Chapter 14
Nothing seemed to have changed when Ralph got back to the college. In a strange way he found it comforting that life here followed the same routine. Students were still clamoring to see him either to get an extension on an assignment deadline, or to argue for a better grade in ones that they had already submitted. Walking along the corridor to his first lecture, Ralph was confronted by a belligerent looking Jack Welsh.
“Professor Chalmers, have you seen Doctor Stocker since you got back from France? I’ve some messages for him that is sort of urgent and personal.”
Ralph noticed that Welsh seemed to have recovered well from the assault he had received and from spending two days in a cold wet cellar.
“Sorry Jack. I know that he went on from the conference to visit some friends, but I expect that he will be back later this week. Why don’t you check with Granger’s secretary, Margaret? She has all the staff schedules and time-tables.”
Jack Welsh seemed more ill at ease than usual.
”Well you see Professor Chalmers, I don’t want it to go any further than yourself, but I’m afraid Doctor Stocker ‘as got in a bit of trouble wiv some bookmakers at the local race track over at Sandown, and they’re a rough lot. If ‘e doesn’t know about it ‘e might walk straight back ‘ere into a load of trouble. Those blokes can be pretty evil.”
Ralph knew about Stocker’s gambling debts, so this was no surprise.
“Well you did the right thing in telling me Jack. I’ll send him a text and pass on your concerns.”
Later that afternoon Ralph sent a text to Jim Stocker and was surprised to get a message back almost immediately. It seemed that he had been right when he said that he had discovered the winning formula. The text told Ralph that he had broken the bank and cleaned up to the tune of nearly half a million pounds. He said that he had wired a cheque to his wife’s bank account in Florida for $600,000 and had cleared his accounts with the bookmakers in England and it had left him with enough to buy a good front seat for the upcoming Monte Carlo rally that weekend.
Ralph couldn’t help feeling vindicated in having had some faith in Stocker when everyone else was writing him off as a loser. At last it seemed that his luck had changed and he had shown that, given the opportunity he could do the right thing. He went down the corridor to tell Jack Welsh the good news and was surprised at the reaction he got.
“’Ow could he have got ‘is ‘ands on enough money to make that sort of winnings? I fought ‘e was on ‘is uppers?”
Ralph explained about the inheritance and noticed that Welsh just gave a wry smile and shrugged his shoulders.
”Well thanks for letting me know, sir. I’ll be interested to see what Doctor Stocker ‘as to say when ‘e gets back. Not that I don’t wish ‘im good luck.”
The following week Ralph was just going to lunch when Margaret Raynor came running down the corridor towards him.
“Professor. Chalmers, we have just got a message from the French police about Doctor Stocker. It seems that he has been involved in an accident in Monte Carlo. They said that he must have tripped and fallen in front of one of the racing cars during the warm up to the big race and that he is badly injured. The University has made arrangements to medi-vac him home as soon as he is well enough to travel.”
Ralph couldn’t believe it. Only a short while ago Stocker had been on a high. Everything seemed to be going his way, and now this news that he was seriously injured. But Margaret had more worrying news.
“The police are treating it as something more serious than just a simple accident. When they went to his hotel they found that all his belongings had been thrown around the room and his suitcases ripped to pieces.”
To Ralph it sounded like a repeat of what had happened to Stocker in Peronne. He realized that it could not have been the Sandown mob trying to recover their gambling dues that Stocker had been so worried about because they had been paid off. The only other explanation that Ralph could think of was that it was a chance burglary, or that someone had seen Stocker win at the casino and had followed him to his hotel. Whatever the explanation, it seemed as though Jim Stocker was still being dogged with bad luck; or something more sinister.
Ralph chanced to meet David who was moving between lectures and told him about Stocker. David was, as usual, genuinely sympathetic.
