The Tewkesbury Tomb (18 page)

‘Keep back, Ravenscroft, or I’ll kill the lady,’ shouted Ross. ‘Tell them all to keep back! I mean what I say.’

Miss Eames attempted to let out a cry as she struggled to free herself from her assailant’s grasp.

‘It’s all over, Ross. We know what really happened in Afghanistan,’ replied Ravenscroft, raising his arm to indicate that Crabb and the others were to stand back.

‘You know nothing!’ sneered Ross.

‘We know that your brother was unjustly vilified.’

‘Then you know why I have to avenge his death.’

‘Your brother died as the result of a hunting accident,’ said Ganniford.

‘Lies! Lies! You, Ganniford, and the rest of them killed him!’

‘I swear it was an accident. His gun discharged itself. We had nothing to do with it,’ said an agitated Ganniford.

‘Lies! Lies! You miserable man.’

‘Let Miss Eames go,’ said Ravenscroft, observing that Crabb and Reynolds had slowly moved out to his right and left sides. ‘She has done your family no harm. She was not even there that weekend.’

‘She is the daughter of Colonel Eames and will die in his place,’ retorted Ross tightening his grip on the struggling lady and drawing the knife nearer to her throat.

‘For goodness’ sake, man, you know it is all over. Let Miss Eames go. You can’t take all five of us. We are too many for you.’

Ross looked frantically from side to side. ‘Tell them to keep
back!’ he yelled.

‘It’s all finished, man. Give me the knife,’ instructed Ravenscroft taking a step forward.

‘I warn you, Ravenscroft, keep back all of you,’ shouted Ross.

‘Let me have a go at him!’ shouted Stebbins, suddenly running towards the couple.

‘Stebbins! Keep back!’ yelled Ravenscroft.

As the boy dived for Ross’s legs, Miss Eames suddenly broke free, and Crabb and Reynolds ran in and quickly wrestled the man to the ground.

‘Put the cuffs on him, Crabb. You silly boy, you could have had Miss Eames killed,’ said Ravenscroft reprimanding Stebbins.

A sobbing Miss Eames ran into Ganniford’s arms.

‘Always go for the legs, my old dad used to say. The legs, my boy, that’s where they least expect it.’

‘One of these days, Stebbins, your impetuosity will lead you to meet an untimely end.’

‘Not yet though eh, Mr Ravenscroft?’ smiled a triumphant Stebbins.

‘What shall we do with him, sir?’ enquired Reynolds, as he and Crabb raised a defeated Ross to his feet.

‘Confound you, Ravenscroft,’ muttered a dishevelled Ross.

‘So, Mr Ross, we have you at last. Take him to the station, Crabb. I will deal with him later.’

Ravenscroft entered the room. Ross, seated at the table, turned and stared out of the window, his face expressionless.

‘Well, Mr Ross, what have you to say for yourself?’ asked Ravenscroft drawing up the other chair, while Crabb moved to the corner of the room and took out his notebook.

His prisoner said nothing.

‘Silence will do you no good, Mr Ross. I need to hear your side of the story.’

‘Story! This is not a story,’ snapped Ross, turning suddenly in Ravenscroft’s direction and thumping his fist hard down on the table. ‘The honour of my family has been tainted. Don’t you understand that?’

‘Then why do you not try and explain it to me, Mr Ross?’

‘You would not understand. There is no point,’ said Ross, slumping back in the chair.

‘I know that the deaths of four men lie at your door,’ retorted Ravenscroft, regretting the words of provocation as soon as he
had spoken them.

‘My brother was a good man. I grew up admiring him for his courage, his bravery and his honour. I worshipped the very ground that he stood on. He was everything to me, don’t you understand? All I wanted to do, Ravenscroft, was to join his regiment when I came of age, so that I could prove myself half the man he was.’

‘Go on,’ urged Ravenscroft.

‘The regiment went to India. Then we heard about that terrible massacre by those murdering Afghans. Over fifty men, women and children were slaughtered that day. Do you know that they even cut off the children’s heads and stuck them on pikes? Some of them were as young as three. What kind of man does that? What they did to the women was even worse. Unspeakable! And my brother was the only one to survive. They said that he had deserted his post, had left all the others to be butchered. Can you imagine the disgrace, Ravenscroft? Our friends in society would not speak to us. People spat at us when we crossed the street. When Charles returned home, after he had been thrown out the army, my father and mother would have nothing to do with him, so Charles left the home where he had been born and raised. We heard later that he had purchased a house near Bredon. God knows why he went there. He just wanted to be alone, I suppose; to escape from everyone and everything.

