The Inspector Ravenscroft Mysteries Box Set

by Kerry Tombs

  ‘Pure fantasy!’ protested Chilton. ‘This is all nonsense!’

  ‘When you had safely secured your brother in the asylum, you told everyone that Peter had died. You and Old John bought back the weighted coffin, making everyone believe that Peter had died quite suddenly of a fever in London — and so you buried him in the churchyard. Then you had to get rid of Old John, as he knew too much. Whilst John was still a hired hand here there remained the possibility that one day he would talk too much and tell others what had really happened, and so you dismissed him from your employment. Old John was half mad anyway, and if he did tell anyone the truth, it would be doubtful that he would have been believed. People would have just dismissed such ramblings, believing that an embittered man was merely trying to get his own back. And then of course you were free to inherit the family salt business, when your father died shortly afterwards, and you were also free to marry the woman who had been betrothed to your brother.’

  ‘This is all utter nonsense — pure fabrication!’ scoffed Chilton. ‘Take it to a court of law, sir, and see how far you will get. I will see that you are ruined, Ravenscroft, if you insist on continuing with this nonsense.’

  ‘Is it really all fabrication as you claim, Sir Charles? Here is the exhumation order,’ said Ravenscroft taking out a sheet of paper from his coat pocket and holding it aloft. ‘Shall we now see who is telling the truth?’

  ‘For goodness sake, Sir Charles, tell them the truth—’ began the lawyer.

  ‘Be quiet, Brockway!’ threatened Chilton. ‘Have a care sir, if you value your position.’

  ‘Ah Sir Charles, this is the man you sent to the asylum every year, to pay the authorities enough money to ensure your brother would never be released!’ exclaimed Ravenscroft waving the paper. ‘And now you have sent your poor wife to the asylum. I wonder why? Has she suddenly learnt the truth after all these years, that you falsely imprisoned the man she once loved? Is that why she has been taken to that awful place, where she can speak to no one and where she will be ignored for the remainder of her days?’

  ‘Get out of my house, Ravenscroft, before I call the servants!’ said an indignant Sir Charles stubbing out his cigar and rising from his chair.

  ‘For goodness sake, Charles, tell them the truth,’ called out Brockway. ‘We cannot go on like this.’

  ‘Have a care, sir, I repeat again, have a care, if you wish to remain in my employ,’ sneered Chilton turning on the lawyer.

  ‘I will not be silenced anymore. It is all true, Inspector, every word of it. Sir Charles imprisoned his brother in the asylum, and I was sent there every year to make the payments to see that he did not leave. And now he has sought to imprison poor Lady Chilton. I cannot remain silent. I will not stand idly by why you continue with these outrages,’ said Brockway confronting his employer.

  ‘You will confirm all this, Mr Brockway, in a court of law?’ asked Ravenscroft realizing that the advantage was now his.

  ‘You have my assurance of that, sir,’ said Brockway.

  ‘Damn you sir, damn you!’ muttered Chilton as he sank back into his chair.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Brockway. I appreciate that you were an unwilling partner in this business,’ said Ravenscroft.

  ‘Forgive me, Inspector, but none of this helps us to find Mildred,’ said Miss Petterson.

  ‘On the contrary it helps us a great deal, for once I had learnt that Martin and Peter Chilton were one and the same, I knew where Miss Chilton could be found.’

  ‘How? I don’t understand,’ said Russell.

  ‘It was Mrs Greenway who provided me with that answer.’

  ‘Mrs Greenway, sir?’ asked a startled Jukes.

  ‘Yes, Mrs Greenway, the cook. That morning when we met in the garden, she told me that Master Peter had been close to his old nanny, Nanny Jones, who had retired many years ago to her cottage in the nearby village of Elmbridge. When Peter escaped from the asylum he had to go somewhere. He could not return here, for he knew that he would be taken back to the asylum, but he remembered his old nurse, Nanny Jones, and made his way there. No doubt the old woman was delighted to see him. Peter then learnt that his brother had married the woman he loved, and had taken over the business, and so he decided that he would seek his revenge by abducting Mildred. He may also have believed that Mildred was perhaps his own daughter. He came back to Dodderhill, and watched and waited until the time was ripe. He discovered the liaison between you, Miss Petterson, and you Mr Russell, and your clandestine meetings in the church, and introduced himself to Mildred, gradually establishing a relationship with the girl, and no doubt telling her that he was really her father, and swearing her to secrecy.