“Poor guy. He seems to be fated in some way. But I can see how someone could accidently fall in front of a racing car at the track. Those things are not well screened off from the spectators like they should be. Or they probably realize it wouldn’t appeal to the public so much if they didn’t feel a bit of the danger themselves. But no one ever thinks that something like this can happen to themselves. Mary and I went there a few years ago and it was fantastic. We were amazed at the speed those formula one cars go around the tight corners in the streets of Monaco. There is one point where they go through a tunnel and have to negotiate a chicane as they come out into the daylight. Sorry, Ralph, here I am talking about myself and poor Jim is lying there seriously injured. Have you told Peter and Katie the news yet? I’m sure they’ll be distressed to hear about it.”
Ralph had been so absorbed in his thoughts about Jane, and getting back into his routine at the University, that he hadn’t even thought about Peter or Katie. And now that David mentioned them, it occurred to him that he hadn’t seen either one of them since he got back. He wondered if they were even home from France yet.
***
It was about a week later that Stocker arrived back in England by air ambulance. The college was used to using the services of the medi-vac team. Almost every year they had a spate of accidents with staff either forgetting they were no longer 21 years old and going skiing while at a conference, or simply tripping on a paving stone in some far flung capital while doing some exchange teaching. But fortunately this was the first really serious accident any of his colleagues had been involved in while abroad.
Jim Stocker was taken directly from Heathrow, suitably filled with morphine to ease the pain. As part of the insurance claim Stocker qualified to be treated at a private clinic, the Tennyson Hospital, which was a short drive from the Gypsy Hill campus.
Ralph had heard from Margaret that the UK police had been contacted by their French counterparts as there were a few unanswered questions that they wanted put to Stocker as soon as he was well enough. She told him that the UK police had spoken with Granger and they wanted to interview Ralph as soon as possible. It appeared that Stocker had told the French authorities that someone had tried to rob him while he was in Peronne, and that Ralph knew what had happened. She told him that Granger had confirmed to the UK and French police that Ralph had been in Peronne but was now back in college.
Ralph was a bit taken aback at this news. He could see that he was gradually being drawn into possible lies that Stocker had concocted in order to avoid the police questioning him in any great detail about his winnings at Monte Carlo. He had the feeling that, as always where Jim was involved, there was likely to be trouble. On one level he wanted to distance himself from the whole affair, but he felt a certain loyalty towards poor Jim. On the other hand, he knew that the police, particularly if it involved Inspector Linham, were not going to be easily put off. It wasn’t long before his office phone rang and it was Linham wanting to see him. Within an hour Inspector Linham and Sergeant Wilson were sitting in Ralph’s office.
“Well Professor Chalmers, I’m sorry about your colleague’s accident over in France, but I’m sure he’s in good hands now that he is being looked after at Tennyson. Sergeant Wilson and I will be having a little chat with him later on, but we want to give him a chance to get settled in over there first. So as you are colleagues and you had been over in France with him until only a few days ago, we thought you might be able to shed some light on things.”
Ralph could see that he was now too deeply involved to simply explain that he was merely an innocent by-stander in the whole affair. Linham went on.
“So i
s there anything you can tell us about what happened to Doctor Stocker when you were in Perrone? We, as well as the French authorities, can’t help but think the two accidents must be linked somehow. If you do know anything, we need to know. And if your colleague has confided in you, you won’t be doing him any favours by withholding it from us; especially after this last incident.”
Ralph could see that his only option was to tell Linham everything that he knew. As he recounted his story he could hear Jane’s voice telling him that he should never have got involved in the first place, but he had, and that was water under the bridge. Ralph told Linham about Stocker’s inheritance, the incident in Peronne, and the text that Jim had sent from Monte Carlo. He also told Linham about Jim’s fears about the people chasing him for his gambling debts. Wilson made notes of everything that Ralph said while Linham just sat looking slightly perplexed at some of the details. It did strike Ralph that a lot of what had happened did sound almost incredible.
