Waiting in the airport arrivals lounge at Heathrow Terminal 1 was not Ralph’s first choice on how to spend a Saturday morning. It was just before 11:00 as he looked around at the people, mostly families, leaning on the barriers, staring at the swing doors which would soon spill out their relatives and loved ones. The army of slightly dour looking mini-cab drivers holding up cards bearing company logos reminded him of contestant at a beauty pageant. No winners there, he thought. The arrivals board showed United’s flight UA938 from Chicago as ‘landed’, so Ralph settled down for a 30 minute wait. His party from Grand Valley would be tired but thankful that Lenners had paid for Economy Plus seats. Ralph knew that having the extra 5 inches of leg room was well worth the additional cost. But then Americans always put a positive spin on everything, no matter what. It was time raise his game. He tried to perk up by drinking his second cup of airport coffee. It wasn’t exactly up to Costa standard, but it was not quite as bitter as what passed for coffee in the college refectory. He had made the journey between Michigan and London more than a few times. First the puddle jumper between the regional airport at Grand Rapids and Chicago, then the bustle of Chicago O’Hare, followed by an 8 or 9 hour flight.
With luck they had avoided the peripatetic gaggle of crying babies that even breached the sanctuary of First Class nowadays. His secretary had hired an executive 12 seater coach for the two weeks of their visit. The coach driver, James Riley had been in the army for 15 years. After two spells in Iraq and one in Afghanistan, he had vowed that the only automatic he ever wanted to see again was the gearbox of a Mercedes Benz Executive Coach. Jim sat in the café area sipping a cup of tea and reading the sports page of the daily paper while Ralph scanned the list that Granger’s secretary had provided.
Tom and Angela Boyce: A retired policeman and a lawyer. I wonder what they talk about over supper, he mused. Tom taught Criminal Justice in the College of Community and Public Service. Ralph could just picture the response students would get if they stepped out of line in his class. Angela had her own law practice and specialized in Property and Family Law.
Arthur and Betty Ryan. Betty taught music in the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences. According to his notes, she gave recitals on the 28 Rank Pipe Organ at the Cook De Witt Centre. They certainly know how to attract wealthy benefactors, he thought. That organ must have cost a fortune. He realized that he was beginning to think like a tour guide. Next I’ll be waving an umbrella over my head as I lead the group through a crowded museum, he thought. A note alongside Arthur Ryan’s name caught his attention. Retired US Navy SEAL Instructor. Ralph wondered if Arthur would give him some tips on keeping fit. It could help improve his performance in the swimming leg of the ‘Tin Man’ triathlons he went in for. If he expected to perform well at the competition in Rome next year he would need to knock 5 minutes off his best time.
Ralph glanced up at the arrivals board –‘Baggage in Hall’. That would take at least 15 minutes, allowing for immigration and customs checks. He knew from experience that most people did not travel light. No doubt they would spend ages retrieving their bags from that exasperating carousel. Many was the time that he raced through Heathrow’s long corridors to beat the crowd only to stand there and wait until everyone else collected their bags before his emerged from behind those dangling plastic flaps.
Liam Wilkes: Teaches German and Polish. Not surprising, thought Ralph. With the US pushing trade in Europe, the business students at GV must be keen to improve their CV’s and job prospects. Sounds Irish, he thought.
Ethan Detchner: Teaches Arabic through Culture and Customs, ARA368: The same department as Liam Wilkes and Betty Ryan so they are probably pals, he mused. With a course number in the three hundreds’ it looked as though Ethan taught at a high level. Deborah White: Head of Administration, Seidman School of Business. He knew Debbie from a previous visit to Grand Valley. She was in her mid-thirties, no kids, and at the time he was there she was just getting over a very difficult divorce. As he recalled, it had involved domestic violence, something that Ralph found abhorrent.