‘Then we heard that he had been killed at a shooting party. I shed no tears. Perhaps he had done the honourable thing in the end – taken the easy way out and shot himself. My dear mother who had never hurt anyone in her life, died of a broken heart. Her dying wish was that I should join the regiment and restore the family honour. So that is what I did, and for three years I went to fight in India – but do you know something, my fellow
officers hated and despised me. They said I came from a coward’s family; that my brother had bought dishonour and disgrace to the regiment, and that I would pay for his actions. For three years I had to endure their insults and mockery. Do you know what that felt like? To be treated like an outcast, to be given the foulest of food, to be sent on the worst of engagements, to be sneered at and humiliated. And, worst of all, I did not complain. Never once did I complain. It was, after all, my penance. I had to suffer for the disgrace that my brother had bought on us all. I’m sorry, can I have some water?’ gasped Ross, tears of anger beginning to form in his eyes.

‘Of course. Crabb, bring the prisoner a glass of water, if you will,’ instructed Ravenscroft.

The two men sat in silence until Crabb returned to the room bearing a jug of water. Ravenscroft poured out some of the liquid into a glass. Ross seized it and gulped it down.

‘When you are ready to continue,’ said Ravenscroft, leaning back in his chair once more.

‘One evening, Major Anstruther, who was in our regiment, became the worse for drink, boasted how he and the others – Ganniford, Jenkins, Hollinger and Colonel Eames, had persuaded Lord Treaves to invite my brother to his estate for the weekend, and how they cornered him in that field and confronted him with his cowardice. Anstruther laughed when he told how they had forced my brother to kneel before them and beg for his own life, how they had mocked him and humiliated him and then shot him, and how they all swore an oath to make the whole thing look like an accident. And do you know, Ravenscroft, when I heard that man bragging and boasting in his intoxicated state, I kind of admired him? At least he and the others had done something to avenge the deaths of all those innocent men, women and children. After all, my brother had
betrayed them all in order to save his own skin,’ said Ross, becoming increasingly animated and staring round the room with a look of wide-eyed desperation.

Ravenscroft replenished his prisoner’s glass, then looked across at Crabb who was busily engaged in taking notes.

‘Then one day everything changed. I came across an old Sikh, who wandered into the garrison. He had heard that a soldier of the name of Ross was there and asked to speak with him. When I approached the man, however, he said that I was not Captain Ross. I explained to him that I was his brother, and that Charles was dead. Then he told me what had really happened on that day. He had seen it all – how the party had been ambushed in the hills by the Afghans – how my brother had quickly organized the defence, killing many of the attackers as he did so, fighting bravely in a futile attempt to save the lives of the others, until he received a blow on the back of his head and was knocked unconscious. They must have thought they had killed him and left him for dead. How Charles survived the slaughter I do not know. When the murdering cutthroats had left, the old Sikh, who had been observing events from behind a rock, scoured the battlefield for survivors, where he found my brother still alive, but badly injured, and took him back to his own village where the people of his tribe cared for him. It was some weeks before my brother was fit enough to leave and return to his regiment – but, of course, news of the massacre had spread by then, and everyone in the regiment had assumed that Charles had deserted his post. There was no one who could confirm what had really happened, and despite his attempts to assert his own innocence in the affair, he was entirely discredited and forced out of the army. So you see, Ravenscroft, my brother was never the coward they all said he was. He had fought with honour and with bravery.’

Ross paused from his narrative and reached out again for the water and bought the glass to his lips with trembling hands.

‘God, how they had all chosen to disbelieve him! Eames and Anstruther had already left the regiment and returned home before I learned the truth. Once the old man had told everyone the true account of what had really happened that day, the new colonel of the regiment restored my brother’s honour – but by then it was all too late, he had been killed by Anstruther and the others all those years before. Both my parents had died believing that their son had bought dishonour to the family, when in fact the opposite was the case. Worst of all, I had joined in the condemnation, believing in my brother’s betrayal.’

‘What did you do next?’ asked Ravenscroft intently.

‘I resigned my commission and returned home. I did not know what else I could do to restore my brother’s honour. People in Kirkintilloch still believed in Charles’s guilt. So, I decided to move to Bredon’s Norton where I knew that Charles had purchased a house and some land shortly before his death. There I tried to put the past behind me, but however much I tried, I could not. Somehow I had betrayed my brother by my own condemnation. It was as if I had been there that day when he had been shot. Then I became angry when I remembered the words of Anstruther and how he and the others had humiliated and degraded my brother before they had killed him in such a brutal fashion, and I knew that the honour of my brother and my family could only be restored by the deaths of those men who had bought about Charles’s death. At first I thought it would be a simple matter just to kill them all one at a time, but then I realized that would be far too easy. I wanted them each to know the fear and terror as their companions were killed one by one, wondering when it would be their turn to pay for the death of my brother!’

‘I think I can understand that,’ said Ravenscroft, knowing that he would need to offer some words of encouragement so that the full confession could be obtained.

