The Ledbury Lamplighters (23 page)

‘My God, sir!’ exclaimed Sally the maid, rushing to meet the two men. ‘My God, sir, you’re supposed to be dead!’

‘Far from it, Sally, for as you can see I am alive and well!’ replied Ravenscroft, laughing.

‘But you’re supposed to be shot through the heart and dying, out on the hills!’ said the frustrated maid.

‘Sally, what is all this about?’ asked Ravenscroft, suddenly realizing that the servant was sincere in her misapprehension.

‘Just after six o’clock tonight, sir, one of your men knocked on the door and said you had been seriously injured whilst undertaking an arrest on the hills.’

‘What policeman? I sent no policeman here,’ stated Ravenscroft anxiously. ‘How was he dressed?’

‘He wore a police tunic, and cape, just like they do, and said he had come over from the station at Malvern.’

‘Good grief!’ said Ravenscroft, suddenly realizing the seriousness of the situation and fearing the worst. ‘Where is Mrs Ravenscroft? For God’s sake, girl, where is Mrs Ravenscroft?’ he shouted.

‘She’s gone with him, sir! He said you were dying out on the hills, and that you had asked for her – and so she went with him,
sir,’ replied the distraught maid.

‘Oh my God, Crabb, do you see what this means? It’s Cranston – and he has Lucy within his power!’

Ravenscroft stood silently at the window of the cottage in Church Lane, waiting for the dawn to break so that he could begin the desperate search for his wife. Several hours previously he had learned how Cranston had first assumed the disguise of the Catholic priest, and then that of the constable, in order to lure Lucy away from the safety of their home. Then he and Crabb had quickly returned to the Feathers, in the futile hope that Cranston would have taken refuge there, only to learn from the receptionist that their guest had left the previous afternoon. Now Cranston had Lucy at his mercy, somewhere out on the hills, and Ravenscroft felt utterly powerless in his attempts to find her. Furthermore, he cursed himself for his own stupidity. Whilst he had been busily engaged in bringing Nathaniel Montacute’s murderer to book, Cranston had seized the opportunity to lure Lucy away from the safety of their home on his false pretext. He ought to have seen that the man would have stooped to such an evil design in order to secure the envelope. He should have offered his wife his protection; should have realized that Cranston would have struck at the very heart of his own family. Through his own negligence and stupidity he had placed the life of the woman he loved above all other at the gravest risk.

‘If it is any consolation, sir, I don’t think the fellow would have killed Mrs Ravenscroft,’ said Crabb from the armchair. ‘Not while he still wants that envelope.’

‘I pray you are right, Crabb. If he has harmed her in any way, I
swear I will kill him, Tom, and let hang the consequences. But where can he have taken her? Where do we start to look?’

‘My guess is that he has left the town.’

‘I think you are right there, Tom. We will have a word with the cab men, when it is light, and see if they know or saw anything yesterday evening. According to Sally, Cranston intended taking Lucy out somewhere on the hills. One of the men could have taken them out there. Now they could be anywhere! God, I have been so stupid, Tom! Why did I not see that Cranston would do something like this? I should have realized that he would not have made any further attempts on Midwinter’s offices and that he would have resorted to more desperate measures.’

‘You were not to know that, sir.’

‘But I should have known, damn it!’ said Ravenscroft, bringing his fist hard into the base of his other hand, anxiously pacing up and down the room. ‘I should have known!’

‘It will be daylight soon, sir. I’ll have every available man out searching the hills until we find them,’ said Crabb, trying to sound confident.

‘It will be like looking for a needle in a haystack. No, Cranston has us just where he wants us. He knows we will be waiting here, and that we are powerless to act. If he wants that envelope and its contents, he will have to make his next move soon.’

‘I’m sure you’re right, sir.’

Suddenly there was a loud knocking on the front door of the cottage. Ravenscroft looked across at Crabb, before the two of them dashed quickly into the hall. A postboy was handing a letter to Sally the maid.

‘Letter for Ravenscroft,’ said the boy.