As the doors swung open, he saw Debbie emerge pushing a giant trolley loaded with suitcases. Balanced on the top was the GV mascot – ‘Louie the Laker’. The students idolized Louie. He was dressed in a black and white striped shirt, blue pants, a blue sea captain’s hat and large black boots. Ralph waved as Debbie looked around. He ducked under the barrier and stepped forward to give her a hug. Friends had commented on his chameleon-like ability to be the staid and reserved Englishman one minute and the gregarious ‘hale fellow well met’, the next. He enjoyed both roles and so far the two personas had not met. As the group emerged Ralph led them to a quiet area away from the crowd and introduced himself and told them that he would be looking after them during their visit. There were the usual exchanges and attempts at congeniality, but Ralph recognized all the signs of a long flight and very little sleep.
“Jim here will be our driver while you’re here. If you’ll just come with me, we’ll follow him to the car-park and get away from all this noise. It’s only a short drive to the hotel and I expect that you will all be glad of a chance to relax and settle in. The weather is good and fingers crossed it will stay that way.”
“Don’t worry, we get our fair share of rain in Michigan so we won’t melt,” said Angela.
“I spent a year here with the military and it rained the whole time,” said Arthur with a laugh.
“That should have been perfect for you Navy guys,” said Tom. They all laughed.
Jim smiled at the reference to the military. He took Debbie’s trolley and led the way to the lifts.
Ralph’s visitors were soon clear of the crowded airport complex and comfortably ensconced in the Mercedes coach. Ralph explained that it was only a 45 minute drive to the Ditton Lodge Hotel, where they would be staying. On arrival the hotel staff helped Jim unload their luggage and everyone agreed to meet Ralph in the lounge for a briefing on what had been planned for their stay.
The family run Ditton Lodge Hotel, with its light oak paneling, thick carpets and a self-service bar, had a distinctively 1930’s feel. The cozy breakfast room looked out onto a well kept lawn with pretty flower borders, and a few wrought iron tables and chairs scattered around the patio provided a nice place to relax when the weather cooperated.
“It’s a great hotel, Ralph,” said Debbie as she joined Ralph in the lounge. “My room is just perfect. It’s really comfortable; so much better than those big impersonal hotel chains.” She sunk down into a chintz covered armchair that all but swallowed her up.
“We thought you might appreciate somewhere a bit more homey and personal,” Ralph explained. “There’s a new Marriot a few blocks away that‘s okay for a night or two, but for any longer we thought you would appreciate this more. What about everyone else? Are your rooms alright?”
There were murmurs of approval. Tom broke the ice.
“You must have some spies at GV Ralph. Us married couples have the best suites. I imagine that Debbie and the guys are in the servants’ quarters,” he laughed.
“We’ve done okay, Tom, never you mind,” she rejoined. “They put me and Liam and Ethan upstairs because they knew we were the fittest.”
“Interesting. I hope you swinging singles behave yourselves up there.”
“Very funny. We do have separate rooms, Mister wise-guy.”
“I hear you’re a Navy SEAL, Arthur. You must be fitter than all of us,” Ralph interjected.
“Well, I do my best,” replied Arthur with a quiet smile. Ralph recognized the confidence that stems from someone who knows they are stronger and fitter than anyone else in the room.
“So Ralph, what’s on the agenda? Once we’ve recovered from our trip, that is,” Ethan asked. Ralph detected an accent that was definitely not American. It sounded slightly Arabic, although Ethan hardly sounded like an Arabic name. But Ralph thought it would be nearly impossible for anyone except a native speaker to teach Arabic.
Ralph
dropped into his man in charge mode. It was a style that came naturally after so many years addressing groups.
“Of course you’ll all have time to do things that you’re particularly interested in, but there are one or two things that we’ve had to book up in advance. The first is a dinner at the Criterion Restaurant in London and a chance to meet the Kingston VC, Marcel Raveaux. He’s been looking forward to meeting you. We’ve also arranged a tour of our Museum at Dorich House. I think you’ll find that very interesting. The Museum has some wonderful Russian paintings and sculptures on display and quite a few other works of art. Cynthia Harper has done a great job of getting it all organized and she’s a wealth of information about the exhibits in her care.”
“We will have some time to do things that aren’t organized as well, won’t we?” Debbie asked.
“Of course. But we wanted to make sure that no one gets bored or feels that we haven’t done a good job as your hosts,” Ralph smiled. He then returned to the itinerary that Margaret, Dean Granger’s secretary had set out.