‘You have no idea how I felt; how the anger increased inside me; how all I wanted was revenge on those who had killed my brother. But how was I to bring all these people together? Then I learned of the legend of Sir Roger de la Pole here in the abbey and of the treasure he had bought back with him from the Holy Land, and I saw a way in which they could all be reunited. So I engaged the services of an old schoolfriend of mine.’

‘Crosbie,’ interjected Ravenscroft.

‘You know him by that name. He had fallen on hard times. His employer, a lawyer, had recently died and he was without employment. I outlined my plan to him – how we would bring the six of them here to Tewkesbury and use them to discover the hiding place of the old templar’s treasure. Of course, I did not tell him my true intentions. So, I compiled the chart, showing how each of them was descended from Sir Roger de la Pole and Crosbie began his work visiting each of them in turn and baiting the trap. We were careful that Crosbie chose a new name for each person he visited.’

‘The novels of Anthony Trollope,’ added Ravenscroft.

‘Ah, you spotted that.’

‘It was my wife who saw the connection.’

‘And so they all came that night here to Tewkesbury lured by greed and expectation, swarming like bees round a honey pot. I had told them to meet each other outside the abbey at midnight. At first I knew that they would not recognize me in the dark, and with my face partially concealed, but I knew that it would not take them long to realize that Charles Ross had returned from the grave,’ laughed Ross slumping backwards in his chair.

‘Why did you then kill Crosbie?’ asked Ravenscroft.

‘He had performed his role well. Earlier that evening we had entered the abbey and had together prised open the lid of the coffin. If there was any treasure to be found, then we might as well acquire it for ourselves. I encouraged Crosbie to climb inside the sarcophagus, but there was only a few bones. It was then that I killed him. You see, I could not afford to let him go. He knew too much and might betray me before my plan could be carried out. Then I tried to pull the cover back on the coffin, but it was too heavy for me to move alone. I realized that it would be interesting if I left things the way they were, so that the others would feel uneasy upon finding the dead man inside the coffin, and would begin to wonder why the man who had been instrumental in bringing them there was now dead. When I met the others later, I quickly slipped into the darkness and watched as they found his body inside the tomb. When your constable arrived and confronted them, I took the opportunity to leave the abbey unseen by anyone. I watched as you arrived the next day and began your questioning, but I knew that none of them would tell you the real reason for their visit here.’

‘How did you come to kill Hollinger?’

‘I decided that my first victim would be Hollinger. Shortly after he retired I crept into his room and killed him. It was so easy. He was just lying there. He did not even hear me enter the room. I decided that Anstuther would also die that night, but when I went to his room, I found that he had already left. The man had always been a coward. Perhaps he had realized that his life was in danger and had decided to leave before I could extract my revenge. It looked as though my plan would be thwarted, but then I decided that if I left my bloodstained clothes in his room it would look as though he had committed the murder, and you would do everything in your power to look for him and bring him back here. When your officers brought him back and you
began your questioning, I knew that I would have to act quickly. I couldn’t risk Anstruther telling you about the killing of my brother, so when you were away and your constable was taking him his food, I slipped into the front office with the poisoned drink, making sure that no one saw me. It was all so ridiculously easy. I was only sorry that I was not there in person to see him die. The man had been a braggart and waster all his life!’

Ravenscroft poured out more water for his prisoner.

‘I knew now that the others would know that I had killed their companions – but I was also confident that they would never tell you about that weekend when my brother had been shot. If they had told you the truth they would have had to admit their own part in his murder.’

‘How did you kill Jenkins?’ asked Ravenscroft.

‘That was easy. I knew that all I had to do was to wait for the right opportunity when one of them would be alone. When Jenkins left the inn, I made sure that he saw me walking down towards the river. I knew that his curiosity would get the better of him. All I had to do was wait for him to reach the river, creep up behind him and strike the back of his head, before throwing him over the weir.’

‘And poor Miss Eames would have been your next victim?’

‘Yes, but then, of course, you had at last unravelled the truth. The rest you know. Do you know something, Ravenscroft? I am glad that I managed to kill Hollinger, Anstruther and Jenkins. They deserved to die for their part in my brother’s death and for the blackening of my families name. My only regret is that I was not able to kill that windbag Ganniford and that insipid Eames woman. I feel that I have only partly avenged my brother!’

‘Miss Eames played no part in your brother’s death,’ said Ravenscroft, observing that his prisoner had begun shaking uncontrollably.

‘Eames was dead, it was only right that his daughter should stand in his place!’ snapped Ross.

‘Good God, man, do you have no remorse? You are responsible for the deaths of four men,’ retorted Revenscroft.

‘Remorse! You say that I should show some regret for my actions? What pity did they show to my brother when they cornered him in that field?’ replied Ross, burying his face in his hands. ‘Charles fought with honour and with gallantry to save the lives of those men, women and children, but he was branded a coward and killed in a brutal cowardly fashion! Surely you can see that? What will happen to me, now?’