“Are you sure you’ve not got shares in the place? I’m starving, and as long as they have food I’ll be happy,” she joked as they went into the hotel.
Over dinner they talked about her plans and she explained that she had met Raymond at a conference and that they had become quite close. “It’s still a bit of a secret,” she said, “but he’s asked me to marry him, and I’ve said yes.”
Ralph was surprised that he had no feelings of jealousy. Although he admitted to himself that he had hoped he and Jane might rekindle a bit of their romance when their paths crossed again two years earlier, after the first few weeks of reminiscing it had been obvious to both of them that too much water had passed under the bridge since their Cambridge days. He was pleased that they could enjoy a nice easy friendship, He found that he was genuinely happy that Jane was making a new life for herself although he felt a twinge of envy that he hadn’t yet found Mrs. Right.
“So that’s just about it for me. How about you? Any new murders to be solved around the University?” she asked with a smile.
He told her about the Jack Royston incident and how it had been concluded with the arrest of Berick.
“Oh Ralph, I’m so sorry. I would never have made light of solving murders if I had any idea that something so tragic had actually occurred. That family must have been through hell over the past 20 years. And that poor lad, what was his name, Ted? Is probably out in New Zealand not even aware that his mum is dead and his father is being charged with murder. Life can be very cruel. It’s not the level playing field those of us who have had it easier pretend.”
“Funny. I’d forgotten all about Ted Berick. For all we know he could be anywhere. He must be in his 40’s by now. Of course he could be happily married and have 5 kids and be living an idyllic lifestyle for all we know. No doubt he is the life of the party somewhere, regaling everyone with dark deeds of Gypsy Hill.”
“Well we had our share of those ourselves, Ralph. That day I got spooked by Jim Stocker and knocked myself out on that tree. That’s enough excitement to last me a lifetime,” she laughed as she recalled her accident during the incident that the papers had tagged ‘The Gypsy Hill Murders’. “But at least when they called me in to do the site excavation at Kingston it brought us back in touch. Our friendship is still very important to me.”
And to me,” Ralph said. “I’m just sorry it required so much drama to get you to Kingston for a visit. I hope that when you and Raymond get back from your foray in Egypt the two of you will come back for a visit now and then.”
“Oh, you can count on it. But tell me about the conference. I’ve heard a bit of the scuttlebutt and of course most of it is praise for the way you’ve organized everything. Did you manage to get Sir George Rainton for the closing speech? It would certainly be a feather in your cap if you pulled that one off. And especially if it’s absent the drama this time,” she said.
Ralph told her about Rainton having had threats made by the Russian Mafia and how he had around the clock protection, including a personal minder.
“Well, let’s hope that Kingston has already had its annual murder. And from the way you talk, you have just about done the police’s work in solving that one for them. One murder solved a year should keep any amateur sleuth happy,” she added with a laugh.
He liked the way they could now tease each other without that underlying tension they had before they stopped trying to breathe life into their defunct romantic past and enjoy their new grown-up friendship.
They finished their coffee and Ralph drove Jane back to her apartment in Reading where they said their farewells and he wished Jane bon voyage and they parted with lots of the usual promises to write and keep in touch.
As the car purred along the motorway Ralph’s mind went back to their conversation about Ted Berick. Could it be that Ted had heard about what had happened to his father and mother? Had he come home for the funeral? And how serious were the threats to Rainton? It seemed unlikely that the Russian Mafia would strike in the tranquil surroundings of a University campus. He was thankful that nothing had happened on his watch. Granger and Joe Bullen had taken over the reins so far as the conference luncheon was concerned, and he was relieved his part was over, apart from simply standing in attendance like the rest of the staff. He was more than happy for the spotlight to be on someone else, for once.
Soon Ralph was backhome sitting in his favourite chair listening to Beethoven and reflecting on the recent happenings. Jane was looking forward to her work in Egypt and to her upcoming marriage to Raymond. Ralph was surprised that he was relieved about the way things had turned out for them as well. And now that the conference was almost concluded he had time to start thinking about the summer banquet on the Thames. A glowing fire and a small malt whisky allowed him to drift off into a peaceful sleep. The wind rattled at the leaded windows and whispered in the tall pines surrounding his apartment. Everyone was happy. It was almost perfect.