“We’ll also be visiting Highclere Castle. Some of you may be familiar with it from the television show Downton Abbey.”
“I thought it was filmed at Downton Abbey,” Betty said.
“”That’s just the fictional name,” Ralph explained. “The real stately home is Highclere Castle. But I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. It’s the seat of the Earls of Carnarvon. Some of you may be familiar with the Fifth Earl’s exploration of the ancient Egyptian tombs, most notably that of the boy King, Tutankhamun. As a matter of fact, we’ve even managed to get tickets for the Tutankhamun Exhibition that Highclere has on at the moment.”
“Will we get to stay in the castle?” Betty wanted to know.
“No, I’m afraid our influence doesn’t stretch quite that far,” Ralph laughed. “But I think you’ll approve of the place we selected. We’ll be staying at the Vineyard in the village of Stockcross that’s not too far from there. I think you’ll like it. It’s quite charming but has all the modern amenities; you know, spa, wine cellar, that sort of thing.” There were murmurs of approval.
“We’ve also planned a day at the Newbury Races. The Newbury International Music Festival will be on so we can take that in as well. The Watermill Theatre at Bagnor is nearby and they’re showing Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility. And I’m sure that any of you who have children will be familiar with Watership Down. Our hotel is near the spot that inspired Richard Adams to write it. I remember reading it when I was much younger. I understand they made a film, and some of you may have seen that as well. It’s meant to be a wonderful spot to take photos.”
“I loved that film,” Betty said. “Especially the part where Art Garfunkel sang that song Bright Eyes. Ralph was a bit startled as she threw her head back and burst into song.
Bright eyes, burning like fire
Bright eyes, how can you close and fail
How can the light that burned so brightly
Suddenly turn so pale?
Bright eyes.
Everyone applauded, including the hotelier for whom this must have been a first.
Ralph noted that Arthur had reached out to hold his wife’s hand.
“Hey, maybe they’ll want Betty to sing and play the organ at the music festival,” Ethan said. “Some people say she can even carry a tune.” They all laughed.
“Ralph, this Highclere Castle. Was that one of King Henry’s palaces?” Asked Debbie.
“No, it belongs to the Earl’s of Carnarvon. But they’ll tell you all about that when we get there.”
“Trust you English to complicate matters,” said Angela. “Why not call it what it is?”
Ralph could see that Angela, could be a bit contentious. Her husband Tom tried to ease the tension.
“It all sounds really interesting,” said Tom. “You’ve sure got it all organized. But we’d like to have a chance to see more of the sights in London as well. You know, Tower of London, Westminster Abbey and maybe take in a show in the West End if we have time?”
“That’s not a problem, Tom. I’ll get my secretary Janice to see what’s available and set it up. I know that President Lenners wants the trip to be fun, so we’ll do everything we can to make sure you have a good time.” There were smiles all round. If his colleagues at Kingston heard their VC saying he wanted them to have a good time, and that the University would foot the bill, there would have been a few raised eyebrows and some cynical comments thrown in.
“Ralph, that visit to Highclere is perfect for me,” said Liam. “My grandma came from there back in the 1940’s. She was a GI bride and the family asked me to take a look at all those old places she talked about.”
“Well, you should have plenty of time to soak up the atmosphere,” Ralph said.
“And I guess old Ethan here is raring to see that Egyptian exhibition at the Castle. Maybe he can translate the hieroglyphs for us,” Liam said with a laugh.
Ethan made no response, but Ralph could see that he had been taken aback when Liam mentioned the exhibition.
“When you’ve had time to settle in you may want to go for a stroll downtown,” Ralph said in an effort to change the subject. “It’s only about a fifteen minute walk. Then if we meet up back here at 7, there’s a neat Italian restaurant where we can have dinner. It’s not far so we won’t need to go in the coach.”
Ralph detected a few wry grins as he left. As he strode across the gravel driveway of the hotel he heard the crunch of footsteps. Turning he saw that it was Arthur.
