The Inspector Ravenscroft Mysteries Box Set

by Kerry Tombs

  ‘Q stands for the queen,’ interrupted Ravenscroft, fascinated by the learned man’s conclusions.

  ‘So, if the queen moves two squares forward, from the edge of the board, then we arrive at the letter M. Now if we take the next group Q1 and this time only move the queen forward one square from the edge of the board, which in fact is its starting position, we reveal the letter E. The next group poses a problem, CR4. Ah yes, I have it! C stands for the castle, and because there are two of them, the letter R suggests the castle to the right. Now move four squares to the front, departing from the edge of the board, and we arrive at the letter Y. Likewise, BR3 relates to the bishop on the right side, which when we move it forward gives us the letter S. Q1 gives us the letter E again, and CR4 will give us the letter Y. Now you try to decipher the second word, for your opponent, black, remembering to start from the right. I believe that the letter K represents the knight and that the “+ 3” probably stands for the king as he is the most important piece on the board.’

  Intrigued, Ravenscroft worked through the second group of letters, revealing the word HAMPTON after a few minutes work. ‘Meysey Hampton — what on earth does that mean?’ he asked, finally laying down his pen and looking intently at the two words before him.

  ‘It’s a place, my dear Ravenscroft. A place. Wait here!’ instructed the professor, rushing quickly out of the room, leaving a bewildered Ravenscroft behind him. The learned antiquary may well have deciphered the inscription on the side of the old crusader’s tomb, revealing the two new words, thought Ravenscroft, but the whole thing did not appear to be any clearer to him.

  ‘Ah, here we are,’ said Salt, returning triumphantly to the room bearing a large thick volume which he flung down on the table, before intently running his finger along several lines of script on the open page. ‘Here we have it! Meysey Hampton, ancient Gloucestershire parish, north of Cirencester, close to the market town of Fairford. Ah, ah! Now everything is revealed. The church of Meysey Hampton is said to have been built by the Templar Knights! It is a Templar church and that is why the inscription was placed on the side of Sir Roger’s tomb.’

  ‘But why? Why would Sir Roger have left instructions for such an elaborate code to be written on the side of his tomb?’ asked Ravenscroft.

  ‘Sir Roger knew that only another Templar would have been able to work out that the numbers and letters when placed on a chessboard, would reveal the name of Meysey Hampton. He was clearly sending a message that his fellow knights should go to the church in that village.’

  ‘I see, so if there was any treasure to be found, it would be at this Meysey Hampton?’

  ‘That is still a matter of conjecture. We do not know that Sir Roger bought anything of value back with him from his travels. He might have simply been referring to another church in Gloucestershire, with which he had some association, that is all,’ replied Salt, smiling at Ravenscroft.

  ‘So what do you think I should do now?’ asked Ravenscroft, feeling as though he was addressing a benevolent uncle.

  ‘That is for you to decide, I have merely unravelled the code.’

  ‘For which I shall be forever in your debt, Professor Salt.’

  ‘Say no more, my boy. I relish the challenge! But now if you will excuse me, I must return to my studies. I have to give a lecture in hall tomorrow night on manorial land management as seen through medieval Latin manuscripts,’ said the professor turning away.

  ‘There is just one more thing before I go. Do you think there are any living descendants of Sir Roger, and if so, how would we go about locating them?’

  ‘With difficulty. Leave me your name and address on the way out and I will see if I can find out anything for you,’ said Professor Salt, leaning over his ancient manuscript and already lost in another world.

  Ravenscroft tore out a page from his notebook and, after writing his details, placed it on the table and made his way quietly from the room. The antiquary did not look up as he closed the door behind him.

