Chapter 18 #2
“That’s idiotic,” Tom said austerely. “The yeomen, of all people, knew it should have been Rumford there.”
“But the madman theory is always attractive, Tom, suggesting as it does that none of the people one knows, who are all manifestly normal, did the deed.”
“Ah.” Tom sighed. “Human nature. But these chaps have been soldiers for a couple of decades and got to the top of the noncom heap. I’d’ve thought they’d be able to think straighter than that.”
“Murder’s different,” said Piper. “Since we got here, I’ve heard that ten times if I’ve heard it once. They’ve all been in combat, most in the trenches, but soldiers killing soldiers in battle is one thing; cold-blooded murder’s another.”
“I don’t think this was precisely cold-blooded,” said Alec. “I think it was done in desperation. But let’s get on with it. Ernie, you ran your quarry to earth in the end?”
Piper had taxed four yeomen with being victims of extortion. Once reassured that he wasn’t going to ask for details of their misdeeds, three had sheepishly acknowledged the fact. One adamantly refused, but Piper was pretty certain he was lying.
“The three all said much the same,” he reported.
“They’d none of them received blackmail letters.
Rumford just hinted at what he knew, saying just enough so they were certain he really did know.
And he never asked for more than they would have spent on booze and smokes, never enough to put a dent in the housekeeping money.
But he’s been at it for years, here a bit, there a bit.
I reckon it’s added up to a nice spot of change over time.
So why didn’t I find anything in his house? No money, no fancy stuff . . . ”
“Didn’t look hard enough, laddie,” said Tom.
“All right, you go search it, Sarge.”
Alec shook his head. “Now he’s come round, we’d have to ask his permission or get a search warrant, and I’m not prepared to do either. Not yet anyway. For all we know, he spent the take on booze and smokes, or the geegees, or giving chorus girls a good time on his day off. Tom?”
“I went first to see the Chapel Clerk, Dixon.”
“Carradine was just telling me how relieved he was that Rumford didn’t demand to be made Chapel Clerk,” Alec said with a grin, “given his despicable character. I didn’t mention the failings of the present occupant of the post.”
“Ah. Well, I didn’t ask what his failings are, but he came across Rumford during the War, too, like it seems the general must’ve done.
Otherwise, it’s just as the lad says, nothing in writing, never asks for more than can be afforded without real hardship.
Dixon’s been here at the Tower longer than Rumford.
He says it wasn’t but a month after Rumford arrived that the blackmail started. ”
“He didn’t say, or you didn’t get the impression, that recently Rumford’s demanded more? Larger sums or more often?”
“No, Chief. I’m pretty sure it’s been slow and steady right up to the present.”
“No alibi?”
“Just his wife. They live in the Beauchamp Tower, right by the chapel. He never told her about the blackmail. He says he went as usual to lock up the chapel at ten o’clock and took the keys to the chaplain. She says he came in at quarter past, same as usual, and didn’t go out again.”
In the meantime, Piper had turned up the notes of Dixon’s statement in the initial interviews with the Yeoman Warders. “That’s exactly what he told DC Ross, Chief.”
“I didn’t trouble the Reverend, seeing that was too early to interest us. Seemed to me the Dixons were telling the truth.”
“All right. The chaplain wasn’t on Rumford’s list, but I suppose we’d better have a word with him at some point, see if he has any light to shed on the business. He seems to have been overlooked. Who else, Tom?”
“One of the Hotspur sergeants, name of Willis. Denied everything, but he’s got an alibi anyway. Playing snooker in the sergeants’ mess. Three more sergeants as witnesses, his opponent and two onlookers waiting for their turn at the table—and keeping an eye on the clock.”
“Would they lie for him? Esprit de corps?”
“Yes, probably, but not in this case, I don’t think. After all, Crabtree was one of them not so long ago. They all knew him. The corpse was one of the corps, as you might say.”
“Great Scott, Tom, if you’re going to take up bilingual punning, I’m looking for another right-hand man.”
“Not speaking parley-voo, I doubt another chance’ll ever come my way, Chief.”
“Thank heaven. Whom else did you see?”
“Edgemoor. The Raven Master. No trouble with him. He told me Rumford heard him teaching bad language to Callum—that’s the bird that got dismissed for conduct unbecoming a Tower raven.
It was when he’d just been promoted to Raven Master.
He thought it would be funny, and everyone would assume Callum just picked up the words around the place.
He didn’t realize it would get the raven chucked out for fear of upsetting visitors. ”
“But they wouldn’t chuck Edgemoor himself out for that, would they?” asked Piper. “If they found out?”
“No, but he’d be busted back to ordinary Yeoman Warder. Rumford took off him just a little less than the extra he got paid for being Raven Master. Clever bugger! But aside from the pay, Edgemoor got to be fond of the birds.”
“Still, Sarge, he wouldn’t be in enough trouble if Rumford told to make it worth killing him.”
“Very true, laddie. He has a pretty good alibi anyway, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, that’s right. Up half the night nursing one of his birds, overheard by a neighbour.”
“Did Edgemoor receive anything in writing from Rumford?” Alec asked.
“Never, Chief.”
“That’s the lot, then, Tom? . . . Good, we’ve established a pattern that holds for the Resident Governor also. Rumford’s threats and demands have been verbal, not written, and he’s been taking what his victims can afford without hardship. At least till now.”
“Ah,” said Tom. “Are you thinking the same thing I’m thinking, Chief?”
“I expect so. We’ll get to that in a minute. Neither of you took notes of this lot of interviews?”
“You said not to, Chief,” Piper reminded him, “so’s not to make them nervous, because we wanted their cooperation.”
“Quite right. But now, I want it all written down while it’s fresh in our minds, before details get forgotten.”
They set to work, Piper’s pencil racing over the paper, Tom’s more laborious.
Alec decided to leave out all mention of Fay Carradine’s venial sin, but he wrote down what Mrs. Tebbit had reported of Rumford’s conversation with Jeremy Webster.
Webster had routed the predatory Yeoman Gaoler.
However, Alec thought with a frown, that didn’t necessarily mean there was no basis for the accusation.
Should he alert Carradine? Awkward, especially as it looked as if the general was going to have Webster as his cousin by marriage. Better, perhaps, to mention the secretary’s keen interest in the Crown Jewels to the Keeper of the Regalia. General Sir Patrick Heald was surely the best person—
“One thing I didn’t mention, Chief,” Tom said, interrupting Alec’s thoughts, “Edgemoor said he’s getting fed up with paying out.
He reckons he’s pretty secure in his position, seeing his mistake is long past and the ravens are thriving under his care.
He was going to tell Rumford to go to hell next time he asked to be paid off.
I told him Rumford wouldn’t be coming round anymore. That’s right, isn’t it?”
“Yes, one way or another, we’ll put an end to his racket, even if we can’t arrest him. He hasn’t yet told Rumford where to get off?”
“No. So I can’t see it makes much difference far as we’re concerned.”
“Probably not. I’ll think about it.”