***
Bringing a conference to a conclusion was always tricky. Many of the delegates were from overseas and thoughts of catching taxis to the airport tended to dominate. The papers for the morning session had been well received and the groups from the various conference themes were looking forward to a splendid luncheon. Sir George was staying at the Kingston Lodge Hotel and had told Ralph that he was meeting there with an important client before coming to the luncheon at Gypsy Hill.
Rupert Granger and Sir James Rainton were engaged in the usual small talk when Ralph arrived at the University. Ralph heard Granger’s voice as he came into the vestibule. As usual, he was making the most of his opportunity to promote the University and himself.
“We were delighted when your son agreed to take time out of his busy schedule to contribute to the conference, Sir James. The fact that he is an alumnus who has gone on to be a success at a global level in business makes it particularly gratifying.”
“His graduation from Kingston was an important first step,” Sir James said. “His mother and I told him that we would send him to University, but after that it was up to him to make a success of his life. We never believed in handing everything to him on a silver platter like some of our friends have done. But I’ll give the boy credit, he’s done very well for himself ever since.”
“Yes, I’m sure you must be very proud of his achievements. But as they say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Ganger said. It was evident, at least to Ralph, that Granger was trying to curry favour.
“And I continue to hear good things about Kingston in all disciplines, said Sir James. “Let’s hope that we can all work together to keep Higher Education at a high standard in spite of the cuts in allocations that we are having to make over the next few years,” Sir James added in an obvious attempt to return the compliment.
Ralph could almost feel the glow emanating from Granger as Sir James continued to say good things about Kingston. But he was becoming a little anxious that his keynote speaker had not shown up for the luncheon, especially as the delegates were starting to move back into the conference hall. He decided to phone the Hotel. The concierge said that Sir George had left the Hotel over an hour ago, saying that he wanted to get some exercise and that the ten minute walk would do him good. He had instructed them to send his driver to the college with his luggage and wait for him outside Kenry House. Ralph managed to catch Granger’s attention.
“It seems that our keynote speaker might have gone to the wrong conference room. If you can start the ball rolling I will try to find him.” He tried to keep a calm tone to his voice in spite of his growing concerns.
“Look if anything goes wrong now I’ll hold you responsible,” said Granger. “I’ve got the Minister praising us, and now you tell me that you’ve managed to lose his son. Are you sure you didn’t tell him that the conference was over? He might be on his way back to London for all we know. I certainly hope you’ve got a plan B if you’ve managed to muck things up. Well, get on with it. I’ll go and keep things goi
ng, but you’d better find your speaker and quick.”
Ralph decided that this was not the time to argue or explain. He just had to find out what could have happened and where George Rainton was. He tried Sir George’s cell phone number, but that just gave him voice messaging; not surprising for a global CEO. The campus was deserted as the students were between semesters and supposedly studying for their final exams. Perhaps Rainton was in the college boardroom.
As he ran towards Kenry House he saw one of the caretakers waving to him from the car park. As he got closer he could see a crumpled figure lying on the pathway.
“Found ‘im lying there sir. Tried to get ‘im up but ther’s blood coming out of ‘is mouth. I don’t fink ‘es breavin.”
Ralph’s looked in horror. It was George Rainton. On the ground lay not the tall outward-going man he had lunched with at the Traveller’s Club but a helpless and seriously injured person, or worse.
Within seconds Ralph recovered sufficiently to use his cell phone to call the police and ambulance services. He then told the caretaker to telephone Granger’s secretary,
Margaret and tell her to contact Granger. Left alone waiting for the police he tried to wrestle with the enormity of the tragedy. Was it possible that Rainton had suffered a massive heart attack? Could he have stumbled and fallen against the curbstone? Perhaps the stories about the mafia threat had been true? Then he remembered that George Rainton’s father was less than 200 meters away waiting to hear his son deliver a keynote speech. Ralph was shaken out of his reverie by the sound of a police siren wailing as it sped along the campus driveway. The ambulance was close on its heels.
