‘You men, put that ruffian in the cart and stay with him whilst we go into the house,’ instructed Ravenscroft. ‘Come now Tom, let’s go and get that hand seen to.’
The two officers dragged the abusive farmer across to the cart, as Ravenscroft lead the way across the yard.
‘You won’t get away with this Ravenscroft!’ shouted Troutbridge as he was being bundled into the cart. ‘I’ll have the law on you!’ Ravenscroft ignored the remarks as he and Crabb opened the door of the farmhouse.
‘I suppose this must be the kitchen,’ said Ravenscroft surveying the piles of old papers, rags and jumble which seem to clutter every corner of the room. The table was covered with dirty plates and mugs, the remains of a half-eaten meal lying side by side with debris left over from previous meals. Ravenscroft walked over to the water and ladled some of its contents into an old cracked bowl which he found in the sink.
‘Lord it smells in here!’ said Crabb attempting to stem the flow of blood from his injured hand. ‘I think I prefer old Gladwyn’s surgery to this place.’
‘Put your hand in there Crabb,’ instructed Ravenscroft. ‘Now let’s see if I can find something to bind it with,’ he said searching through the old clothes on the floor.
Crabb placed his hand into the bowl, and began to wipe it with his handkerchief. It was not long before the water began to cloud over with the red liquid.
‘You’ve got a nasty gash there,’ said Ravenscroft tearing up an old sheet he had found. ‘Give me your wrist and I’ll bind it to stop the flow of blood. That should do until we can get it cleaned up better when we return to the station.’
After Crabb’s wrist had been attended to, the two men began to look around the room.
‘What a dreadful place to live in!. I have seen cleaner rooms than this in Whitechapel,’ said Ravenscroft. ‘How anyone can live in such filth. These plates look as though they have never been cleaned, and this food looks days old. This bread and cheese appear to have been the last meal eaten, but do you notice something Crabb?’
‘There are two plates set?’ suggested Crabb.
‘Exactly! Troutbridge shared his last meal with someone else.’
‘It could be his wife?’
‘I don’t think so. No woman would put up with this squalor. I think there is someone else in the house.’
‘You mean the face you saw at the window?’
The two men looked at one another.
‘Upstairs!’ said Ravenscroft. ‘But quietly. We don’t want to frighten him off.’
Ravenscroft crossed over to the staircase and began to make his way up the steps. ‘You stay here Crabb in case he comes down,’ he whispered.
Gaining the landing, Ravenscroft found himself confronted by two closed doors. He paused to listen for a moment, then with his boot, he pushed open the door to one of the rooms, but found it empty. Quickly he kicked open the second door.
‘So, Mr. Armitage we have caught up with you at last,’ he said addressing the lone figure who sat on the side of an old bed, staring up at him with a look of fear, as he entered the room.
‘Mr. Ravenscroft.’
‘You have given us a great deal of trouble Mr. Armitage. You will oblige me by accompanying me to the station sir,’ said Ravenscroft addressing his quarry.
Armitage stood up slowly and made his way across the room. As he neared Ravenscroft, he suddenly pushed him out of the way, darted from the room, and began to run down the stairs.
‘Crabb!’ yelled out Ravenscroft.
‘I have him sir,’ replied the constable as Ravenscroft raced down the steps.
‘Put the cuffs on him Crabb. Well Mr. Armitage that was rather a silly thing to do. We have been looking for you, for some days now. You have some questions to answer sir.’
‘I have committed no crime, inspector. You have no right to arrest me like this,’ said the indignant warden.
‘I think you will find that we have every right Mr. Armitage. If you are so innocent, what were you doing hiding upstairs, and why did you seek to run away from us?’
‘I have a perfect explanation for my presence here.’
‘That may be so sir, but for now you will oblige us by accompanying us to the station.’
Crabb cuffed the bedraggled Armitage and the trio made their way back to the police cart. ‘Put him in there with Troutbridge,’ instructed Ravenscroft. ‘Well gentlemen you have both certainly caused us problems this morning. Let us all return to the station and see what we can discover.’
Ravenscroft and Crabb faced Troutbridge across the table.
‘Now then Mr. Troutbridge what is your relationship to Mr. Armitage?’ began Ravenscroft.
Troutbridge stared down at the floor and remained silent.
‘What was Armitage doing at your farm? We found him hiding in the upstairs bedroom. He had clearly been there for several days. Were you sheltering him? I would advise you to answer, or it will be the worse for you.’
‘You shot my dog,’ snapped Troutbridge, glaring at his questioner.
‘Your dog was attacking constable Crabb at the time. If I had not shot him, my constable would have been seriously injured, possibly killed, and you would have been facing a murder charge,’ said Ravenscroft firmly, knowing that he would be facing an uphill struggle to discover the truth.
‘There was no need to have shot him.’
‘There was every reason to shoot him. You had ample opportunity to call the dog off, and you chose not to do so. You had no business keeping such a ferocious animal in the first place. Things are looking very black for you Troutbridge.’
Troutbridge shrugged his shoulders and glowered, as Ravenscroft continued. ‘You are facing serious charges — failure to restrain a savage animal, unleashing such an animal, attacking a police officer. The local justices will not take kindly to that kind of behaviour. You already have a bad reputation in the county. Oh yes, we have been checking up on you. You are well known to our colleagues in Ledbury, who inform us that you have been up before the bench on two previous occasions. I would say that things are looking very grim for you Troutbridge unless you co-operate with us. Now I want some answers to my questions, or you could find yourself up on a murder charge.’
‘You shot my dog,’ repeated Troutbridge angrily, but Ravenscroft ignored his last remark.
‘How long have you known Armitage?’ he asked.
‘I’ve never seen him, before he came to my house.’
‘When was that?’ asked Crabb.
‘Last Monday.’
‘What did he want?’ asked Ravenscroft leaning forwards.
‘Said he had been driven out of his house, and could he stay with me for a few days, until he could go back like,’ replied the farmer grudgingly.
‘And you let him stay — a complete stranger who you had never seen before? You let him stay in your house?’
‘He paid me to stay. He said he would be gone by the end of the week.’
‘You are in the habit of accommodating strangers in your home. I find that very difficult to accept.’
‘If they pays. What’s wrong with that?’
‘Can’t think why anyone would want to stay in your rat infested hole,’ said Crabb displaying a tougher, sarcastic side that Ravenscroft had not seen before in his colleague.
‘Well I tell you I don’t believe a word of it. I think you have known Mr. Armitage for at least three years. You will no doubt be surprised to learn that your name appears every month in the accounts of Old Lechmere’s Almshouses in Colwall,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘I don’t know nothin about any old almshouses,’ protested Troutbridge sitting back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling.
‘Don’t play innocent with me Troutbridge. You were paid the sum of one pound and ten shillings every month for the past three years. Now I want to know why — and if I don’t get the right answer, I’ll put you away for so long, your farm will have crumbled down to a pile of old dust by the time you get out of prison, if you ever get out!’ said Ravenscroft raising his voice.
‘I’ve told you, I know nothing about any sums of money,’ replied Troutbridge in his usual aggressive tone.