  As he walked through the town towards the railway station, Ravenscroft found himself turning over the events of the last half-hour, seeing again the elaborate code, the chessboard with its letters of the alphabet placed in each square and finally the revealing of the words ‘Meysey Hampton’. Had the Templar Knight returned from his travels having appropriated something of great value? Had he then hidden that treasure somewhere in the remote Gloucestershire village of Meysey Hampton, instructing the stonemason who carved his tomb to engrave the mysterious letters on the side of the edifice, making the code so difficult that it would only make sense to another member of the same knightly order? Or did the revealed letters merely inform those fortunate enough to decipher them that Sir Roger had some connection with the Templar church in that village? Perhaps he should visit the church for himself and see if Sir Roger had left any further clues there, which might eventually lead to the discovery of the lost treasure. All this deciphering of medieval codes was all very well, Ravenscroft told himself, but although he was now in possession of facts that had not been discernible to others through the centuries, that gaining of knowledge seemed to be of little assistance to him in his quest to discover the truth behind the two murders he was intent on solving.

  ‘Here, look out, mister, where you are going,’ said a tall young man colliding with Ravenscroft.

  ‘I am so sorry. My thoughts were elsewhere. Forgive me, my dear sir.’

  ‘Should be more careful at your age,’ grumbled the youth, picking up his papers which had fallen to the ground. ‘I say haven’t I seen you somewhere before?’

  ‘You were kind enough to give me directions to Professor Mathias Salt’s rooms.’

  ‘Ay yes. I trust you were able to find the learned professor?’

  ‘Yes, thank you. How was your lecture?’

  ‘Disappointing to say the least. I should have foreseen that such would be the case. Should have remained in my rooms and read the book instead. But there you are. One lives in expectation and then one is constantly let down. That’s life I suppose.’

  ‘Indeed,’ acknowledged Ravenscroft, smiling at the young man’s philosophy.

  ‘The trouble with these Oxford professors is that they think they are the only ones to offer a solution. They simply cannot comprehend that there are others out there who might be just as qualified to express a different point of view. Anyway, must go. No time to spare. Everything to be experienced. Nice meeting you.’

  ‘And you, my good sir,’ said Ravenscroft giving a brief smile, before taking his departure and continuing on his journey to the station.

  Taking out his pocket watch and examining the noticeboard he was relieved to discover that a train was imminent.

  Ravenscroft stood on the platform of the station, watching the billowing smoke of the approaching train, his mind still occupied by the events of the previous hour.

  ‘The trouble with these Oxford professors is that they think they are the only ones to offer a solution’ — that is what the young man had said. Then it suddenly occurred to Ravenscroft that perhaps after all there had been others who might have worked out what the strange letters and numbers had stood for on the side of the tomb. Professor Salt may not have been the only one. Perhaps Hollinger sitting in the snug of the Hop Pole that night had also been able to decipher the inscription. If that had been the case, then perhaps he had also written down the answer — and if that had been so, then that would explain why the learned doctor had been killed. Furthermore, if that is what transpired, then it was more than likely that his murderer was also now in possession of the solution.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  TEWKESBURY

  ‘We have him, sir!’ exclaimed Crabb eagerly, as Ravenscroft alighted from the train.

  ‘Anstruther?’

  ‘At Hereford. Apparently he fell whilst endeavouring to change horses at one of the local inns. A doctor was called, and one of our men in the town thought that the stranger there might fit the description we had sent
out earlier in the day.’

  ‘Is he badly injured?’

  ‘Broken arm by all accounts. I have instructed the men to bring him back to the station in Tewkesbury. He should be there by now, sir.’

  ‘Good news, Tom. Well done.’

  ‘How did you get on in Oxford?’

  ‘Very well indeed. Professor Salt was able to decipher the inscription on Sir Roger’s tomb, but more of that later. I am anxious to question the major. Let us see whether we can loosen his tongue. It is to be hoped that this mystery is now drawing to its conclusion. Lead on, Tom.’

  * * *

  ‘What the blazes is all this about, Ravenscroft?’ said Anstruther, rising from the chair as the two policemen entered the room.

  ‘I would have thought that was obvious, Major,’ replied Ravenscroft, taking his seat behind the table and observing that his suspect had one of his arms in a sling and that his forehead was marked and bruised in several places.

