The Pershore Poisoners (3 page)

‘Of course all this could be a complete waste of time, Tom. You realize that.’

‘The lad’s been right in the past, sir.’

‘It all seems a bit too fanciful for me. However, it’s a fine day, no crimes committed overnight, and we have nothing else to occupy our minds at the present, so it will do no harm to make inquiries,’ added Ravenscroft as the trap made its way along the country lanes that lead from Ledbury towards the county town of Pershore.

‘So Stebbins never saw the body then?’ asked Constable Crabb as he encouraged the horse to quicken his pace.

‘No. It is all rather second-hand evidence, passed on by the scullery maid to Stebbins, and no doubt embellished by him. We shall probably discover that the dead man died from eating the Brown Windsor soup after all, and that there is nothing for us to investigate,’ said Ravenscroft.

‘Funny thing, soup. You never know what’s in it, ‘specially the cloudy ones.’

Ravenscroft smiled as the trap crossed the Severn at Upton.

An hour later the horse and trap made its way through the busy market place with its stalls and groups of people, and along the main street of the town lined with its elegant Georgian buildings and coaching inns, until Crabb pulled up the horse outside
a drab looking building at the end of the road.

‘Let us go and see what the local men have found out,’ said Ravenscroft alighting from the trap and pushing open the door of the police station.

‘No one about,’ remarked Crabb following on behind and looking around the empty office.

Ravenscroft called out, and upon receiving no reply, the two men entered the smaller inner room.

‘No wonder the office was unattended,’ said Ravenscroft looking down at the armchair where a stocky, ruddy-faced, uniformed figure lay snoring loudly.

‘Must have had a late night, sir,’ smiled Crabb.

‘Confound the fellow. Wake up, man!’ shouted Ravenscroft.

The figure merely made a grunting sound before continuing with his deep snores.

‘This is intolerable!’ exclaimed Ravenscroft leaning forwards and pushing the man’s shoulder with a violent shove.

‘Eh … what … the deuce …’ stuttered the uniformed officer.

‘Wake up, man. Pull yourself together!’ instructed Ravenscroft.

‘What? Oh sorry, sir,’ replied the man springing to his feet. ‘I’m sorry, sir. You must forgive me. How can I help you, sir?’

‘Don’t you know that such conduct is a gross dereliction of duty?’ reprimanded Ravenscroft.

‘Sorry, sir. And you are?’

‘Ravenscroft. You have heard of me? Detective Inspector Ravenscroft.’

‘Oh my God!’ exclaimed the embarrassed policeman growing even redder in the face as he quickly brushed down his tunic with his hands and attempted to straighten out his collar. ‘I’m sorry, sir. Please excuse me. I don’t know what came over me.’

‘You know you can be sacked for this,’ joined in Crabb.

‘Yes, I’m sorry, sir. It will not happen again I can assure you. This has never happened before. You must—’

‘Stop babbling on, man,’ said an annoyed Ravenscroft.

‘Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.’

‘Who are you?’

‘Hoskings, sir. P.C. Hoskings,’ replied the policeman shuffling his feet and growing even redder in the face.

‘Well, Hoskings, where is Sergeant Braithwaite?’

‘Away, sir.’

‘Away?’

‘Ill, sir. Laid up with a broken leg in Worcester Infirmary, sir.’

‘I see. So you are in charge?’

‘Yes sir. Until they can find a replacement.’

‘Well Hoskings, I suppose you will have to do. Now what can you tell Constable Crabb and myself about this poisoning case?’ asked Ravenscroft.

‘Poisoning case? Oh yes, sir. Nasty case of food poisoning at Talbots Lodging House. Everyone ate the soup and was ill afterwards. Brown Windsor I believe. Only one gent ate too much and died as a result. Wonder they didn’t all die.’

‘And you went to investigate?’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Well, what happened, man?’

‘Doctor Homer was already there when I arrived. The man was lying on his bed. He was quite dead. Seemed he had eaten too much of the soup.’

‘Only he hadn’t,’ interjected Crabb.

‘Go on,’ urged Ravenscroft.

‘Well, I … er … interviewed Mr Talbot, that’s the owner of the lodging house, who confirmed that they had all been ill through drinking the soup, then we called in Johnsons’ the
undertakers and they took the deceased away. That was all there was to it, sir.’

‘I believe there was probably a lot more to it, Hoskings. That is what we have come to find out. Did you interview any of the other members of the party?’