  ‘They arranged to go away together and so they met again on that fateful afternoon when they left the churchyard together. On the way to the railway station, Peter dropped Mildred’s handkerchief in the canal, to make us believe that they had left the town on one of the canal boats. He purchased two single tickets for Birmingham, hoping that if their footsteps were later retraced by others, this too would throw pursuers off the scent. They then alighted at the next station — at Bromsgrove — which is but a short distance away from Nanny Jones’s cottage at Elmbridge,’ said Ravenscroft pausing for his words to take effect.

  ‘How the devil do you know all this?’ asked a crestfallen Sir Charles.

  ‘Because before I came here this morning, I sought out Nanny Jones’s cottage in Elmbridge. Whilst there I was able to complete my enquiries. Crabb, if you will please,’ said Ravenscroft turning towards his constable.

  All eyes turned in Crabb’s direction, as he opened the door.

  ‘Hello, Charles,’ said a tall, gaunt, figure stepping into the room.

  ‘Master Peter. You are alive!’ exclaimed Jukes.

  ‘Very much so. How are you, Jukes?’ asked the man coming forwards and shaking the old butler’s hand.

  ‘Well sir, and all the better for seeing you, sir.’

  ‘Charles, you have done me a grave injustice,’ said Peter turning in his brother’s direction, who in turn had covered his ashen face with his hands. ‘A grave injustice indeed.’

  ‘I . . . only acted . . .’ muttered Chilton.

  ‘Can you imagine what it was like, Charles? All those years, living from day to day, in a small room, seeing no one from the outside world, trying to explain to the authorities there that a gross injustice had been committed, knowing that the woman you loved had been stolen from you — and all that time waiting for that one day when someone would return to tell the truth, or I would be offered one opportunity to escape from that living hell. No, you have no comprehension of the wrong you have done me,’ said an embittered Peter Chilton.

  ‘But what about Old John? Who killed Old John?’ asked Russell.

  ‘John had seen Peter and Mildred in the churchyard that day. That was why he was afraid of the tomb, when Crabb and I encountered him there. “He’s come back for me,” the poor, deranged man cried, forgetting that his former master was not dead, and thinking that you, Master Peter, had risen from the dead and come back to claim him,’ said Ravenscroft knowing that he was now arriving at the conclusion of his declaration.

  ‘So you killed Old John,’ said Sir Charles looking up at his brother.

  ‘No, Sir Charles,’ answered Ravenscroft, ‘your brother was completely unaware that he had been seen by John when he and Mildred left the churchyard together; therefore had no reason to return there later to kill the old man.’

  ‘Then who did?’ asked Russell.

  ‘Someone who was also there that day and had witnessed Old John crying out before the family tomb; someone who guessed that a familiar figure from the past had returned; someone who then knew that he had to silence the old man as soon as possible, before he told everything to me and my colleague; someone who was anxious to conceal the past as much as possible — and that someone was you, Sir Charles,’ said Ravenscroft emphatically turning to face the master of Hill Court.

  �
�Confound you, Ravenscroft!’ snarled Chilton.

  ‘Sir Charles Chilton, I am arresting you for the forcible abduction and imprisonment of your brother Peter Chilton, and for the murder of Old John. Crabb, put the cuffs on him,’ instructed Ravenscroft.

  Crabb marched over to Sir Charles and placed the bracelets around his wrists.

  ‘But where is Mildred?’ asked Miss Petterson.

  ‘Miss Chilton is alive and well. You will find her with Mrs Greenway in the kitchens,’ said Ravenscroft walking over to the doors and opening them to reveal two uniformed officers standing in the hallway. ‘Men, if you will accompany Sir Charles and Constable Crabb to the station, I will join you presently.’