‘Who gave you this letter to deliver?’ asked Ravenscroft, anxiously taking the envelope from the maid.

‘No one, sir. It was left at the office yesterday afternoon, with instructions that it was not to be delivered until early this morning.’

‘Thank you,’ replied Ravenscroft, giving the boy a silver coin before returning to the living-room.

‘Could be from Cranston, sir?’ suggested Crabb.

‘I don’t recognize the handwriting,’ said Ravenscroft, examining the envelope. ‘If it is from Cranston, then he must have written it
and deposited it at the post office yesterday, before he abducted Lucy.’ He tore open the envelope and read aloud its contents.

‘Well, at least he has not harmed your wife, sir,’ said Crabb, trying to sound reassuring.

‘You are forgetting one thing, Crabb. He wrote this letter before he seized Lucy. We only have his word that he has no intention of harming her,’ said Ravenscroft, laying the letter down on the table.

‘What will you do now, sir?’

‘We know that Cranston has Lucy somewhere near the old cave on the hills. I can see no alternative but to comply with his instructions.’

‘I’ll have some men out on the hills. We will have him as soon as he shows himself.’

‘No, Tom. From up there he will see our men for miles around. He will know that we are closing in on him and will carry out his threat to kill Lucy. I cannot take that risk.’

‘Then at least let me come with you in the cab. I could follow you up the hill, keeping at a safe distance. I could make sure that he
never saw me.’

‘No, Tom. I know you mean well, but you must stay here. I have to go alone, as he says, otherwise he will kill Lucy.’

Crabb looked crestfallen and turned away.

‘Dear Tom. We have been through a great deal together, and you know how I value your service – and your friendship – but now I must see out this business alone, for Lucy’s sake. I cannot put her at risk. I hope you will accept that, Tom?’

The two men looked at one another.

‘Very well, sir,’ said Crabb.

‘Good. Then this is what we must do. What hour does the bank open?’

‘Just after nine, sir.’

‘Then we will go to the bank, and persuade Maurice Montacute to let us have the coachman’s envelope from his safe before I leave for the camp. There is nothing more we can do now before nine, so I will ask Sally to prepare some breakfast for us. Cheer up, Tom, once I have Lucy safe and sound, we will have all the time in the world to lay our hands on Cranston. He cannot escape us for ever.’

The town clock struck the hour of ten as Ravenscroft and Crabb stood by a cab in the marketplace in Ledbury.

‘Well, Tom, I best be on my way. You know my instructions? Neither you nor anyone else is to follow me. A life will depend upon it,’ said Ravenscroft firmly.

‘Yes, sir, but I wish you would take this pistol with you, sir,’ said Crabb, producing a weapon from the pocket of his tunic.

‘No, Tom. If he sees that I have come armed, he will know that I have broken my word and will kill Lucy.’

‘But how will you protect yourself, sir?’

‘Once Lucy is safe, I’ll think of some way in which I can move against him, although I must confess that at the moment I don’t see how. I must trust that a suitable opportunity will present itself. Give me the packet, Tom.’

‘It must be something mighty important in that envelope, sir, for him to go to all this trouble,’ said Crabb, handing over the item to his superior.

‘One day I’ll tell you all about it. Be in good spirits, Tom. I’m
sure both Lucy and myself will be back in time for lunch.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then give me your hand, Tom – and wish me well.’

‘I do indeed, sir, with all my heart.’

The two men shook hands vigorously.

Ravenscroft stepped into the cab, after first giving instructions to the driver that he was to be taken to the British camp.

Crabb watched as the vehicle turned the corner at the top of the High Street and disappeared from view. As he made his way back to the station, feelings of despair and loneliness suddenly swept over him, as he realized that circumstances had combined against him to prevent him from assisting and protecting his colleague and friend. If only Ravenscroft had allowed him to shadow his progress on the hills, he was sure he would have been able to tackle the villain Cranston, but he had been sworn to inactivity. All he could do now was wait and hope.