Inspector Linham and Sergeant Wilson had been following up a local burglary enquiry when they got the emergency call. Linham soon took charge of the scene.
“Good afternoon Professor Chalmers. Do you know who found the injured man?”
“One of the caretakers found him,” Ralph explained. “I happened to be walking across the car park when he called me over. In actual fact I was looking for Sir George Rainton at the time. He was scheduled to give the keynote speech at Kenry House in just a few minutes and I was concerned when he failed to turn up on time.”
“So you know the identity of the victim?” Inspector Linham enquired.
“Yes, it’s Sir George Rainton,” Ralph confirmed. “How bad are his injuries?”
A quick check by the ambulance team had confirmed that Rainton was badly injured and unconscious. Other officers from a police car responding to the call were soon on the scene and cordoning off the area. Just then Granger came running up.
“My god that’s Sir George Rainton. His father Sir James is here, and a hall full of people are waiting to hear him speak.”
“Good afternoon Professor Granger. Yes we had been told by Professor Chalmers who it is. And I’m afraid he will not be speaking to your guests today or at any time soon.”
The Inspector had not intended to be sarcastic or flippant, but the way Granger had reacted to the incident rankled him. And he had never been a fan of academics.
“I’m afraid that we will be asking everyone who is on site today to give us their names and addresses before they leave. We may need to contact them once we know more about the circumstances surrounding the incident. It may have been a simple accident, or he may be the victim of foul play. It’s too early to say, sir. Perhaps my Sergeant and the police constable could go and talk to your guests before they leave the site, Professor Granger? And before you make any announcements, could you take Sir James to your office? I will meet him there in order to tell him what has happened,” said Inspector Linham, aware that he had deliberately avoiding giving Granger an opportunity to try and take charge. Then he turned to Ralph and said, “Professor Chalmers, can you arrange for the caretaker who found the victim to talk to my constable here? We will need his statement.”
Granger was beginning to calm down. ‘It would take some smoothing over, but if it was just a heart attack or some sort of collapse, it would all end up simply being a sad occurrence. ‘Nothing more dramatic than that’, he mused.
The medical examiner and her team arrived as Ralph went to look for the caretaker and Granger headed back to Kenry House to escort Sir James to his office upstairs. Linham waited behind to ask the forensic team look at the site of the incident.
The doctor confirmed that the injury had occurred within the last hour and that it did not appear to result from a heart attack. That tied up with Chalmer’s story about Rainton having walked from the nearby hotel, but two things puzzled Linham. Why had Rainton not gone straight to the luncheon in the staff refectory? And if it was an attempted robbery, why did it appear that nothing had been taken? Another curious thing was a scribbled note in his top jacket pocket that read, ‘BRING MONEYS OR PRICES PAY – NO POLICE DEAL MAKE’. One glance told Linham that this was enough for him to treat it as a possible attempted murder enquiry.
Having made Rainton as comfortable as they, could the ambulance raced off to Kingston Hospital.
The Inspector broke the bad news to Sir William while Wilson spoke to the guests assembled in the conference hall. As they drove back to police headquarters Linham made a mental list of all those whom he wanted to interview the next day. Chalmers was first on his list. Perhaps he could shed some light on anyone Sir George had planned to meet while at the conference, or anything that he may have said that indicated who might want to do him harm.He would also need to speak with Granger’s secretary to find out which of the academic staff had been on site, as well as to the catering manager to find out who from catering was on site at the time.