“So Professor Chalmers, you seem to know quite a bit about the whole affair. Did Doctor Stocker at any time suggest that he would be sharing some of his winnings with you or anyone else?”
Ralph thought for a moment. He had told Linham about the money that Stocker had sent to his wife and about the debts he had paid off. Surely he didn’t think that he was Stocker’s accomplice in all of this?
“No I wasn’t his partner in any of this, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”
“Just asking the question sir, that’s all.”
But Linham had a more serious note to his voice as he continued.
“You see sir, there does seem to be a connection between the incidents that have taken place here at the college and this latest happening. We have a serious enquiry on our hands as you are well aware. And there are two possible cases of criminal assault that could easily have turned into manslaughter or worse, and so far we haven’t been able to make any arrests. So can you think of any way Doctor Stocker could have obtained the money for his gambling in Monte Carlo by means other than an inheritance? Because we must tell you that we have checked, and Doctor Stocker did not have an uncle, and the income tax people have no record of an inheritance being received by him on his latest returns.”
Ralph was now casting his mind back to the conversation that he had with the Hotelier in France all those months ago. He remembered that the gold among the
treasure that had gone missing from the museum back in 1916 weighed an equivalent to three pounds or roughly 1500 grams. With 22 carat gold at its recent high value of around 30 pounds sterling per gram, if Stocker had found that gold at Kenry House and sold it, he would have had about 50,000 pounds sterling for his trip to Monte Carlo.
As he was talking Ralph suddenly remembered about the affair that Jim had with Peter’s wife. And he recalled how Peter had got violent and just stopped short of causing Jim a serious injury. Could it be that Peter had been trying to find some incriminating letters that Jim may have had, perhaps some intimate photos of Marcia that Peter wanted to get back? Perhaps Jim was threatening to publish the photos on the internet unless Peter paid him some money to get them back? By now Ralph’s head was spinning and he was certain that Linham and Wilson could read his thoughts.
“If I may say so sir, it would have helped if you could have been a bit more open with us at the beginning. But we can see that a lot of what you have told us was obviously given to you in confidence and some of it is very personal and sensitive. Well thanks for being so open with us now, but we would appreciate it if for the time being you kept all of this to yourself. We will be interviewing Doctor Stocker and no doubt your story will line up with what he has to say. We will also be interviewing Professor Cavendish when he returns. By the way, did he say where he was going when he left you in Peronne? We checked and he did not come straight back to the UK.”
“You’ll need to check that with him. I’m sorry that’s all I know,” replied Ralph.
Inspector Linham thanked Ralph again and the two policemen left him to his thoughts.
Attacking Jim when he found him en flagrante with his wife was one thing, but Ralph could see no reason why Peter would have been involved in any of the other incidents. There simply was no motive, at least that he could think of. Also if Jim did not inherit the money where did it come from? Was it possible that he had somehow found the gold hidden somewhere in Kenry House? He realized that it was a bit far-fetched, but it could have been part of the gold taken from the Hotel de Ville museum in France back in 1916 by the officer whose body had been found behind Kenry House. Whatever explanation emerged, he was sure that Inspector Linham was rapidly narrowing down the possibilities.
Later that week Jim Stocker was sufficiently recovered to be questioned by the police at the Tennyson Hospital. When they had returned to police headquarters Inspector Linham did his usual summing up.
“I think that we need to keep an eye on Stocker, although with two broken legs he won’t be going to the dance for a while. We also need to have a long talk with our Professor Cavendish. I know you like a bit of Beethoven Wilson, so I will leave that questioning to you. I also want to have another chat with our antipodean friend Professor Eggleton. She intrigues me, and I am not sure that she is out of the frame yet. When I had a check run on her husband, it seems that he has either been out of the country for a long while or he doesn’t exist. No tax returns made for the past five years. So he may be doing one of those off-shore arrangements or he is a figment of someone’s imagination, and no prizes for guessing who that one is. There are too many people falling in front of moving objects for my mind, Wilson. Can’t all be just bad luck or a coincidence.
