“It was just a thought, Sir.”
“No, I think we need to concentrate on what the item was, why it would be of value to someone, and who that someone might be. And I can tell you here and now that it won’t have anything to do with that murder in Luxor. We need to put some of our paper shufflers on to this burglary and get back to finding our escaped prisoner before he kills some poor innocent in our fair county. I know he’s out there somewhere and we need to find him before the foreign visitors and Downton Abbey fans start flocking in for the season. It’s going to be a nightmare once the roads and hotels fill up with that lot.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Right now I could do with a cup of tea, Sergeant. And by the way, you didn’t miss anything by not going to Cairo. It’s hot, smelly and noisy.”
“Just like our canteen, Sir”.
Inspector Roberts just shook his head.
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Chapter 2
Gypsy Hill campus was situated in a leafy and exclusive suburb on the outskirts of the town. The well-kept lawns were hedged with white, yellow, red, purple and pink azaleas and backed by stands of pine trees. There was the usual mixture of new buildings and two older houses, one of which was where Ralph had his office. Kenry House was an idyllic place to study and work. The campus was unusually quiet as small groups of students gathered together, anxiously exchanging concerns about their upcoming exams. The library was crowded with those seeking reassurance from friends that they would pass their upcoming tests. English Universities, unlike those in America, close for the summer. Many of the staff head for vacation homes in France, Portugal or Spain where they have eight weeks to ‘go native’ before the whole cycle starts again in the autumn. Dean Rupert Granger had other plans for Ralph.
“Come in, Ralph, take a seat. Margaret’s getting us some coffee.” He gestured to a chair by the window of his spacious study that overlooked the lawns. An 80 year old magnolia tree graced the view with its white blossoms providing a sweet scent that heralded summer. Ralph found these informal meetings difficult. Granger was from the school of human relations that relied on favours. These Granger grudgingly handed out, but not without extracting his pound of flesh. Margaret brought the coffee in and set it down on a low table before she made her discreet exit. This was a familiar pattern and Ralph knew that a proposition was about to follow.
“You look as though you’re ready for the summer break, Ralph. I know I am. It’s been a difficult semester. Have you made any plans?”
Ralph trod carefully. He knew that the first move had been made.
“Not yet. I just returned from a conference at Bath. There are exam papers to set, and then of course the marking.”
Granger played his card.
“I had a meeting last week with some people who are over from Grand Valley. The VC and Roy Lenners, you know, the new President. He’s over for a holiday with his wife. Lenners is sending a group of his staff over for an exchange visit and I want you to be their host. Unfortunately I’ll be away. Ruth has finally talked me into going to France. She’s organised a cottage in the Dordogne for a couple of weeks, bless her. You’re free, I assume?”
Ralph knew that other than giving a blunt refusal, he had no choice but to accept. He had taught for a semester at the University in Michigan and had made some good friends there, so at least there was an up-side.
“Sure, I’d be happy to stand in. Good to see that you’re getting away. France is a great place for a holiday.” Now that he had accepted, he started to relax.
“When do they arrive?” Ralph asked.
“They arrive the week after next. Margaret has all the details, but I think there are about seven in the party.”
“Are they expecting us to put on some workshops while they’re here?” Ralph asked. “If so, I’ll need to speak to some staff about running them.”
“Ralph, sometimes you amaze me. Look, Lenners wants his people to have a good time. They’ll be on holiday. These are Americans, Ralph, they believe in working hard when they work, but when they’re on vacation they want to enjoy themselves.”
“So, I’m not exactly sure what you want,” Ralph hedged. He was sure that the Dean had something specific in mind but wanted to make certain that he had hooked Ralph before he reeled him in.
“Some of those new television series like Downton Abbey and Mr. Selfridge have gone down a treat over there. Evidently Lenners and his wife are fans. He thinks that they’d be thrilled to see the locations where they’re filmed. Of course they’ll also want to do the usual round of the Royal Palaces. Ask Margaret if you get stuck for ideas.” Granger leant forward. “Ralph you’ve been a bachelor for too long. You need to bring yourself up to date.” Granger gave one of those self-satisfied smiles of his as he reached for his coffee. Ralph could almost hear him thinking: game set and match. Now that I’ve shoved all that onto old Chalmers plate I can just tootle off to France with the wife. Ralph forced himself to listen when he realized that Granger had not yet finished with his little pep talk.
“And don’t worry about the budget on this one, Ralph. GV are one of America’s top producers of Fulbright Scholars and are climbing steadily up the university rankings. Lenners wants to send a signal out that he is pleased with the work that his staff have put in over the last few years.”
Ralph had seen a few episodes of Mr. Selfridge about the American business entrepreneur who created the world famous retail store in London. He knew that the current establishment was nothing like the one depicted on the screen, but he could understand how a fan might enjoy visiting the store and taking a look around. He had enjoyed watching the Downton Abbey series himself. He had particularly liked the scenes of the long drive leading up to the stately home and manicured lawns set among thousands of acres of parkland. It had captured Ralph’s imagination and no doubt those of millions of Anglophiles around the world.