Ravenscroft let out a deep sigh as the cab began its slow journey towards the camp. Shortly he would be reunited with Lucy. He knew that Cranston would not release her until he had handed over the envelope, but once he knew that his wife was safe, he would think of some way in which he could retrieve the papers and somehow destroy the diary to prevent it falling into the wrong hands. Perhaps Crabb had been right after all, and he should have secreted the pistol somewhere upon his person, but the more he ran over that course of action in his mind the more he was convinced that he was doing the right thing. He knew that his adversary was a dangerous, evil man, who would not have the slightest hesitation in killing Lucy if he in any way thought that Ravenscroft had broken his promise.

As they journeyed ever steadily upwards, he looked across the fields of corn. The London train was billowing out smoke as it made its way along the track that ran from Malvern and Colwall towards Ledbury – and he reflected on how his life had changed in the past few months. A year ago his daily round had brought him into contact with people of all nationalities and all stations in life. Pickpockets, thieves, prostitutes and villains of every description had crossed his path over the years. Sometimes the noise, smells and violence of Whitechapel had almost overpowered him in their
intensity. Now, looking back on that old life, he wondered what it had all been about, and what contribution he had actually made to making the area a better place in which to live – and it seemed that his busy existence then had little reason or meaning. But then all that had given way in recent months to the rural tranquillity of Ledbury, as he had been reunited with the only woman he had ever wanted in his life – and he had acquired a joy, contentment and purpose in life that he had never thought possible. Now, as the cab neared the end of its journey, he realized that this new life could shortly be taken away from him; that the happiness and love he had so tentatively secured could again slip away from his hands, leaving him bereft and alone once more.

The cab came to a sudden halt. Ravenscroft alighted and paid for his fare.

‘Want me to wait, governor?’ asked the cabman.

‘I don’t know how long I will be,’ replied Ravenscroft, at a loss for words.

‘Be over at the inn. Patch needs a rest, and I could do with a drink.’

‘Then we may well see one another again,’ said Ravenscroft.

He watched as the driver swung the cab across the road towards the inn that lay in the clearing between the hills, and then sought out the path that he knew would take him around the side of the Beacon Hill.

As the path took him upwards, he realized that in his haste and anxiety his breathing had become more laboured, and as his chest began to tighten he prayed that his old affliction would not now return to bring him down at this crucial hour. He paused for a moment by an old seat, to wipe away the sweat from his brow and to gaze upon the fields and hedgerows that stretched out across the wide landscape – and wondered whether his every move was being observed by Cranston from some higher vantage point.

Eventually his journey brought him on to the small plateau at the side of the hill, and quickly taking the path that ran along the ridge he eventually found himself standing outside the cave that he had visited on his previous visit to the hills. He had half expected to see Cranston emerging from the cave itself, but then remembered that the letter had instructed him to look for an old tin box within its interior.

He stepped into the cave and, adjusting his eyes to its darkness, he moved tentatively towards the back of the cavity until his boot suddenly came into contact with an old battered tin on the floor. He knelt down, picked up the container and removed the lid. Inside, he was relieved to discover a small piece of paper.

Retracing his steps into the daylight, he unfolded the sheet and read the words written there:

As he read the words, he realized that his hands were shaking and that his breathing was coming in short gasps. The fact that his beloved Lucy was but a short distance away from where he stood, and that his adversary was in all probability studying his every movement, made him all the more nervous and unsure. The knowledge that he was now facing the greatest challenge of his life had slowly sapped away his confidence and resolution but then as he refolded the paper and placed it within his coat pocket and walked purposely along the path, an inner strength began to build within him and slowly a new determination came to the fore.

Reaching the crossroads, he took the path on his left and after a few hundred yards saw the cottage coming into view. A thin trail of smoke was drifting upwards from its chimney. He paused for a moment to look all around him at the surrounding hills, to see whether Cranston was looking down upon him. Seeing no one, however, Ravenscroft concluded that his adversary was in all probability awaiting his arrival within the cottage itself, and he quickened his pace, anxious to see that no harm had befallen his wife.