  ‘Peter . . . I am sorry . . . I meant no harm . . . can you forgive me,’ muttered Sir Charles as he was about to be escorted from the room.

  ‘I want nothing from you, brother, except one thing,’ said Peter.

  ‘What is that? Name it, and it will be yours,’ replied Sir Charles looking anxiously into his brother’s eyes.

  ‘Sign this letter, authorizing the release of your wife Lady Mary,’ said Peter taking a sheet of paper from the top pocket of his coat.

  ‘Crabb, take Sir Charles to his desk, and remove the cuffs, so he is able to sign the authority,’ instructed Ravenscroft.

  Crabb escorted his prisoner back to his desk. A crestfallen Sir Charles signed the paper and handed it to his brother. Crabb locked the cuffs once more around the salt baron’s wrists.

  ‘Well, Inspector, I cannot thank you enough. I suppose you will now be charging me with Mildred’s abduction,’ said Peter Chilton when the officers and their prisoner had left the room.

  ‘Oh, I think that will not be necessary, sir. You have been through a great deal these past ten years. I think we all conclude that the girl went with you of her own free will,’ replied Ravenscroft.

  ‘Thank you, Inspector,’ said Peter shaking the extended hand.

  ‘Now, Miss Petterson, your charge awaits. I am sure she will be delighted to see you,’ said Ravenscroft.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ replied the governess.

  ‘What will you do now, Inspector?’ asked Russell.

  ‘Mr Chilton, if you would hand me the paper, and Mr Brockway if you would care to accompany my constable and me back to the asylum at Powick. There is a lady there, who has also been the victim of a grave injustice, who needs to be released, and to be reunited with her daughter,’ smiled Ravenscroft.

  EPILOGUE

  ‘Miss Corbett must have been delighted when you returned her baby to her?’ said Ravenscroft, as he and his wife sat together later that evening.

  ‘Oh you should have seen the joy on her face, Samuel, as she held her Lily again in her arms,’ smiled Lucy.

  ‘Let us hope that she is not compelled to sell her baby to the next old woman who comes along, offering to raise the child as her own for a few guineas.’

  ‘I am sure she will not. I think the farmer at Wellington Heath has agreed that the child can stay, and I have told Miss Corbett that if she ever finds herself in difficulties in the future she is to have no hesitation in calling upon us for our assistance. I hope you do not mind?’

  ‘Of course not, my dear,’ said Samuel taking his wife’s hand. ‘I would have expected nothing less from your generous nature. What about the boy? I think you said his name was Harold.’

  ‘He has been taken to the workhouse in Kidderminster. It seems that his mother was compelled to hand him over to that terrible woman some months ago before sailing for a new life in Australia. It will be difficult to trace her.’

  ‘The poor child, whatever will become of him? The workhouse is no place for a destitute boy of his age.’

  ‘Mr Shorter has told me that it his intention to apply to the workhouse authorities to have the boy apprenticed at his newspaper office.’

  ‘That is good news indeed. It is pleasing to know that some good will come out of all this. It is a pity however that that evil Drew woman managed to elude the authorities. I will contact all the local stations and ask them to keep a sharp look out for her. She cannot hide from us forever,’ said Ravenscroft.

  ‘I wonder what makes such a woman take on unwanted children in such a fashion?’

  ‘Greed, my dear. I have heard of one or two similar stories over the years, where poor unfortunate women have given their children away for a few coins, believing that their offspring will be given a new life full of opportunities. In fact the opposite is often the case. The baby farmers — for that is I believe what these horrible wretches are called — are only interested in receiving the money. They have no interest in the children who are placed in their care. The poor unfortunate child is often never heard of again, and one can only suppose that he or she is either left to die through neglect and want, or is killed in a brutal fashion by their supposed benefactors.’

  ‘It is fortunate that the horrible woman had not killed poor Lily before we were able to rescue her.’

