Kerry Tombs - The Worcester Whisperers

‘Perhaps there are more than two sets of keys?’ suggested Crabb. ‘Or maybe the thief stole the set of keys from Evelyn?’

‘If that was so, why smash the case?’

‘Perhaps Evelyn forgot to lock the door when he left that night, and the thief just walked in and smashed the case?’

‘That could be a possibility, but there is another strange thing. Whoever smashed open the case with the candlestick risked damaging the book. The stick itself might have landed on it and some of the smashed fragments would almost certainly have cut the pages. The point in taking the book was that it was a rare item. Whoever took it would not have wanted to run the risk of damaging it. Also look at the way the stick lies in the cabinet: I would say just where it landed. The thief would have had to remove it in order to recover the book. Tell me, Crabb, if you had used this stick to break open this case to get at the book, how would you have done it?’

Crabb thought for a moment. ‘I would have raised the candlestick like this to break the glass, but would have kept hold of it and probably discarded it on the floor afterwards.’

‘Precisely; you would not have risked the stick crashing into the case and damaging the book, you would have kept hold of your weapon.’

‘So what do you think happened, sir?’

‘I believe that whoever was here that evening, used the keys to open the door of the library, and the case; then he removed the book before locking the case and using the candlestick to break the glass. The thief then left in a hurry, failing to lock the door behind him.’

‘This is all rather suspicious, sir.’

‘I don’t think we can rule out the possibility that it was Evelyn himself who not only took the book but also smashed the case afterwards.’

‘But why go to all that trouble, when he could have just taken the book anyway?’ asked Crabb, looking perplexed.

‘Perhaps he wanted it to look as though someone had broken in and taken the item.’

‘But if he planned to abscond with the book, surely he would not have been bothered what the authorities would think?’

‘Maybe he planned to arrive for work the following day, make believe that he had just discovered the theft, and by raising the alarm would hope to leave himself in the clear?’

‘But he did not return the following day,’ added Crabb.

‘No,’ said Ravenscroft deep in thought. ‘He did not. I wonder why.’

‘He probably thought better of it when he reached home. Thought he would run off with the book after all, while he could,’ suggested Crabb.

‘Perhaps; well, I don’t think there is anything else here for us. Just look at his desk. See if there are any notes or letters, or anything else he might have left that may be of interest.’

‘Right, sir,’ replied Crabb, beginning to search through the desk, as Ravenscroft busied himself by walking between the library shelves, admiring the rows of books there, and pausing now and then to examine some particular work which attracted his attention.

‘Nothing, sir,’ said Crabb, looking up from the desk, after a few minutes.

‘Then let us make our way down.’

The two policemen retraced their steps to the vestry, and after a brief look around there, began their descent to the ground.

‘This is interesting,’ said Ravenscroft, crouching down on one of the steps. ‘See here, part of a used candle. I wonder whether our thief dropped it in haste, on his way down? If so, he would have been plunged into darkness. Fortunately we have the daylight from the slits in the wall. At night it would have been completely dark.’

‘Lucky he found his way to the bottom without falling and breaking his neck.’

Upon reaching the ground floor, Ravenscroft and Crabb set off to explore the rest of the cathedral.

‘Some building this!’ remarked Crabb.

‘Indeed, but it was not all built in a day. The cathedral was obviously built in stages, each generation seeking to continue the work that had been begun by others. Today we can only marvel at such dedication and determination,’ said Ravenscroft, pausing to examine one of the monuments in the chancel.

‘King John, gentlemen!’

Ravenscroft turned round to see who had spoken to them.

‘I see you have found our monument to wicked King John. You must be Inspector Ravenscroft? Let me introduce myself: Matthew Taylor, choirmaster of this noble edifice, at your service.’

The two men shook hands. Ravenscroft observed that the speaker was a young man of untidy appearance and wayward hair. ‘I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr Taylor. This is my associate Constable Crabb.’

‘I hear you have come from London to help us recover the old Whisperie. ’

‘We can but try,’ said Ravenscroft. ‘We are also looking into the disappearance of the librarian.’

‘Ah, old Evelyn; you think he ran off with the book?’ smiled the younger man.

‘We are keeping an open mind.’

‘I doubt that he is your thief, Inspector,’ replied the other, in a casual, light-hearted manner.

‘Oh, why do you say that, sir?’ enquired Ravenscroft.

‘The man was as dull and as cold as that stone over there — completely lacking in any form of imagination or initiative. Such an act as bold as that of the stealing of the Whisperie was beyond his enterprise.’

‘You did not think much of Mr Evelyn then?’ asked Ravenscroft, intrigued to learn more from the young choirmaster.

‘To tell you the truth, Inspector, I don’t think that I ever exchanged more than a dozen words with him. He was the sort of person who always seemed to be there, like one of the old tombs, merging into the background. I always thought it best to ignore him. He was rather a sad person I suppose. No, Mr Ravenscroft I think you will have to cast your net a little wider.’

‘And where do you suggest we “cast our net”, sir?’

‘Far be it for me to cast aspersions or blight anyone’s character by rumour and whisper, Inspector. But I suppose you might begin in the direction of Dr Silas Renfrew.’

‘Silas Renfrew?’ asked Crabb.

‘Antiquarian and scholar of this parish; he lives in a rambling old house up towards Fort Royal. He has plenty of money at his disposal, and has a fine collection of old books and manuscripts, by all accounts. He was always visiting the library here. I know he particularly admired the Whisperie . He spoke to me about it once, saying he would gladly like to possess it if it ever came on the open market. Perhaps he took it to enhance his collection.’

‘I thank you, Mr Taylor. We will be interviewing Dr Renfrew during our enquiries.’

‘Well, if you will excuse me, gentlemen, I have yet another dreary choral rehearsal to conduct at the King’s School. I leave you in the safe hands of the blessed saints, Wulfstan and Oswald.’

‘Who?’ asked Crabb.

‘Dear me, Constable, you must really do your homework. They were both early bishops of Worcester. If it was not for them, there would be no cathedral and we would not be standing here today. That is Wulfstan over there, and Oswald is on the other side,’ said Taylor, pointing to two stone shrines that lay on either side of the chancel. ‘Until we meet again, Inspector.’

Ravenscroft nodded, as the choirmaster set off at a brisk walk down the main body of the church.

‘Which one is Oswald?’ asked Crabb, looking down at the worn effigy. ‘This one seems to have been knocked about a bit.’

‘It was probably vandalized at the time of the Civil War. Interesting character our Mr Taylor,’ said Ravenscroft, beginning to make his way down the aisle towards the nave of the cathedral.

‘He seems very young to be the choirmaster.’