  ‘Not to me it’s not,’ snapped Anstruther. ‘A fellow should be allowed to go where he wants to without being arrested by your heavy-handed peelers and forcibly bought back here against his will.’

  ‘I am sorry for your injury. A horse, I believe. I trust it is not too painful,’ said Ravenscroft forcing a brief smile.

  ‘I’ve known worse.’

  ‘I can arrange for another medical man to take a look at your arm, should you so wish.’

  ‘Look here Ravenscroft, why the deuce have you bought me back here?’

  ‘You are not aware that Dr Hollinger has been killed in a brutal fashion?’ said Ravenscroft, staring straight at his suspect so that he could observe his reaction.

  ‘What? Hollinger? Hollinger dead, you say?’

  ‘Stabbed three times in the chest. Not a pleasant sight. But you would know that, of course.’

  ‘What the blazes do you mean by that!’ exclaimed Anstruther.

  ‘Doctor Hollinger was murdered shortly after he retired last night. At twelve o’clock you were seen leaving the inn. I have two witnesses who can confirm your movements. Your bloodstained shirt and trousers were found in your room. How do you explain it?’

  ‘Now look here, Ravenscroft, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I know nothing about the doctor’s death until you mentioned it now. As for my clothes, I took them all with me.’

  ‘Your knife was found in the dead man’s room.’

  ‘I don’t possess a knife,’ protested Anstruther.

  ‘I thought all army men carried a knife.’

  ‘Well, you think wrong. I repeat, I do not possess any kind of knife.’

  ‘So you deny having killed Dr Hollinger?’

  ‘That’s what I just said,’ replied Anstruther, raising his voice.

  ‘Then what were you doing leaving the Hop Pole at such a late hour?’ asked Ravenscroft leaning back in his chair.

  ‘Had enough of all this nonsense. I’ve got my regiment to return to. I couldn’t afford to brook any further delay. Damn it, man, I’ve been here long enough!’

  ‘I thought your regiment was based in London. You were arrested in Hereford after your fall. It is rather a long way round to get to the capital, is it not?’

  ‘Had urgent business there,’ mumbled Anstruther turning away.

  ‘What business?’

  ‘Private business. None of your concern.’

  ‘I think this is all nonsense, Major Anstruther. If you were in such a great hurry to rejoin your regiment, as you claim, then surely you would have gone straight to London. I think you deliberately went in a westerly direction towards Hereford, rather than to the east, as you believed that we would be looking for you on the road to London. Is that not so?’

  ‘I’ve told you, I had urgent business there,’ retorted Anstruther growing red in the face as he stared at his inquisitor.

  ‘Why did you leave at such a late hour? Surely you could have waited until the morning?’ observed Ravenscroft, hoping that if he continued with his questioning, his suspect might eventually be forced to come forward with the truth.

  ‘I was anxious to get on. I thought if I could get to Hereford by the morning I could conduct my business there, and then catch the London train later in the day.’

  ‘You could have started earlier in the morning. Travelling by night along unknown country lanes can be quite difficult and dangerous, as I am sure you are aware.’

  ‘We military men are used to that kind of thing. I knew that if I waited until the morning you would have prevented me from leaving. Damn it, Ravenscroft, you know as well as I do that it is important to do one’s duty. Queen and country and all that. You’re a man of the world; you understand these things. Wasted enough time around here over the past few days,’ replied Anstruther, in a softer tone, hoping to placate his questioner.

  ‘I think you killed Hollinger in his room, shortly after you both retired for the evening, you discarded your bloodstained clothes, and that you then left in a great hurry before the body was discovered.’

  ‘That’s not true. I’ve told you I took all my clothes with me. You can check if you so wish,’ interrupted Anstruther.

  ‘I don’t think you are in the Guards at all. All this nonsense about doing one’s duty,’ continued Ravenscroft. ‘In fact, I am damn certain that you have never been in the army in your life.’

