuce fine mystery and no mistake!’ exclaimed Ganniford.

‘It looks as though our host did keep his appointment after all,’ replied Jenkins.

‘Mystery or not, what are we to do with the fellow?’ asked Anstruther.

‘What do you mean, Major – what are we to do with him?’ enquired Hollinger.

‘Well, undoubtedly he’s dead, although he can’t have been in there for long. Why don’t we just push the lid back into its rightful position, and leave him inside?’

‘We cannot do that, Major. It is only right and proper that we report this death to the proper authorities,’ urged Hollinger.

‘I agree with the major,’ interrupted Ganniford. ‘But if we do report this matter to the authorities, how the deuce are we going to explain our presence here tonight? It would look rather odd to say the least.’

‘I am inclined to agree with you, Dr Hollinger. It is obvious that a crime has been committed, and as such we have a duty to report the matter,’ said Jenkins.

‘Miss Eames, what do you think?’ asked Ganniford.

‘I don’t know what to think, gentlemen,’ replied the lady shaking her head as she turned away from the scene.

‘Look here, Hollinger, how do you think all this is going to look? Six people walking around the abbey at this time of night. There’s bound to be some difficult questions to answer,’ said Anstruther pacing up and down.

‘The major is correct. It would look decidedly bad for us if we were to tell the authorities the real reason as to why we are all here tonight, trying to find the tomb of some medieval knight at such a late hour,’ continued Ganniford.

‘I must confess, my friend, that you may well have a point,’ acknowledged Jenkins.

‘Then let us put the top back on the tomb and leave as quickly as possible. No one would ever know that we have been here tonight,’ urged Anstruther.

‘I shouldn’t do that, sir, if I were you!’ said a gruff voice suddenly from out of the darkness.

The five members turned round quickly to see who had disturbed their conversation, and were alarmed to see a uniformed police officer standing before them holding a small lantern.

‘Now then, gentlemen – and miss – would someone care to tell me what has been going on here tonight?’

‘Samuel.’

‘Yes, my dear?’ replied a voice from behind the newspaper.

‘Are you familiar with the works of Mr Gilbert and Mr Sullivan?’

‘
When constabulary duty’s to be done, to be done, the policeman’s lot is not a happy one
!’ came back the tuneful reply.

‘Samuel, I did not know that you had such a fine voice!’

‘Pirates of Penzance
– or is it
Pinafore
?’ mused Ravenscroft, as he lowered his morning paper and stared at his wife through his spectacles, unsure as to whether she had just paid him a compliment, or had been merely teasing him over the breakfast table.

‘Oh, I think it was the former,’ replied Lucy. ‘More tea?’

‘Yes I believe it was the
Pirates
– although it could have been
Ruddigore
, the more I think about it,’ said Ravenscroft resuming his reading.

‘No, it was definitely
The Pirates of Penzance
.’

‘If you say so. Why do you ask?’

‘I read in the newspaper yesterday that Mr Gilbert and Mr Sullivan have composed a new operetta.’ ‘Really.’

‘They call it
The Gondoliers
,’ said Lucy, replenishing her husband’s empty cup.

‘Really,’ said a uninterested voice from behind the paper.

‘The critic in yesterday’s newspaper has declared it to be one of their finest works.’

‘Right.’

‘The songs are said to be very witty.’

‘Yes.’

‘The sets are quite colourful, I believe,’ persisted Lucy.

‘Yes.’

‘And the costumes are said to be quite striking in their design.’

‘Really.’

‘I wonder whether Mr Grossmith will be taking a role.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Samuel, you could at least listen to what I am saying,’ said a frustrated Lucy.

Ravenscroft lowered his newspaper once more. ‘I am sorry, my dear, you were saying?’

‘I was telling you about
The Gondoliers
, the new operetta by Mr Gilbert and Mr Sullivan.’

‘Ah yes – and no doubt this work is being performed in London this very day.’

‘The paper said the piece had been so well received, there was no reason that it should not run until the middle of the summer, at the very least. The critic in the
Illustrated London
News
declared that it had been the finest thing he had seen this year. I was wondering whether we might undertake a short visit to— But no, you are far too busy,’ said Lucy, turning away and
looking out of the window.

‘So this is what all this has been all about. You would like us to visit the capital to attend a performance of this
Gondoliers
,’ said Ravenscroft smiling.

‘Oh, Samuel, could we? I should so like to visit London. I have never been there, and have always wanted to go. We could go to one of the museums as well, or perhaps even Westminster Abbey. We need only be away for one night, if we caught the morning train?’ said Lucy, excitedly, placing a hand on her husband’s arm.

‘And when were you thinking that we might undertake this excursion, my dear?’ asked Ravenscroft.

‘Well, we could go next week – or even this week. You do not seem to be particularly busy at the moment, and I am sure you must be eligible for a few days’ relief. Oh do say yes, Samuel! I’m sure you would enjoy returning to London, even if only for a day or two, and I know you would so like to show me all your old familiar places,’ continued Lucy, looking deeply into her husband’s eyes.