‘No, sir. Didn’t see the need to, sir. Seemed a straightforward case.’

‘That will be for us to judge.’

‘Yes, sir. Of course, sir.’

‘We understand that you took a sample of the soup away with you?’ asked Ravenscroft.

‘Er … well sir … I … er.’

‘For goodness sake, man, did you, or did you not, take away a sample of the soup for further investigation?’ asked Ravenscroft becoming annoyed.

‘Yes sir,’ replied Hoskings looking sheepishly down at his boots.

‘Well, man, where is it then?’

‘I’m afraid there was an accident, sir.’

‘Accident? What do you mean an accident? Speak up, man.’

‘Sorry, sir. I was carrying the jar back to the police station when it slipped out of my hand and fell to the ground. I’m afraid there is none of the soup left. I’m very sorry, sir. I couldn’t help it, sir.’

‘Good gracious, man!’ exclaimed Ravenscroft. ‘That could have been valuable evidence.’

‘I’m sorry, sir.’

‘Your carelessness may have profound consequences for the investigation of this case.’

‘Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.’

‘And stop saying you’re sorry all the time,’ said Ravenscroft, glaring.

‘No, sir. Sorry, sir, I mean yes, sir.’

‘All right. Now we understand that the man is due to be buried this afternoon. I presume the body is still at the undertakers. You best come with us and show us the way.’

‘I’m sorry, sir. The deceased was buried this morning.’

‘What do you mean, he was buried this morning? It has only just gone twelve,’ said Ravenscroft feeling more and more frustrated.

‘Buried earlier this morning, sir. About two hours ago, I believe,’ muttered the crestfallen policeman.

‘For goodness sake!’ exclaimed Ravenscroft. ‘If we had known this, Tom, we would have come earlier. Confound it!’

‘We will have to get an exhumation order, sir,’ offered Crabb.

‘On what grounds, Tom? We don’t even know if someone deliberately poisoned the man, or whether it was the soup after all that killed him. We will never be able to obtain an order. So now we have no corpse, and now that Police Constable Hoskings here has destroyed all the evidence, we have nothing to go on at all!’ said a dispirited Ravenscroft.

‘I’m sorry, sir.’

‘Look Hoskings, when you entered the dead man’s bedroom, did you notice anything unusual there?’

‘Unusual, sir?’ asked the perplexed constable.

‘Yes, Hoskings. Were there any signs that a struggle had taken place?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Did you observe any bottles or other medicine on the bedside cabinet for instance?’

‘I don’t think so, sir. I didn’t really notice …’ trailed off Hoskings.

‘For goodness sake. Come, Crabb, I can see that we are wasting our time here. We shall have to go and visit this Talbots lodging house for ourselves and see if we can arrive at the truth of the matter.’

‘What would you like me to do, sir?’ asked Hoskings.

‘Nothing, Hoskings. You had better remain here. I think you have done more than enough as far as this case is concerned.’

‘Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.’

‘If you want something to do, you can clean up this room. It looks a mess, man. Then you can tidy yourself up as well,’ said Ravenscroft beginning to leave.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And Hoskings—’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘Try not to fall asleep again.’

‘No, sir.’

A few minutes later Ravenscroft and Crabb made their way up the road that took them away from the centre of the town and onwards towards a large, shabby, four-storeyed, half-timbered building situated at the end of a driveway where they found a faded and chipped sign bearing the words
TALBOTS
’ in large letters swinging somewhat precariously over the front door.

Ravenscroft grasped the large bellpull and was rewarded by the sound of ringing somewhere in the distance.

‘Looks as though the place has seen better days,’ said Crabb glancing apprehensively at the sign above their heads.

‘Good morning, sir,’ said a young red-headed, sallow-faced girl opening the door.

‘Good morning,’ replied Ravenscroft removing his hat. ‘I wonder if I might have a word with your master, Mr Talbot?’

‘Yes, sir. If you would care to wait a moment, sir, I will go and get him for you,’ said the maid disappearing down what appeared to be a long hallway.

‘I wonder if she is Stebbin’s girl, Maisie?’ whispered Crabb.

A few moments later a small, thin, shabbily dressed man made his way along the hallway towards the policemen. ‘Good
morning, sir. I expect you have come to see the room. It will be ready shortly, and at only six shillings a week including all meals, and a change of linen on Mondays. You will find nothing better in Pershore, I can assure you.’