  ‘I’ve told you before, the directories are at fault. I can’t help it if they have missed my name off the Army List.’

  ‘My constable here sent a telegram to the Army Office yesterday. They have no record of a Major Anstruther serving in the army at present. It just won’t do. Why don’t you stop all this pretence about being in the Guards, and tell us the truth?’ said Ravenscroft raising his voice.

  ‘All right! All right, man! For goodness sake, stop going on,’ retorted Anstruther slumping back in his chair.

  ‘All we require is the truth. If you are not Major Anstruther then who are you?’ said Ravenscroft pressing home his advantage.

  ‘My name is John Anstruther. You are correct in your assumption. I have never been in the army. In fact I am an actor by profession.’

  ‘An actor!’ exclaimed Crabb looking up from his notebook.

  ‘There’s nothing dishonourable in being an actor,’ replied Anstruther speaking in what Ravenscroft noticed to be a much quieter and relaxed tone of voice.

  ‘Why did you pretend to be a major in the Guards?’ asked Ravenscroft, anxious to know more.

  ‘You know what people think of actors. I just thought I would play the part of an army major so that the others would look up to me. Be on more of an equal footing, if you see what I mean.’

  ‘And the rest of it?’

  ‘Oh, that’s all true. The stranger, Grantly, that dead fellow in the tomb, came to my dressing-room after one of my appearances in London. Said I was a descendant of Sir Roger, and that I should agree to meet all the others outside the abbey, where we would all find where Sir Roger was buried and find a golden goblet he had bought back from the Holy Land.’

  ‘Ah yes, the golden goblet,’ smiled Ravenscroft.

  ‘It was all nonsense, of course. I did not believe a word he said. The fellow clearly had a heightened imagination.’

  ‘If you believed that to be the case, Mr Anstruther, why did you then decide to keep the appointment? Surely a man as busily engaged as yourself on theatrical performances would not have been free to spare the time on such a wanton errand?’ asked Ravenscroft, leaning back in his chair once more.

  ‘You’re right, of course, Inspector. The truth of the matter is that he paid me.’

  ‘Paid you, sir?’ asked Crabb.

  ‘Yes, he paid me ten guineas if I would leave off my run of the play for a few nights, and join the others in the abbey. That’s why I was so anxious to get back to London. I have another performance tomorrow night,’ said Anstruther, adopting a more flamboyant mode of speech.

  ‘Oh, and what play would that be?’ enquired Ravenscroft.
>
  ‘Richard III at the Lyceum. I am playing Buckingham to the great Henry Irving’s king. You can check there if you like.’

  ‘We certainly will. Make a note, Crabb. All this is very well, Anstruther, but it changes nothing. What exactly were you and Hollinger talking about in the snug of the Hop Pole before you retired for the evening?’

  ‘I can’t remember.’

  ‘I suggest that you try and remember. It might be important in your defence.’

  ‘We just talked over the events of the last few days. Wondered when we would be free to leave. That sought of thing.’

  ‘Did Dr Hollinger mention to you about the inscription?’ asked Ravenscroft leaning forward again.

  ‘What inscription?’

  ‘Come now, Anstruther, you know perfectly well what I mean. The inscription on the side of Sir Roger’s tomb.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ replied the actor, a puzzled expression on his face.

  ‘Oh I think you do. I think Hollinger told you that he had translated the inscription — and that is why you killed him, so that no one else would know where the treasure was hidden.’

  ‘Look, this is all nonsense. I don’t know what the blazes you are talking about. I had no reason to kill Hollinger.’

  ‘And the bloodstained shirt and trousers?’

  ‘I’ve told you, I took all my clothes with me.’

  ‘And what exactly were you doing in Hereford?’

  ‘I was visiting the theatre there. There may be a chance to play there sometime in the future. Look, now I have answered all your questions, surely you can see that all of this has been some kind of dreadful mistake. If you let me leave and return to London, I’ll say no more about the rough way your officers have treated me,’ said Anstruther, beginning to rise from his chair.