Kerry Tombs - The Worcester Whisperers

‘Good God!’ exclaimed Henderson.

‘Yes, young Malcolm must have become Evelyn’s next victim. He probably learnt of the real cause of his brother’s death, or if he did not, must have at least deduced that Evelyn had played a major part in his brother’s demise. But then, when Malcolm returned home in the holidays there was a cholera outbreak in the town where he lived. He contracted the disease, fell ill and suddenly died. His gravestone says “Unexpectedly taken from us”. Evelyn must have breathed a sigh of relief when he learnt of the boy’s death, for he realized that his secret was safe, and his life continued as it had before, full of loneliness and shame. And I suppose that would have been the end of things, and eventually Evelyn would have died taking his secret with him to the grave. But then I asked myself, what if young Malcolm Tinniswood had told of his suspicions regarding Evelyn to someone before his death, perhaps a schoolfriend, or a master, and that this confidant had kept the secret for over twenty years until he saw the opportunity to confront Evelyn and to use him to acquire precious manuscripts from the cathedral collection.’

‘Go on,’ urged Henderson.

‘Our murderer was very clever. He never confronted Evelyn direct. He used the hidden cavity in the old ruined house down by the river to leave notes for Evelyn, so that he would not reveal his true identity. After he had threatened the librarian that he would reveal the secret of Evelyn’s past, he demanded the theft of the Antiphoner in exchange for his silence. After he had acquired this work, he was not satisfied and instructed Evelyn to steal the Whisperie , in exchange for his release. Evelyn felt compelled to comply with this request and returned to the cathedral late one night when he thought no one would see him, but where in fact he was observed by both the Tovey sisters and Brother Jonus. After taking the Whisperie and creating the impression that someone had broken in and stolen the work, he left the manuscript in the usual hiding place, and was coming back towards the cathedral when our murderer killed him and pushed his body into the river.’

‘This is all very well, Ravenscroft, but there is one flaw in all of this,’ interrupted Henderson.

‘And what is that, sir?’

‘Surely it would have been easier for your murderer to have just taken the Antiphoner and the Whisperie, without all this supposed recourse to blackmail?’

‘You would have thought so, but the library was kept locked with the dean and Evelyn having the only keys. I have no doubt that our thief could have overcome this obstacle, but there was always the risk that he would be caught in the act. By blackmailing Evelyn and using him to take the manuscripts, he would avoid the chance of being caught himself.’

‘Very clever!’

‘As you say, sir, very clever — or that is what we were supposed to think, that the main motive was the theft and acquisition of the manuscripts. But I believe our murderer desired one thing more than all this. He wanted to see Evelyn dead, for you see his main purpose was not the theft of the Antiphoner and the Whisperie — although he could see that he could sell the works and make a tidy sum — no, his main desire was for revenge,’ he said, turning away and looking out over the town.

‘If your theory is correct, is it not time that your murderer made his appearance?’ said Henderson, taking out his pocket watch and examining the hands. ‘It looks to me as though he is not going to show up. Got cold feet and backed off, I’ll be bound. All this has been a complete waste of time, if you ask me.’

‘Far from it. You see, I did not expect anyone else to join us. There were no letters written to our chief suspects. I informed only one person that I would be up here tonight — and that was you! The person who killed Nicholas Evelyn was none other than yourself,’ said Ravenscroft, turning round and looking his superior straight in the eye.

‘For God’s sake, man! You’re rambling! Now I know this has all been far too much for you,’ protested Henderson.

‘Yesterday I went to Hay-on-Wye, where the Tinniswoods lived. I learnt that they had left the town over twenty years ago, or rather one of them did, the other three remain buried in the churchyard — the two boys, Martin and Malcolm, and their mother Martha. There was no trace of the father, Robert Tinniswood. That is because he shut up the house after the death of his wife, and left the town, adopting his wife’s maiden name and entering the army where he rose to the rank of major, later retiring, before being elevated to the position of Superintendent here in Worcester. For you see the name on his wife’s gravestone was Henderson!’

‘Very clever,’ said Henderson, staring into the distance.

‘Something always worried me about this case. I was invited to investigate the crime by the Dean and Chapter of the cathedral, because of the lack of progress that had been made by your force in finding either Evelyn or the missing manuscript. Of course, you had no desire to solve the crime; you hoped that in time it would all go away. It must have been very irritating for you when I turned up. When Evelyn’s body was recovered down at Upton, you had not even searched the corpse to see what possessions he had on him, because you did not want the keys to the library to be found on his person. You always maintained that someone else had broken into the library, and when we later established that it had been Evelyn all along who had stolen the manuscript, you suggested that the work probably lay at the bottom of the Severn. You were annoyed when I took men away to search the grounds near the river and revealed the hiding place, and hindered our further requests for manpower claiming that your men were needed for the policing of the Worcester Races. You were no doubt relieved when Billy, the bargeman, was killed, and were more than anxious to pin the blame for both murders on him, being reluctant for me to continue with my investigations. You could see that I was not getting anywhere, and knew that eventually my lack of success would give you the excuse you needed to demand my recall to London. That is why you gave me just two days to conclude my investigations — and, of course, you did not want to organize a search of Renfrew’s house where you knew we might find the Whisperie and discover that he had purchased the work from yourself.’

‘I see you have worked it all out, Ravenscroft. It was that damned headstone that gave it away! You were right. Shortly before my son Malcolm died of that dreadful fever, he spoke of his suspicions regarding Evelyn. A few weeks after his death, my wife also died. I had no desire to remain in Hay, and, as you said, joined the army using my wife’s maiden name, Henderson. My service took me out to Africa, and then India for a number of years, but all the time I was out there I could not forget my wife and my two children, and swore that one day I would make Evelyn pay for the way he had abused my boys! Then last year, I was appointed as the superintendent of the force here in Worcester. I found that Evelyn was still alive, and wanted to kill him for what he had done all those years ago — but first I used him to acquire the two manuscripts, which I then sold on to Renfrew. The man was an evil predator who took innocent young boys and corrupted them. He deserved to die.’

‘I understand that. Nevertheless, a crime has been committed and you know that I must arrest you for the murder of Nicholas Evelyn,’ said Ravenscroft firmly.

‘Damn it, Ravenscroft, can’t you see the justice in all this? The man finally paid for his crimes. What good would it do to arrest me? Any father would have done the same,’ pleaded Henderson.