But Ralph was still distracted by the thought that Charles Edington’s murder was linked to Highclere Castle and its association with Tutankhamun. His mind was already working on some possible connection and was not really focused on Granger’s plans for their visitors.
Margaret opened the door to signal that the meeting was over. It confirmed his suspicions that Granger had a secret button under the desk to summon his secretary when he wanted to signal to a visitor that the meeting was over.
“Your next appointment is waiting, Professor Granger.” She announced. Ralph had heard it all before.
On his way out, Ralph saw one of his colleagues, Barry Scott, sitting in the outer office and looking slightly apprehensive. He knew that Barry needed Granger’s approval for a conference he wanted to attend in Rio de Janeiro. The year before it had been Buenos Aires. Everyone knew that he always presented the same paper over and over at conferences, but no one seemed to care. The office gossip was that Barry enjoyed the South American nightlife. Some said it was to meet women, still others hinted that he was interested in the men; the jury was still out.
Back in his office, Ralph rang Katie. She had been a colleague until a few years ago when an altercation involving a loaded revolver and a member of staff had resulted in her spending time in Holloway Women’s Prison. Since her release she had helped Ralph as an independent consultant on a number of research assignments. More recently she had taught in the Education Department at the Sorbonne. Coping with the change from Professor of Education at Kingston to adjunct in Paris had not been easy. But Katie had guts. It was something she had in spades.
“Hi, Ralph,” Katie said when she picked up on the phone. “How was Bath?”
“Not too bad,” he said. “Anything new on the home front?”
“Not so fast there, Ralph. I get to ask the questions first.”
“Okay. Go on, then.” Ralph generally managed to sidestep any probing into his own life, but he knew that he may as well not even try those diversionary tactics with Katie.
“Are you feeling healthier after drinking all that
sulphur water and dunking yourself in those Roman baths?” Katie was always going forward. A trait that he had mixed feelings about.
“It was fine.”
“Hmmm. Not much enthusiasm there.” Katie was Australian, and Ralph was still not quite sure about her blunt head on approach.
“No it was alright, really. I met some chap who is Head of the Economics Department at University of Cairo. We went into town for some fish and chips and had a few beers. But the conference was the usual routine. A few key note speakers, and then some special interest groups.”
“Where’d they put you up? I hope it was somewhere halfway decent this time.”
“Awful. Student dorms and sharing a bathroom with six other blokes is not exactly my scene.”
“What with all that sailing you do, I’d have thought living cheek to jowl with a bunch of smelly guys would be right up your street.” One of the things that she found attractive about Ralph was his love of outdoor sports. She knew that he was at his happiest when he was out sailing in rough weather with his buddies. In less dramatic situations he could appear quite taciturn and a bit uptight.
“Trying to get some sleep in a student dorm is nothing at all like sailing.”
“Anyhow, something must be up or you wouldn’t be calling from work.” He could hear the challenge in her voice.
“To tell the truth, I’ve just come from talking to Granger and I’ve been suckered into baby-sitting the delegation from Grand Valley when they come over. It’s not exactly my idea of a summer holiday.”
“What does he want you to do?”
“The new President and his wife and some of the staff will be over for a bit of a jolly and he has me pegged to be their personal tour guide.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad to me. You get a big budget to hit all the tourist spots and have a good time. Some people would queue up for that sort of hardship. I wouldn’t mind a spot of tea at Fortnum and Masons and a box seat at Covent Garden myself.” He could see that he was going to have to work a lot harder than this if he expected to elicit any sympathy from Katie.
“Granger says that they want to see some of the sights in London and then go to Downton Abbey.”
“You mean Highclere Castle?”
“Well, yes, but as far as they’re concerned Highclere is Downton. I read this article in the paper that some chap from Reading University was murdered in a hotel out in Luxor. It said he lived over near Highclere. That’s quite a coincidence, don’t you think?”
“Now I get it. You’re in your sleuthing mode, Ralph Chalmers. I should have known. I turn my back for five minutes and you’re out there trying to find ‘who dun-nit’ again. You’re impossible.”
“No, it’s not what you think. I was just thinking about it because of the article in the paper.”
“Right. Like I really believe that, Ralph.”
“No, really. Hey, why don’t you go with us when we visit Highclere? They’ve got a special exhibition on right now about King Tut. It might even be fun. You could help me take the Americans around.”
“I wish I could. It sounds like a lot more fun than my plans. I’ve just heard that one of my aunts has passed away so I’m flying out to Sydney for the funeral. She was Mum’s younger sister and they were very close. But I’ll only be gone for a week, so I could catch up with you when I get back. Just let me have your schedule so I’ll know where to turn up.”
“Margaret, you remember, Granger’s secretary, anyhow, she’s making up an itinerary. I’ll email it to you.”
“Okay. I’d better go and get everything organized for my trip, but I’ll give you a call before I go.” He just had time to say cheerio before she rang off.
Ralph had got used to Katie’s manner, although it had been a challenge. They got on well and he felt that underneath that bravado she relied on him as much as he did on her.
