The Tewkesbury Tomb by Kerry Tombs

younger,’ said Lucy, smiling. ‘If I recall, your five characters are mainly clerical gentlemen.’
    â€˜What a strange state of affairs. Why go to such elaborate lengths to conceal your true identity? I cannot see the reason for such deception when a straightforward Smith or Jones would have been sufficient. With your powers of deduction, my dear, I see that I will have to enrol you in the local constabulary. With you by my side we will be able to solve our crimes in half the time,’ said Ravenscroft, rising from his chair.
    â€˜Now you are being patronizing, Samuel,’ teased Lucy.
    â€˜That I would never dare to do! You are far too shrewd to see through any kind of flattery that I might be foolish enough to attempt. Anthony Trollope, you say. Now there is a mystery all in itself. But we have sat here long enough, my dear. Time for bed; an early start beckons in the morning if Tom and I are to seek out this fellow Ross in Bredon’s Norton.’

    Â 
    They had begun their journey that morning from Ledbury to Bredon in warm March sunshine and under a clear blue sky, but once their trap had crossed the Severn and skirted the town of Tewkesbury, a fleet of ominous black clouds began to drift quickly across the empty space above their heads.
    â€˜How much further, Tom?’ asked Ravenscroft, as their vehicle made its way through the quiet sleepy village of Bredon.
    â€˜Only another two or three miles, sir, according to the map,’ replied Crabb.
    â€˜I shall be glad when we get there. I fear it will not be long before the heavens will open up on us. The hill in front of us over there certainly looks dark and forbidding,’ said Ravenscroft, turning up the collar of his coat, as he contemplated the events of the previous two days.
    Why had five complete strangers decided to meet one another for the first time outside the abbey on such a cold wet evening? They had each claimed that they had been summoned to seek out the tomb of their ancient ancestor, but instead they had found the body of the man who had arranged their meeting. At first they had sought to conceal the truth from him, and although he had eventually been successful in his questioning, he still knew that there was much more to unravel, more admissions to be made, before the mystery of the deceased man could be solved. But all that could wait until he had pursued his present line of inquiry.
    Then there was the murdered man found lying inside the old Templar tomb. Why had he called himself by so many different names? And why had he chosen the novels of Anthony Trollope as his source of inspiration? The man had obviously been well read, but was there something more behind that choice?
    Now they were on their way to seek out the sixth member of the group, the man known as Ross, who had made but a fleeting brief appearance at the abbey before disappearing into the darkness once more. Was he also a descendant of the crusader knight – and, if so, why had he been so anxious to quit the scene? At least he had left some information behind him, and the directory had given the name Mr Charles Ross of Bredon’s Norton. Perhaps the man might provide them with some valuable information concerning the death of the stranger – or he might well prove to be the murderer himself.
    â€˜I think we go off the road here,’ said Crabb, turning the trap sharply to the right. ‘Map says the track runs up to the hill to Bredon’s Norton; there is no other way through.’
    As they made their way along the old rutty way, waves of mist suddenly decended and drifted ahead of them, quickly engulfing them with their vapour and seeking to impede the horse’s progress.
    â€˜Go slower, Tom, we don’t know what is ahead. I can hardly see anything in front of us. I’ve never seen the weather change so quickly. This horrible damp mist seems to cling to one. Extraordinary. I don’t think I have ever been so cold in