But Linham was puzzled over the note. It may be that it had no connection to Sir George’s death, but he certainly couldn’t rule it out. The spelling was atrocious, even worse than his own. And he recalled a story he had heard from his friends from the Special Branch in London about some Russian mafia ring. Could this be a Russian mafia revenge attack? Perhaps a warning that went wrong? And where was Rainton’s so called minder? Either he wasn’t very good at his job, or perhaps he had been bribed to stay way? Or could it be that someone was blackmailing Rainton and the note was written in such a way that it would throw suspicion on the Russians? But he needed to see the forensic and medical reports before he could go much further. And he would need to bounce some of his thoughts around with Wilson to see if he had a different take on things. In any event, he had a lot to think about. The only thing he knew for certain was that he and Wilson would be very busy in the coming days.
Chapter 10
With a bottle of Pierre Roget champagne safely stowed beside him, Ralph eased the Jaguar onto the Esher by-pass. He was on time for a 7.30 supper date with Peter and Marcia. The car responded as he accelerated to way over the official speed limit. Something inside him wanted to go on a wild daredevil ride that night. He had often found that driving fast was a way of releasing any feelings of tension and stress. But tonight an evening in the company of his friends, a good meal, and a glass or two of champagne would be a perfect antidote to a crazy week. He was soon relaxing in front of a crackling log fire armed with a pre-dinner gin and tonic. Marcia was busy putting the finishing touches to a roast duck. The two friends relaxed as the smells from the kitchen mixed with those of the oak logs burning in the grate.
“Well Peter, you missed all the action by being away this week.”
Ralph had hardly started to update his friend on what had happened at the college before he was interrupted.
“Crikey, I must have been the last one to see Rainton before he was attacked,” Peter exclaimed as he called out to Marcia to join them.
“You’ve got to hear this Marcia. Seems that when I was in college collecting my music scores for our trip, you remember I told you about seeing this chap who had been a student years ago? He was involved in that cheating incident that Jack Royston resigned over. Well Ralph just told me that the poor bugger was attacked not minutes after I spoke to him. It seems the Russian mafia might h
ave been after his hide.”
Marcia sat down on the arm of the sofa and looked at Peter.
“This isn’t some sort of weird joke or wind up that you two have cooked up? I might be just a simple cook, but I’m not gaga just yet.” She laughed. Ralph cut in.
“No it’s no joke. I wish it were. Sir George Rainton was the guest speaker at the conference and he was attacked in the car park outside Kenry House. The police are questioning everybody who was on the Gypsy Hill site at the time. I spent 2 hours being grilled by Inspector Linham only yesterday. Peter will have to get on to Linham first thing and they will probably want him to go down to the station to make a statement about seeing Rainton that morning.” Peter not easily interrupted when in full flow continued his story.
“I’ll certainly do that. This is what happened. I was in my office collecting the scripts that I needed to take to the Wells Cathedral School. You know I’m the external examiner for the boys studying music at the Cathedral, so I was preparing which music to take down there with me. We stay at the White Hart hotel every year. It’s a sort of annual trip for us both. Makes a welcome break from dealing with all those reluctant students at the college”.
“Do get to the point, Peter,” Marcia said with a note of frustration in her voice. “You’re always going off on a tangent these days. People will start to think you’re the one going gaga.”
“Okay. Well I looked out the window and there was this chap walking across the lawn. He was carrying a sports bag or it might have been a satchel of some sort. The students never go that way. They always cut across the other carpark. He looked a smart chap, what with the pin striped suit and all, so I opened the window and asked him if he was lost. People do get lost on that campus what with all the new development that’s been going on over the past few years.”
“Peter. Stick to the story, dear,” said Marcia with a sigh.
“Anyhow, he said that he was looking for a short cut through the old walled rose garden. I told him it had been built over when the new campus road was constructed. Funny. Now I think about it, he didn’t introduce himself or mention anything about going to the conference. He seemed a bit agitated but I put that down to his getting lost and being late to wherever he was headed. He said that he wanted to get to Kenry House. Well I led him up that steep hill and past the big old magnolia tree. You know Ralph, just by that seat where you and Katie used to have your little chats in the summer. Plenty of shade and quite secluded,” he chuckled.
Rough Justice In Academia (The Ralph Chalmers Mysteries Book 2) Page 8