‘No Mr Talbot, we have not come about the room. My name is Detective Inspector Ravenscroft, and this is my colleague Constable Crabb.’

‘I see. Forgive me, I had not observed your constable’s attire.’

‘Who is it, Talbot?’ boomed a loud voice from somewhere at the far end of the hallway.

‘It is the police, my dear,’ replied the lodging-house owner forcing a brief smile through clenched teeth.

‘Tell them to go away, Talbot. Room ain’t available yet. Tell them someone has already been and made enquiries,’ continued the voice.

‘I know that Constable Hoskings has called upon you already, but the matter has now reached a more senior level,’ said Ravenscroft.

‘What’s that?’ shouted the voice.

‘Gent says he needs to make further enquiries. Something about a more senior level—’ began Talbot.

‘What senior level?’ asked the owner of the voice suddenly emerging from the interior of the building and striding towards the front door.

‘Good morning. I take it I have the honour of addressing Mrs Talbot?’ said Ravenscroft somewhat taken aback by the large, red-faced, buxom woman who seemed now to occupy the whole width of the front doorway and who stared at him, in what he considered to be an unfriendly manner.

‘Talbot and I have told everything there is to tell – and that’s an end to it. Close the door, Talbot,’ instructed the woman casting a dismissive glance at Ravenscroft before turning upon her heel.

‘I am sorry, but Mrs Talbot has spoken,’ said the small man in a nervous way as he began to close the door on the two policemen.

‘I am afraid that I must insist on speaking to you both,’ said Ravenscroft placing his foot in the doorway. ‘I can of course return with a warrant. There have been certain irregularities.’

‘Irregularities!’ said Mrs Talbot quickly returning to the scene. ‘Irregularities? What irregularities? I’ll have you know that Talbot and I run a very respectable establishment here. You’ll find none of your irregularities here.’

‘I’m sure not, Mrs Talbot. Your establishment comes very highly recommended,’ replied Ravenscroft seeking to placate the formidable woman.

‘Highly recommended? Who says so?’ asked Mrs Talbot.

‘Er … the Duke of Welshpool,’ stammered Ravenscroft.

‘Did you hear that, Mrs Talbot. The Duke of Welshpool no less,’ said the lodging-house owner.

‘He was most complimentary,’ added Ravenscroft attempting to smile.

‘Don’t remember no Duke of Welshpool staying here,’ said the woman in a more conciliatory tone.

‘I believe it was a few years ago, before he inherited the title,’ continued Ravenscroft anxious to obtain access to the building.

‘Highly recommended you say?’

‘Yes indeed, ma’am. The best lodging house for miles, he said. He particularly praised the cooking,’ continued Ravenscroft realizing that he was now slowly gaining the advantage.

‘Did you hear that, my dear. I have always said your cooking could not be bettered, and that it would bring us fame and fortune one day,’ said Talbot.

‘We just wanted to ask you a few questions concerning your late guest,’ said Ravenscroft easing himself slowly into the hall.
‘The constable who visited you failed to carry out the correct procedures. The fault is not on your part, I can assure you. We have been asked to clarify one or two points. I am sure we will not detain you for more than a few minutes or so.’

The landlady stared hard at Ravenscroft.

‘It can do no harm, my dear,’ said Talbot.

‘Very well then. You better come into the dining room,’ sighed his wife.

‘Thank you,’ replied Ravenscroft as he and Crabb followed the couple down the long corridor and into a large room.

‘You best take a seat,’ instructed Mrs Talbot indicating one of the chairs gathered round a large mahogany table.

‘Thank you. What a pleasant room,’ lied Ravenscroft glancing around at the simple furniture and drab wallpaper, before looking up at the large faded print, depicting a battle scene, that hung above the fire place.

‘Inkerman,’ pronounced Mrs Talbot observing Ravenscroft’s interest. ‘Tell them, Talbot, you was there.’

‘You were at Inkerman?’ asked Ravenscroft.

‘Go on tell them,’ instructed the landlady.

‘I am sure that the inspector has not come here today to talk about the war, my dear. How can we help you?’ asked Talbot, hastily changing the subject.

‘I wonder if you could tell us something about your late guest, Mr Talbot?’ asked Ravenscroft.

‘Very little I’m afraid, inspector. Mr Jones was not with us very long. He arrived just over a week ago. He was not a man of many words. He kept very much to himself,’ replied Talbot.