That afternoon Ralph walked the half mile from his office to Dorich House, the Museum owned and run by the University. Dora Gardine and Richard Hare, the Museum’s founders, had bequeathed the house and their collection of art and sculptures to Kingston on the condition it was used for the benefit of the local community. He had been invited by Doctor Harper, the curator, for a cream tea that they provided for local visitors as well as overseas tourists once she had given them the ‘grand tour’. Cynthia Harper and his friend and colleague Lance Bains had surprised everyone when they announced their engagement a few months earlier. Far from the staid, uptight harridan everyone at the University had always taken her for, Cynthia was great fun once you got to know her. She and Lance had spent holidays with Ralph and Katie at their cottage on the North Devon coast and the two couples had become good friends. As they drank their Earl Grey tea he told her about the upcoming visit and Granger’s suggestions.
“I’d be happy to show them around Dorich House,” Cynthia said. “And if it would help, Lance and I can take time off and go with you to Highclere, although it might be a bit of a job getting so many tickets; seven did you say? Plus one’s for you and us, and Katie if she gets back from Australia by then. I know that most days they’re sold out. But I have a few contacts and I’ll see what I can do. You know they’re running a sort of mini Tutankhamun exhibition to pep up the attraction. I thought of doing something similar here, but no surprise, I got a firm ‘no’ from the committee.”
“I read about that. No surprise they want to milk it, what with the connection between Highclere and Tutankhamun,” said Ralph. “Did you hear about that Professor from Reading who was murdered in Luxor not long ago? The papers said that he was an expert on Egyptian antiquities. Evidently he lived near Highclere Castle.”
“No, I must have missed that, Ralph. But I did read somewhere that the 5th Earl nearly bankrupted the family when he was trying to find Tutankhamun’s tomb with Howard Carter back in the 1920’s.”
“It paid off in the end,” Ralph said as he reached for another cream and jam filled scone. “Presumably the things he brought back solved the family’s cash flow problems.”
“Not quite,” Cynthia informed him. “It’s true that he brought back a lot of artifacts over the years, but he had to leave most of the finds from King Tut’s tomb in Egypt. Actually I saw them when I went to Egypt with a friend of mine back when we were at college together. She’s at the British Museum now; she’s the curator in the Department of Ancient Egypt and Sudan. Mostly I remember how exhausting it was trying to get around all sixty something tombs in that terrible heat. Tutankhamun’s was number KV62.”
“They must have the same mind set as the producers of those celebrity awards shows on television where they save the only one anyone is interested in for last,” Ralph observed.
Cynthia spoke to several of the visitors about their tour and tried to gain a bit of feedback. She was not averse to a bit of productive marketing herself where she thought the Museum might benefit. When she returned to their conversation Ralph was just dabbing at the last crumbs of his scone with his finger.
“Evidently the Earl amassed quite a collection. After his death Carter catalogued it and it was sold to the Metropolitan Museum in New York. Carter kept back a few important items that remained at Highclere. Evidently some years later one of the servants found them when he was clearing out one of the cupboards.”
“What happened to them?”
“I believe some were loaned to the local museum at Reading and some to the British Museum. I’m really not sure. We curators aren’t encouraged to speculate,” she said with a laugh.
“So if all the artefacts have been spread around to various museums, what’s left at Highclere to put in the exhibition?”
“Mostly facsimiles, I’m afraid, although they’re top quality by all accounts. It would be difficult for the layman to tell the difference. But I did hear that there are one or two genuine artefacts on loan from the British Museum, and of course one or two that never left Highclere in the first place.”
“Do you think it’s still worth seeing?”
Ralph wanted to know. He knew that Americans did not mind putting their hands in their pockets if they were getting value for money, but they did not want to get ripped off.
“I think so. It shows how the excavation sites were set up and how they went about finding the tombs. Sort of builds up the atmosphere. Yes, I think they’ll get their money’s worth.”
Before Ralph left, they agreed to all meet up one evening at the Black Lion pub in Surbiton. He had only discovered it when The Good Life, a popular local magazine, ran an article about it after it had undergone extensive renovations. Now it was Ralph’s favourite watering hole; good food, a nice atmosphere, and best of all, it was only a 5 minute walk from his apartment.
Back in the office Ralph thought about the Downton puzzle. He had read that museums around the world were responding to requests from the Egyptian authorities to return artefacts to Egypt, arguing that they were National treasures and should be returned to their rightful home. Ralph’s mind wandered back to Charles Edington and why anyone would want to murder him. What if he had stumbled upon information about the location of an undiscovered tomb when he was cataloguing artefacts for the British Museum? That could certainly explain his presence in Luxor. Ralph had read in a recent edition of National Geographic that, apart from a find in 2005, no major new tombs had been discovered since 1923. If Edington were to discover a new tomb, at the very least it would ensure a knighthood. That was every academic’s dream. What if he had gone to Egypt to obtain backing to launch a major dig? Suppose someone who either wanted to stop him or get the information for themselves had killed him? It struck him as ironic that Edington’s death would focus even more attention on Highclere Castle and the Tutankhamun exhibition, where evidently business was booming.
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Chapter 3
Murder at Downton (The Ralph Chalmers Mysteries Book 6) Page 2