And I have a feeling in my bones that our friend big Jack Welsh is no choir boy. He might have got a bash on the head, but he never gave a convincing explanation as to what he was doing in that cellar at night in the first place. Checking for leaks? I don’t think so. And why would anyone want to drown him? And what’s all this baloney about hidden treasure? Gold and jewelry stolen from a museum in France during the First World War and brought back to dear old Gypsy Hill and then an officer getting shot while convalescing here at Kenry House some hundred years ago? I tell you Wilson, if we can crack this one, then we both deserve a week off. But for now all I can offer is a pint at the pub down by the river.
Chapter 15
It was easy for someone to get into the patient area at the Tennyson Hospital where Jim Stocker was recovering from his injuries. The fees there were much higher than at other similar hospitals, and with that went private rooms and easy access day and night for close relatives.
Jim was trying to get some rest after some fairly painful treatment to his back and legs. He had been told that it would be a long time before he could sit up or think about walking, and that the damage would mean a few weeks of lying still on his back. As the evening light faded and the night staff settled him down, he saw a flicker at the window. He was quite nervous and felt particularly vulnerable lying there in the hospital bed. He turned his head and suddenly there in the doorway was Jack Welsh. Whether it was the light or the painkillers they had fed him, to Jim he looked like a giant bent on vengeance.
“So Jim my old lad, look where you’re messin’ about and tryin’ to double cross me ‘as got you. By rights I ought to break your bloody neck you stupid bugger. So you found my inheritance and told everyone some cock and bull story about your poor dead uncle. If you fought you could get away wiv it you must be a bigger fool than I fought.”
Jim could see that it was best to level with Jack. At this moment, more than ever, what he wanted was to have someone on his side. He had been badly shaken up by what he saw as two attempts on his life and he knew that Welsh was still sufficiently corruptible to become his ally.
“Look Jack, I know it looks as though I let you down, but once I found there was no will or letter like you said, and found the gold and jewels instead, I just panicked. I was in a tight spot, and with that trip to France on the cards, I
just took my chance when I found the treasure. You see I knew that Jane had been talking to Chalmers about some writing she had been deciphering on a slate she had dug up. One morning I was in early and as I came out of Kenry House I saw her going towards the entrance to the ice house so I followed her. She must have slipped on the wet grass and as she fell hit her head or something. She had dropped a clip board and I could see that it had a plan of the inside of the ice house with a mark showing a ledge or something in the side wall. I realised it must be the Will like you said, so I went down the ladder that some workers had left there and found the satchel. It only took a minute because I found a chisel that a workman must have dropped and when I came up I was going to call an ambulance when I saw one of the site workers running towards where the woman was lying. Once I knew she would be okay I decided to keep out of the way. When I got back to my office I opened the satchel and saw that it was full of gold and jewels.”
He could see that Welsh had resigned himself to having lost the gold, but now Stocker played his ace. “Look Jack, you can still make a fortune for both of us out of this mess. That satchel I found in the ice house was pretty big, and apart from the gold, there was a pile of diamonds and fancy jewelry. Some of the jewelry looked pretty expensive to me and must be worth a fortune to the right buyer, or maybe a collector.”
He could see Welsh’s eyes widen with greed.
“So after I managed to get a deal on the gold from a pal, I put the jewels in my travel bag, and when I got to Heathrow I put them in a lock up box in the departure hall at Terminal One. Don’t worry no one got the key. I still have it.”
He could see Welsh looking at the corner cupboard in the hospital room and knew that it wouldn’t be long before he would be sorting through his cupboard and bedside locker to get his hands on the key.
“So look, Jack, I’ve got the key, but I’m stuck in here for a while and what worries me more is that the police are asking too many questions. It’s only a matter of time before they start searching my things and it won’t take them long to put two and two together.”
The Gypsy Hill Murders (The Ralph Chalmers Mysteries Book 1) Page 13