Kerry Tombs - The Worcester Whisperers

‘I’m sorry,’ replied Ravenscroft looking down.

‘Then you leave me with no alternative.’

Ravenscroft looked up to see that Henderson had removed a pistol from his coat pocket.

‘I don’t want to do this, Ravenscroft. You are a decent enough man, but I’m not prepared to face the gallows. It’s your word against mine, but I can’t take the risk in letting you go. I’ll say I came up here and found you dead. Shot by our murderer before I arrived. People will accept my word. I am, after all, the superintendent of the local force. I’ll arrest Cranston, plant the gun in his rooms, and charge him with your murder.’

‘Very neat; you seem to have thought of everything.’

‘I really am sorry. There’s no other way out,’ said Henderson pointing the gun at his junior officer.

‘And I’m sorry to have to disappoint you, sir, but before you press that trigger, you might consider that I would not have been so foolish as to come up here alone.’

‘Don’t be stupid, man! There’s no one else here but us. That’s just foolish bravado!’

‘That’s where you are wrong. You see, after you climbed the stairs, I gave instructions that you were to be followed. Our conversation and your confession have been witnessed by Constable Crabb, Brother Jonus and two officers who have been situated all this time at the top of the steps.’

‘Stuff and nonsense! You’re bluffing!’ protested Henderson, going red in the face and waving his pistol around.

‘I assure you that I am not. Show yourselves, gentlemen!’

Crabb, Brother Jonus and a number of police officers emerged from the stairwell and stepped out on to the top of the tower.

‘Damn you, Ravenscroft!’ shouted Henderson.

‘So you see, there is no point in continuing. Give me your revolver, if you please.’

Henderson glanced at the others, and then stared at Ravenscroft a look of hatred on his face.

‘My son, do as the inspector says. Atone for your sins,’ pleaded Brother Jonus taking a step forwards.

‘Stay back!’ yelled Henderson.

‘You can’t shoot us all,’ added Crabb.

‘Damn you all!’ shouted Henderson, flinging the gun over the parapet. ‘Damn you!’

‘Take him, men,’ instructed the inspector.

Two uniformed officers stepped forwards and placed a set of handcuffs around Henderson’s wrists.

‘Constable Crabb, perhaps you would be good enough to see that you and the other officers escort the superintendent back to the station.’ said Ravenscroft.

‘Right you are, sir. Come along, Mr Henderson,’ said Crabb laying a hand on the arrested man’s arm and leading him down the steps.

‘So, my son, you have caught your murderer at last,’ said Brother Jonus.

‘Indeed. It was Henderson who took the monk’s habit that night and used it to conceal himself, as he made his way down to the river, where he killed Evelyn.’

‘Terrible. Quite terrible!’

‘I must say I have a degree of sympathy for him. He had lost both his sons and his wife. I suppose, though, that the real criminal in all this was Evelyn himself,’ said Ravenscroft.

‘Yes, the poor man. I should have been able to help him.’

‘You could do little for him, Brother Jonus. He lived with his guilt for nearly forty years. The last thing he wanted in this life was to confess his sins to anyone,’ suggested Ravenscroft.

‘It is to be hoped, Inspector, that in his moment of death, he might have finally asked for forgiveness and have been granted salvation by our Lord.’

‘Who knows, Brother? I know one thing, however.’

‘And what is that, my son?’

‘I will be mighty relieved to get off this roof. Heights and I do not go well together.’

‘Then it is to be hoped that your eventual passage to Heaven will be made as easy as possible,’ smiled Brother Jonus, as the two men began their descent.

‘Before that occurs, Brother, there remains much work to be done. I must now recover the Whisperie , before Renfrew learns of Henderson’s arrest and flies the coop!’

Darkness was beginning to fall, as Ravenscroft, Crabb and a group of uniformed officers found themselves standing outside the house of Dr Silas Renfrew.

‘At least the house does not appear to have been locked up, so we can hope that the owner is still in residence,’ said Ravenscroft, lifting up the knocker and bringing it down heavily on the wooden door.

‘Let’s hope that he still has the manuscripts, sir,’ said Crabb.

The door opened to reveal the manservant Georgio.

‘We wish to see your master,’ said Ravenscroft.

‘My master, he is a’busy. Cannot see you,’ said the Italian, glaring at the policemen, before attempting to close the door in Ravenscroft’s face.

‘I’m sorry that will not do,’ said Ravenscroft pushing past the servant, closely followed by Crabb and his colleagues.

‘What is a’this?’ protested the Italian.

‘You three men take the upstairs. You other two take the kitchens. You know what you are looking for. On no account let anyone leave the house,’ instructed Ravenscroft.

‘You cannot, a’do this,’ replied Georgio, grabbing Crabb by the shoulders.

‘That’s all right, Georgio. Let him go. The police are only doing their duty’, interrupted an American voice.

‘Doctor Renfrew,’ said Ravenscroft.

‘So, Inspector, we meet again. I see your curiosity has got the better of you. May I ask on what grounds you have sought to violate my house?’

‘We have reason to believe that you are in possession of stolen property,’ answered Ravenscroft, making his way across the hallway towards the library.

‘Ah, you mean the Antiphoner and the Whisperie . I have already proved to you, Inspector, that I purchased the former work legally in New York some years ago, before I came to this country. As to the Whisperie , you will not find it here because I have never been in possession of it in the first place,’ said Renfrew, in his familiar, confident, slow American drawl.

‘We have arrested Henderson who has told us everything. How he sold you both manuscripts,’ said Ravenscroft, quickly looking round the study, reassured that the Antiphoner still lay within its case.

‘My God, Inspector, you must be desperate if you have arrested your own superior officer,’ laughed Renfrew.

‘Then you deny the accusation, Dr Renfrew?’ asked Ravenscroft.

‘Of course I do. The whole idea that Superintendent Henderson sold me two stolen manuscripts is the height of absurdity — or perhaps this is all an example of your strange English humour?’

‘We have contacted the auction house in New York, and await their reply. I am confident that their response will indicate that they did not sell the Antiphoner to you. I believe you obtained a copy of their headed notepaper and wrote out the receipt yourself. I’m sure that a close analysis of the handwriting on the receipt and a copy of your own hand will prove that they are one and the same.’

‘I see, Inspector,’ replied Renfrew, looking somewhat crestfallen.

‘It would save us all a lot of time and bother, sir, if you confessed to the purchase of the Antiphoner knowing it to be stolen,’ said Ravenscroft, confronting the American face to face, knowing that at last he had disturbed the other’s usual calm exterior.

‘Very well, Inspector,’ sighed Renfrew. ‘I confess that Superintendent Henderson did approach me a few months ago with the Antiphoner . He said that the work had been stolen from the cathedral, but had been personally recovered by himself, and that he was making investigations as to who the culprit was. In the meantime, he did not wish to return the manuscript to the cathedral authorities, and asked me to house it here in my own collection for safe-keeping, whilst he was continuing with his investigations, pending its eventual return to the library. Of course, had I known that Henderson had stolen the work himself in the first place, then I would have contacted the appropriate authorities straight away, but then I had no cause to suspect him,’ said Renfrew recovering his composure.