‘How can I, let alone any man, resist that beautiful, enticing smile of yours? Of course we shall go to London – and yes, you will see
The Gondoliers
.’

‘Oh, Samuel, you are the most wonderful man in the world!’ cried Lucy leaning across the table and planting a kiss on her husband’s cheek.

‘Excuse me, miss – sorry, Mrs Ravenscroft, Constable Crabb has just arrived and requests that he speaks with the master on urgent business,’ interrupted the maid at the doorway.

‘I’m sorry, my dear—’ began Ravenscroft.

‘Will you show Constable Crabb in, Susan?’ said Lucy, leaning back in her chair and giving a slight sigh as she did so.

‘Constable Crabb, sir,’ announced the maid.

‘Ah, Tom, do take a seat,’ indicated Ravenscroft as the young, red-faced constable entered the room.

‘Thank you, sir. Good morning to you, Mrs Ravenscroft,’ replied Crabb accepting the seat.

‘How are you, Tom?’

‘Never better, ma’am.’

‘And how is your wife Jennie and your adorable son?’ enquired Lucy.

‘Both very well, thank you, Mrs Ravenscroft.’

‘Perhaps you would care to join us for breakfast?’

‘No, thank you, ma’am, Jennie cooked me a fine repast before I left.’

‘What can we do for you then, Tom?’ asked Ravenscroft. ‘You look a little out of breath.’

‘I am sorry to intrude on your breakfast, sir, and Mrs Ravenscroft. I came as quickly as I could. The truth of the matter is, sir, that there appears to have been a terrible murder at Tewkesbury,’ began the constable.

‘Go on,’ instructed Ravenscroft, laying his newspaper to one side and leaning forward.

‘Apparently, last night, just after twelve, Constable Reynolds, the local town policeman, was going about his rounds when he happened to see a light flickering from inside the abbey. Upon further investigation he saw that the door to the building had been left slightly ajar and, as he slipped into the abbey, he could make out some voices inside. As he drew nearer, he saw what looked like a group of people all gathered round one of the tombs and upon closer investigation he found that the lid of the tomb had been forced open.’

‘Interesting, tell me more,’ said Ravenscroft, his curiosity aroused.

‘Well, sir, it appears that there was a body inside the tomb.’

‘I thought that’s where they usually buried people, inside tombs’ said Lucy.

‘Ah yes, Mrs Ravenscroft, but this wasn’t your usual collection of old bones, or decaying flesh, it was a freshly laid-out corpse, probably been killed that same day.’

‘And someone, probably the killer, had deposited the body inside the tomb, with the object of concealment. How very strange. Do we know how this person died?’ asked Ravenscroft.

‘He had suffered a nasty blow to the back of his head.’

‘You mentioned that Constable Reynolds had entered the abbey because he had first seen a light, and that there was a group of people standing around the tomb.’

‘Yes, sir. There were five of them, four gents and a lady.’

‘Did they offer any explanation as to their presence in the abbey at such a late hour?’

‘Said they had been talking together at the Hop Pole and that one of them had suggested that they should go and visit the abbey to see the tombs.’

‘But it was after twelve o’clock at night,’ interjected Lucy.

‘Exactly, ma’am.’

‘This is all very interesting, Tom, but why are you telling me all this? Tewkesbury is out of my jurisdiction. Sergeant Braithwaite is in charge there, I believe – and how did you learn about this strange state of affairs?’

‘That is correct, sir, but Sergeant Braithwaite has been ill of late, and is undertaking a few days’ rest in Eastbourne.’

‘Rather a long way to go,’ remarked Ravenscroft.

‘He has got relations there, so I understand.’

‘I see.’

‘Constable Reynolds made his way straight over to my house this morning, where he imparted all that had taken place. When I arrived at the station this morning I found this telegram had
arrived there from headquarters, says you are to take charge of the case until Braithwaite returns,’ said Crabb, reaching into his pocket and removing a piece of paper which he passed over to his superior.

‘You are right, Crabb. “Proceed with all haste to Tewkesbury. Investigate murder in abbey”,’ read Ravenscroft.

‘I’ve harnessed the trap, sir.’

‘Then we should leave now, without delay. Excuse me, my dear,’ said Ravenscroft rising from his chair.

‘Of course,’ said Lucy.

‘I’m afraid
The Gondoliers
will have to wait for the present.’

‘We can go later in the season,’ said a resigned Lucy.

‘When we shall certainly take in the museums, and the abbey as well. I think you will also enjoy St Paul’s. Lead on, Tom.’

Later that morning as their trap approached the bridge that would take them into the town of Tewkesbury, Ravenscroft looked across the road to where old warehouses and tiny cottages fought for space along the banks of the river.

‘I take it you have not visited Tewkesbury before today, sir?’ asked Crabb.

