The Riddle of the Ravens: An Inspector Graves Mystery (The Inspector Graves Mysteries) by J.S. SAVAGE

Author:J.S. SAVAGE [SAVAGE, J.S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-11-02T00:00:00+00:00

XXII

BOB MAKES AN ADMISSION, ANNA MAKES A DENIAL

The two detectives accompanied Bess Trent to the door of James Burroughs’ house. As they bid their farewells, Graves asked a favour of the formidable nurse: not to repeat any part of their conversation to Sergeant Gurung, in fact, not to speak to him at all if possible. Bess replied that she wasn’t in the habit of passing the time of day with foreign troublemakers, let alone murderers, and that she wasn’t planning on changing the habits of a lifetime, no thank you, sir.

Peggy took advantage of their absence from the sitting room to mop up the few crumbs that had fallen to the floor, then, finding the cake to her taste, she leapt onto the armchair to get her full, fair share of sponge and cream. When the men returned, she was lying on the floor snoring softly, her whiskers licked clean.

‘Are we going to question Mrs Standford, sir?’

‘No, not yet,’ replied Graves. ‘There’s someone else who needs to explain their actions, or inactions first, don’t you think? But before that, you’d better clean up these cups and plates. I see Peggy’s made a start for you.’ He looked at the dog who opened one eye before quickly shutting it again.

A bracing wind met them as they stepped onto the cobbles in front of the firing range. As dead leaves swirled in circles at their feet, the air whistled a shrill tune. Peggy turned to go back inside but Graves shut the door in her face. Fortunately for her, they found Doctor Gibson a few doors down at his house next to the entrance to the Tower. He answered Graves’ knock with a welcoming smile and stood back to let all three guests enter.

‘I’m surprised to find you at home, Doctor,’ said Graves, looking at his pocket watch.

‘Yes, I suppose you expected me to be at the hospital at this time of the morning, and so I should be, but I have a confession to make; I lost track of time, so immersed was I in my studies.’

‘Studies? At your age?’ said Carver, quickly regretting his choice of words when he perceived a glare from Graves. Doctor Gibson, though, took the question with a pinch of humour.

‘Yes, well not exactly academia, Constable Carver. Those days are behind me as you’ve noticed. No, my studies of the Tower, its past. Such a fascinating place, with such a rich history. Literally.’

‘You mean housing the Crown Jewels?’

‘Amongst other things.’

‘Ah yes,’ said Graves, ‘the treasure of – what was his name again, Barkingham, Barnet -’

‘Barkstead. John Barkstead.’ The doctor laughed. ‘I see someone has been telling stories about me.’

‘Nothing malicious,’ assured Graves with a gentle smile.

‘Oh, it’s quite alright. I don’t mind a few people having a laugh at what must seem to be wild fancies. Please take a seat. As you can see, I take my hobby seriously, though I don’t expect anyone else to.’

Graves and Carver sat beside one another on a flower-patterned sofa and surveyed the room.

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