The two men walked back to their waiting cab.
‘He seems very sure of himself, and he didn’t like it when he thought you might be taking the Antiphoner from him,’ said Crabb.
‘Our Dr Renfrew has an answer for everything. I have the distinct impression that he either stole the book from the cathedral library, or purchased it from someone else who took it. In which case, this paper is almost certainly a forgery. Did you notice how quickly he found the receipt amongst his papers? It was almost as though he knew we would be arriving and had his story and this paper to hand,’ said Ravenscroft, patting the horse before climbing into the cab.
‘I can’t say I liked him much. He was too full of his own importance if you ask me. Don’t trust these Americans,’ said Crabb.
‘Where to now, governor?’ asked their driver cracking his whip.
‘Back to Worcester if you please.’
‘Didn’t like the look of that Italian fellow either. Looked a bit suspicious to me,’ added Crabb.
‘I agree. Not the kind of man you would want to cross swords with in a dark alley late at night.’
Ten minutes later, the two men alighted from the cab and made their way over to Glovers Lodging-house, where Crabb banged his fist on the door.
‘Lord above if it ain’t the peelers again,’ muttered Mrs Glover, reluctantly opening the door.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Mrs Glover. We wondered whether Mr Cranston has returned from London?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘He came in about ten minutes ago.’
‘Then may we come in and have a word with him, if you please?’
The old woman said nothing, allowing them to enter and make their way up the stairs.
Ravenscroft knocked on the door to Cranston’s rooms.
‘Coming, Mrs Glover,’ shouted the voice from within. There followed a long silence, during which Ravenscroft shuffled his feet, as Crabb looked down over the banisters.
Presently they heard the sound of a key being turned in the lock. ‘Oh, it’s you again, Inspector,’ said Cranston, opening the door with a look of annoyance.
‘Good morning, Mr Cranston. May we come in? We won’t take up too much of your time,’ said Ravenscroft, trying to sound as polite as he could.
‘If you must,’ sighed Cranston turning away.
‘Thank you, sir, I see that you have just returned from London. I trust you managed to conclude your business to your own satisfaction?’
‘I’m sure that my business concerns are of little interest to you,’ replied Cranston, affecting an air of indifference.
‘Oh, that is where you are incorrect, sir. Your business affairs interest us a great deal. When we spoke the other day, you stated — unless I am mistaken — that before you came to Worcester you were employed by the Wedgewood Company at Stoke on Trent,’ said Ravenscroft, casting his eyes round the contents of the room.
‘That is so, Inspector, but I fail to see the significance of all this,’ replied Cranston irritably.
‘We have reason to believe that you lied to us, Mr Cranston.’
‘Now look here-’
‘It might interest you to know that they have not heard of you at Wedgewood. There is no trace of you having been employed by them.’
‘Then they must be mistaken. I was employed there for six years,’ replied Cranston adamantly.
‘That is not what they say.’
‘As I have just said, Inspector, they must be mistaken. Wedgewood are a large concern. There are a number of departments. I’m sure if you ask again, they will find details of my employment. Now, if you will excuse me, there is a great deal of paperwork that I must complete before the end of the morning.’
‘Do you mind if we take a look around your rooms, sir?’ asked Ravenscroft.
‘I certainly do mind,’ replied Cranston angrily.
‘It won’t take a minute.’
‘The devil it will!’
‘I could return with a written authorization from my superiors, Mr Cranston,’ said Ravenscroft, trying to remain as calm as he could.
‘Then I suggest you do so,’ snapped Cranston.
‘I’m sure that if you have nothing to hide, you cannot possibly object.’
‘But I do object, most strongly — and no, I have nothing to hide. I regard all this as police harassment, and will be lodging a complaint with your superiors,’ said Cranston firmly, looking Ravenscroft in the eye.
‘That is your decision.’
‘I don’t like your tone, Inspector. I said all I had to say on your last visit here. I am not involved in the murders of either Mr Evelyn or Miss Weston. In fact I was not in Worcester on either of the two nights in question, facts that can be easily checked by reference to my employers, if you consider it worth the effort to do so,’ replied Cranston sarcastically.
‘You seem remarkably well informed about the events we are investigating for someone who is seldom in Worcester,’ said Ravenscroft.
‘I read the papers. I like to be kept informed. Now I think it is time you left. I shall be seeking legal representation in this matter and, as I said, I will be lodging a complaint. You have not heard the last of this, Ravenscroft.’
‘That sounds remarkably like a threat to me, Mr Cranston,’ said Ravenscroft firmly.
‘That is your interpretation. Now I suggest you leave, before you say something you may later regret,’ said Cranston opening the door.
‘Mr Cranston, I am not satisfied with your answers, and further investigation concerning the nature of your activities before your arrival in Worcester, will be conducted. I wish you a good day.’
The policemen quickly made their way down the stairs as the door to Cranston’s room banged shut behind them.
‘Nasty, unpleasant fellow!’ remarked Crabb.
‘My sentiments exactly. I tell you, Crabb, I was an inch away from instructing you to put the cuffs on him. Our Mr Cranston has something to hide. I am sure he is involved in these two murders.’
‘Shall we come back with a warrant to search his rooms?’
‘I doubt we would find anything. It would not surprise me, however, if we discover that Cranston is not his real name.’
‘You mean he could have been in prison before he came to Worcester?’ asked Crabb.
‘Most likely, I would say,’ said Ravenscroft reaching the lower floor, where an anxious Mrs Glover was waiting.
‘Have you finished then?’ asked the old woman.
‘For the present, thank you, Mrs Glover,’ smiled Ravenscroft.
‘I wants to let them rooms. We can’t be having two rooms empty where there is no one to pay the rent. Old Glover would turn in his grave if he thought there was no money coming in.’
‘I quite understand, Mrs Glover. I don’t think we will need access again to either Mr Evelyn or Miss Weston’s rooms, so, yes, do go ahead and secure new tenants if you so wish.’
‘Then you best have this then,’ said the landlady, leading the way into Ruth Weston’s old rooms. Ravenscroft followed on behind, wondering what it was that she wanted to give him. ‘You best have that. I’ve no use for it,’ she said, handing him the hand-embroidered tablecloth. ‘Lad might want it, when he’s older.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Glover. I’m sure he will,’ said Ravenscroft, folding up the cloth. ‘Thank you once again for all your assistance.’
The old woman showed them out, and the two men walked away from the lodging-house.
‘I think our Mrs Glover will be pleased to see the back of us.’
‘Do you want me to take the cloth and give it to the lad?’ asked Crabb.
‘If you would be so kind; this was the tablecloth that Ruth Weston embroidered with the names ‘Arthur and Ruth’ — the names which I presume refer to herself and her son. Of course!’ said Ravenscroft, stopping suddenly.
‘What’s the matter, sir?’ asked Crabb.
‘ “One day my son will live in that house”, that’s what she said to me.’
‘Sorry, sir, you’ve lost me.’ said Crabb bewildered.
‘The day I met Ruth Weston she said to me that one day her son would live in “that house”. We were facing Sir Arthur Griffiths’ house at the time. One day her son would live in the house. Come, Crabb, back to the Court offices before they close for the day. There are some more records we need to examine urgently!’