‘You are correct in your assumption, Tom.’

‘It’s a busy market-town, also popular with visitors at weekends who like to take trips along the river.’

Ravenscroft nodded as the trap approached an old inn with decorative flower baskets and rustic seats around its exterior. Crabb swung the vehicle sharply to their right and the pair found themselves travelling along the main street of the town, where a fine collection of four-storey, timber-framed buildings looked down upon their progress.

At the end of the road Crabb again turned the trap to their right, narrowly missing two young girls wearing pinafores and
large hats who had been attempting to steer a pram from one side of the road to the other. Here, the Victoria Coffee Tavern looked across towards the Berkeley Arms Inn, the shop-front awnings and tall buildings cast long shadows on the ground and a number of half-laden carts stood idly by. A large building on their right announced itself to be the Hop Pole Hotel, its fine entrance portico attempting to enhance its importance.

‘That’s the abbey,’ said Crabb pointing to his left.

‘Rather a fine building,’ said Ravenscroft alighting from the trap and beginning to make his way up the path that led to the main entrance. ‘If I am not mistaken, I see someone is expecting us.’

‘That will be Reynolds, sir. I told him to meet us here.’

‘Good morning, sir,’ said the stout, uniformed constable raising his hand to his temple.

‘Reynolds,’ acknowledged Ravenscroft.

‘I took the liberty of forbidding all access to the abbey for the public, until after you had visited the scene of the crime, sir.’

‘Good thinking, Reynolds. I trust the body has been removed to the mortuary?’ asked Ravenscroft.

‘It has, sir.’

‘Constable Crabb has informed me of the circumstances of yesterday evening. You say it was the light from a lantern that first drew your attention to the building?’

‘Yes, sir. Usually when I go past the abbey at that time of night, there is not a light to be seen inside and the main door is locked.’

‘And when you entered the abbey you found a group of people standing round the open tomb.’

‘That is correct, sir.’

‘You questioned these people – there were five of them, I understand?’

‘Yes, sir, four gentlemen and a lady.’

‘And what explanation did they offer for their presence in the abbey at such a late hour?’

‘Said they had been talking together at the Hop Pole over dinner, and that one of them had suggested that they should go and view the inside of the abbey.’

‘And where are these people now?’

‘They are at the Hop Pole, sir, just over the road. One of the gentlemen, of military bearing, said he was anxious to return to London. Said he had an urgent appointment to keep – but I told them that you would want to speak to them all upon your arrival here, sir, and that no one should leave the town before then.’

‘Well done, Reynolds. You have acted well.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ replied the officer looking somewhat embarrassed by the compliment.

‘Well, Crabb, we’d better go inside and see what all this is about,’ said Ravenscroft.

‘Oh, one word before you goes inside, sir.’

‘Yes Constable?’

‘Thought I ought to warn you, there’s a religious gentleman, the Revd Jesterson – well, to put it mildly, he’s in a bit of a state.’

‘Obviously upset by last night’s events,’ suggested Ravenscroft.

‘You are probably correct, sir. If you would care to follow me,’ said the constable opening the door to the abbey.

The three men entered the building and, as they made their way down the nave of the church, they were met by a tall, thin gentleman dressed in a long clerical robe.

‘Thank goodness you have come. What a terrible thing to have happened. Such violation, such desecration of God’s house. What unholy person could have committed such an outrage?’

‘Inspector Ravenscroft at your service, sir,’ interjected Ravenscroft, breaking into the clergyman’s agitated flow of
words. ‘And this is my associate, Constable Crabb. I believe you know Constable Reynolds already.’

‘The Reverend Thomas Jesterson,’ he replied, shaking Ravenscroft’s hand. ‘I am so relieved that you have arrived. This terrible occurrence is beyond all comprehension!’

‘You are in charge of the abbey, sir?’ asked Ravenscroft, hoping to calm the other’s distressful outpourings by his line of questioning.

‘I see to the day-to-day running of the building, but I—’

‘Tell me, Reverend, is the building usually locked at night?’ asked Ravenscroft.

‘Why, yes, Inspector.’

‘And was it locked last night?’

‘Yes, I locked the building myself, at around eight o’clock.’

‘Did you notice anything unusual at the time?’

‘Unusual?’

‘Yes. Did anything seem out of place? Did you notice any strangers wandering round the building?’

‘No. There was no one here when I locked up the building. It was such an unpleasant evening, heavy rain and strong winds. I was quite anxious to return to my own home as quickly as possible.’

‘But you definitely remember locking the abbey before you left.’

‘I have just said that,’ replied the clergyman.

‘Does anyone else have access to the abbey, other than yourself?’ asked Ravenscroft, observing that his previous question had caused the other some annoyance.

‘The verger has the only other key.’

‘And he is?’

‘Trent. He resides at number five along the row of black and white buildings just to the side of the entrance to the abbey.’