“Ralph, you need to know something about Ethan. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good guy, but Liam’s remark about getting him to translate those hieroglyphics has a story to it, which we all know and you don’t. Just so it doesn’t get awkward, maybe I should put you in the picture.”
“What’s on your mind?” Ralph wanted to know.
“It’s just that Ethan heads up an organization that campaigns to have artifacts, like those you mentioned at that exhibition, returned to Egypt and he can be a bit sensitive about it.”
“I can see how Liam’s remark could have struck a nerve,” Ralph said.”
“Yes, I guess Liam’s a bit naïve sometimes. It probably comes from being a bachelor for too long.” Arthur grinned. Ralph winced inwardly. He wondered what they would think when they found out that he was still a bachelor himself. Arthur continued.
“Ethan’s a very nice guy, but he takes Egyptian culture really seriously.”
“Well I suppose he would since he teaches the stuff,” said Ralph, trying to ease what he felt was a slightly embarrassing situation. “But thanks for giving me the heads up, Arthur. I’ll go easy when we visit Highclere.”
“Thanks, Ralph. See you at seven then, buddy.” He grasped Ralph’s hand and gave what could only be described as a vice-like knuckle cruncher.
As Ralph walked back to his apartment he couldn’t get the Bright Eyes tune out of his head. Ralph reflected over the different personalities he would have to contend with over the next ten days. Liam wanted to see where his grandmother had lived and Ethan was twitchy at the mention of Egyptian artifacts. Ralph wondered if the report of Professor Edington’s murder had found its way into the American media. He might have to tread a bit carefully there as Ethan looked the type that could easily fly off the handle. There was Arthur. He seemed steady, and a really sincere chap. Tom, the Criminal Justice lecturer. Ralph wondered if he was the joker in the group. If so he could be relied upon to keep everyone on their toes with his wise cracks. Angela seemed to take things very seriously. And Debbie. He wondered if she had gotten over her divorce. Who knows, if she was looking to find romance maybe she’d finish up marrying some English aristocrat. He made a note to call the University and ask Margaret to print off an itinerary for their guests. Debbie had given him the ‘Louis the Laker’ mascot and he had promised to give it pride of place in his apartment. It clashed with the art deco furnishings, but at least for now it looked happy enough on the mantle-p
iece. He was eager to send Katie an email updating her on what to expect when she got home. He just hoped that would be soon.
____________________
Chapter 4
Janice did a terrific job organizing the first week. A visit to The Tower of London had been followed by a trip down the Thames to Greenwich Naval Museum. It was a highlight for Arthur who approved of the fact that the English sailors in the 1700’s knew what discipline and leadership was all about. There were the usual jokes made about being in two places at once when they were straddling the Greenwich Meridian. At Westminster Abbey, they heard evensong sung by the young Abbey choristers and a got the chance to hear the organ which brought Betty near to tears again. They were surprised to learn that there had been choir boys in the Abbey since 1380. That evening they went to St Martin’s Theatre to see Agatha Christie’s play The Mouse Trap, which they were amazed to hear had been running non-stop for 62 years. The stage manager asked the audience not to reveal to their friends ‘who dun nit’. A trip in a pleasure steamer from Kingston to Hampton Court Palace and a tour of the Dorich House Museum met with everyone’s approval. On the final evening before they set off for Highclere, the VC, Marcel Raveux hosted a dinner at the Criterion Restaurant in Piccadilly. His Gallic charms were there for everyone to enjoy. He had even brought along the college photographer. No doubt the pictures would be on his counterpart’s desk in Grand Rapids by noon next day. He never missed a trick where an opportunity for self-promotion presented itself. Just another step in his ambition to be in the New Year’s honors’ list. But it was a good preview of their upcoming week at Highclere, as the Art Deco interior design in the restaurant had been used as a setting for some of the eating out scenes in Downton Abbey.
Back in his apartment Ralph scanned the menu and attached it to an email he sent to Katie, adding a note:
Thought you’d like to see what you missed. No vegemite sandwiches – sorry.
Menu
Starters: Salmon Gravlax, Lemon Mousse, Rye Bread, Capers, Pickled Shallots.
Murder at Downton (The Ralph Chalmers Mysteries Book 6) Page 3