  ‘I can only consider that her interest in keeping the child alive for so long, was because she hoped she might be able to sell her on to some childless couple. When she knew that we were closing in on her, she then sought to rid herself of the child in the canal.’

  ‘It is a horrible business,’ said Lucy recoiling.

  ‘I have no doubt that the evil Huddlestone/Drew woman will be arrested soon, and that she will then be made to account for her crimes before a judge and jury.’

  ‘Let us hope so. Women like that are a wicked presence in society. How clever you were to find Mildred Chilton.’

  ‘She seems none the worse for her ordeal. Nanny Jones and Peter took good care of her. I think she rather enjoyed the experience.’

  ‘And thank goodness that you were able to rescue poor Lady Chilton from that horrible asylum place.’

  ‘Her wretched husband had treated her in such a brutal manner, and had enlisted the assistance of Doctor Staples in having her put away inside the asylum. The man was like those characters you have been reading about in Mr Stevenson’s novel; outwardly Sir Charles acted the part of a professional businessman and landed gentleman, whilst in truth, he was a ruthless villain who would stop at nothing to obtain what he wanted.’

  ‘It is Peter Chilton whom I feel sorry for. It must have been awful to be incarcerated in that place for ten years, against his will, with no one there to believe in his protestations,’ said Lucy. ‘I suppose when he finally escaped he sought revenge by taking Mildred away from her parents. Do you think he believed that Mildred was his own daughter?’

  ‘I think that was probably the case. Anyway, no harm has come to the girl and she is now reunited with her mother.’

  ‘What I don’t understand is if Sir Charles wanted to get rid of his brother all those years ago, why did he not kill him and put him in the coffin, rather than imprisoning him in the asylum?’ asked Lucy.

  ‘I suppose he could not bring himself to commit such a final atrocity. He was family after all. He must have had some feeling for his brother.’

  ‘What will happen to him now?’

  ‘He will stand trial for the murder of Old John, and for the false imprisonment of his brother.’

  ‘So Peter will come into his inheritance again?’ asked Lucy.

  ‘Indeed.’

  ‘You were very clever in realizing where Peter and Mildred were.’

  ‘It was Mrs Greenway, the cook, who provided the solution, although I did not see it as such at the time. It was only when I remembered Old John’s words in the churchyard, that it all made sense. For a while I had thought that your Mrs Drew had taken Mildred, but of course there was no connection between the two cases.’

  ‘Samuel, now that both our cases of missing children have come to a satisfactory conclusion, perhaps you might find the time to go and visit that house in Malvern that I was telling you about,’ said Lucy smiling at her husband.

  ‘Of course my dear. You are quite right. This place is far too small f
or us all. We shall go shortly. However, there is just one more thing that I need to do tomorrow . . .’

  * * *

  Ravenscroft stood at the side of the open grave in Dodderhill as the two men lowered the plain simple coffin into the ground. He brushed the rain from his wind-swept face and remembered the days of his own lonely childhood, as the clergyman spoke the last words of the ceremony.

  ‘Would you care to say a few words, Mr Ravenscroft?’

  Ravenscroft paused for a moment, wondering whether he should say some words of final farewell, but then realizing that he was unable to do so, he merely shook his head from side to side.

  The gravedigger reached for his spade.

  ‘One moment,’ interjected Ravenscroft reaching into the pocket of his overcoat and taking out a small packet. ‘I should like this . . .’

  The words seemed to die before he had spoken them.

  ‘Of course,’ said the clergyman. ‘You appear to be the only person here today to say farewell to her, Mr Ravenscroft?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘She must have been alone in the world?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘No relatives other than yourself?’

  ‘No. I am — I never knew her.’

  ‘I see. May I ask—’ began the clergyman.

  ‘I did not want her to be alone,’ replied Ravenscroft kneeling at the side of the grave and throwing the packet onto the top of the coffin. ‘She did not deserve to die alone in that house in Worcester. She did not deserve that. I did not want her to be alone.’

  ‘Very noble and Christian of you, sir, if I may say so. Very noble indeed.’