‘Mister Ravenscroft.’ The speaker was a young lady of striking appearance and auburn hair, whom Ravenscroft judged to be of around twenty-five years of age.
‘I presume I have the honour of addressing Miss Armitage?’ said Ravenscroft.
‘You do sir. How can I help you?’
‘Your brother, is I believe, the warden of the almshouses at Colwall?’
‘Yes. Has something happened to James?’ she asked suddenly becoming alarmed. ‘Has he met with an accident of some kind?’
‘No. Your brother has not met with an accident. He is well as far as we know.’
‘That is a relief. Please do sit down gentlemen.’
Ravenscroft accepted a seat by the table and looked around him. The room was light and airy, being comfortably but simply furnished, with light colourful carpets and curtains. A small piano stood in one corner, upon which stood two vases of flowers and a framed photograph of a group of people. A round table and chairs were situated in the centre of the room, and a small but welcoming fire on one of the walls gave out a bright glow. Ravenscroft felt that its occupier had given the arrangement of the room a great deal of thought, and the more he gazed around him, the more it seemed to him to be a place full of peace and calm, free from the cares of the outside world — almost a sanctuary.
‘I should perhaps explain Miss Armitage why we have called upon you. Your brother is not here I suppose?’
‘I have not seen my brother since last week,’ said the lady of the house resuming her seat.
‘Constable Crabb and I are investigating the deaths of two prominent members of Malvern society. One of them was Mr. Jabez Pitzer, who lived at Malvern Wells, the other a Doctor Sommersby who was the Assistant Master at Malvern College. Were you acquainted with either of these two gentlemen Miss Armitage?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘No, the gentlemen are unfamiliar to me, inspector.’
‘Did your brother ever mention their names?’
‘I don’t believe so,’ she answered, looking puzzled by his questions.
‘They were both trustees of the almshouses, Miss Armitage.’
‘Ah, I see. I suppose my brother may then have mentioned them in passing. He often talks about the almshouses, but I am afraid I have no recollection of the names. I am sorry.’
‘How often does your brother come to visit you?’ asked Ravenscroft trying not to be too forthright in his questioning.
‘He usually calls upon me on a Saturday morning. He stays for a few hours. We go out into the town, have lunch here, talk together, and sometimes if it as a fine day we will go onto the hills.’
‘Forgive the intrusion Miss Armitage, but I could not help noticing the photograph. The people — they are other members of your family?’
‘It was taken a few years ago, before my parents unfortunately died,’ she replied walking over to the piano and bringing the photograph over so that Ravenscroft might see it. ‘That is my father, and there is my mother,’ she said pointing to the figures in the picture. ‘We lived in Gloucestershire, near Fairford. After my parents died, James was fortunate enough to secure the position of warden at the almshouses. Naturally I could not share his abode there, so I came here to Ledbury and rented this cottage.’ Ravenscroft thought he could discern a strange note of sadness in her voice.
‘You have private means to support yourself? Forgive the question my dear lady,’ said Ravenscroft beginning to feel uncomfortable with his intrusive questioning.
‘I have a number of pupils who call upon me during the week. I give lessons in piano and some writing. My brother also assists me from time to time, but his income from the almshouses is fairly limited.’
‘You like Ledbury miss?’ inquired Crabb.
‘Yes. It is a very fine town. I have made many friends here,’ she replied smiling.
‘I am glad of it Miss Armitage. We spoke with your brother yesterday at the almshouses, but when we returned this morning we found that he had not been seen there since yesterday evening. If he is not here, can you think of anywhere else where he might be, anywhere at all?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘No. I know James likes walking on the hills. We sometimes take a cab together up to the British Camp and walk down to Eastnor through the park. Is my brother in any kind of trouble?’
‘No, not at all my dear lady,’ replied Ravenscroft seeking to relieve her anxiety. ‘We merely need to ask him some more questions concerning the affairs of the almshouses. Your brother mentioned that the accounts of the almshouses are kept here?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why is that so?’
‘James, my brother, said there had been a burglary at the almshouses recently, and that the books would perhaps be safer if they were kept here. He was anxious that they would not fall into the wrong hands, and worried that he would be in trouble with the trustees, if they were lost.’
‘I wonder whether it would be possible if Constable Crabb and I looked at the books, if you have no objection, Miss Armitage?’
‘Yes, of course. They are over here, in the bureau.’
Ravenscroft watched as their hostess walked over to the piece of furniture, opened the lid and took out a large ledger which she placed on the table.
‘Perhaps you would like some tea?’
‘That would be most welcome,’ replied Ravenscroft.
‘I will leave you two gentlemen to your business, while I go and see to the tea.’
Ravenscroft rose from his seat as Miss Armitage left the room.
‘A very pleasant young lady,’ whispered Crabb.
His superior shrugged his shoulders, smiled briefly, and opened the ledger.
‘Now what have we here,’ he said looking at the first page. ‘1850. That’s too early. Let us try further on’. He turned over a few more pages, ‘1872. Further on. Armitage came three years ago. Yes here we are. 1884. See how the handwriting changes. This must be where the old warden died, or left, and Armitage took over Crabb. Now let us see. On this side of the page we have the income, which appears to be in the form of regular sums, probably issued every three months or so, by the trustees I would suspect. On this side we have the expenditure. Let’s see what kind of money is going out. Various items on food, bills paid to local traders, then personal items — new bonnet for Martha Turner, new pair of shoes to Thomas Mason, and so on.’
‘Nothing particularly startling there sir — and both sides of the books seem to balance,’ said Crabb leaning over Ravenscroft’s shoulder.
‘It would appear that way, and yet there must be something. Let’s proceed on over the months.’ Ravenscroft turned the pages and ran his finger down the column of figures. ‘This is unusual. See here Crabb. 1885. February. Troutbridge?1-10s. — and again for March, Troutbridge?1-10s. See, it is the same again for the next month, and the next.’ He turned over yet more pages. ‘Yes, here we are again. Every month, the same sum, paid out on the 7th of the month to this Troutbridge. Ah, here we have an initial D. D Troutbridge. I wonder who this D.Troutbridge can possibly be? Paid as regular as clockwork But not once does it say what the payment is for.’
‘Looks as though we may have uncovered something here sir,’ said Crabb.
‘It requires further investigation, certainly. There may be a perfect logical explanation for the payments.’
‘Or our mister Armitage was paying himself out of the money?’
‘Shush Crabb, I think Miss Armitage is returning.’
The door opened, and the lady in question entered, followed by her maid carrying a large tray.
‘Did you find what you were looking for gentlemen?’
‘Yes, thank you Miss Armitage,’ replied Ravenscroft closing the ledger and walking over to the table.
‘Good. Do sit down gentlemen. That will be all Sally. I’ll serve the tea. How do you like your tea Mr. Ravenscroft?’
‘Lemon and a little sugar thank you miss,’ replied Ravenscroft.
‘And you Constable?’