The Magna Carta Murders (The Ralph Chamers Mysteries Book 12) Page 2

  “And the other?” Myerson asked when the Colonel paused to take a sip of his whisky.

  “The home-grown hoodlums who might’ve been smart enough to create a syndicate of like-minded thugs who wanted to steal the manuscripts and hold the UK Government to ransom for their return.”

  “So who’re you going to keep your eye on to protect your Magna Carta?”

  “Both, I suspect. But I’m not the one who controls the budget.”

  “Well let me get you another drink so that we’ll be fortified for the big game tonight. I managed to get tickets, and it’s about time you learned about something other than cricket.” They both laughed as Chuck signaled to the steward.

  _____________________

  Chapter 2

  Margaret, the Dean’s administrative assistant, was on the phone when Professor Ralph Chalmers walked in. She turned and motioned for Ralph to sit down. While waiting to speak with Rupert Granger, Ralph reflected on what had been two hectic semesters as acting Dean while Granger recovered from a back injury. It had been interesting, but he now faced the prospect of returning to a full teaching load. Granger came to his door to show his visitor out before he turned to Ralph.

  “Come on in, Ralph. Margaret can we have some coffee?”

  He ushered Ralph in to what only two days ago had been Ralph’s temporary roost from where he had run the show.

  “So how are you, Rupert? You’re looking good. The rest has obviously paid off.”

  “Well a lot of fuss over nothing, really. But they said complete rest would do the trick and for once they seem to have got it right.” Rupert went around to the other side of his desk and sat down. “Have a seat Ralph.”

  They chatted on about one or two changes that Ralph had introduced and the successful validation of two of the Post Graduate programmes. Margaret brought in the coffee and smiled: she was obviously happy to have her boss back in charge.

  “I’m sure that Margaret kept you on the straight and narrow while you were filling in for me, Ralph,” Granger said with a grin. “Everyone knows that she runs the place.” Margaret beamed at the praise. She liked to think that her efforts were appreciated.

  “But now you can focus on your teaching again,” Rupert said once Margaret had left the room and closed the door behind her. “But thanks for standing in.” He paused. “Sorry the HR people couldn’t adjust your salary, but then you had a lighter teaching load so I’m sure it all washed, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Ralph had hoped for a bit more acknowledgement of what he had achieved, not to mention what he had given up to take on the role. But he recognized that this was Granger’s way of regaining his position. There would always be another year when he could tackle the Round Britain and Ireland Race, and truth be told, it had been a good experience.

  “Of course, Rupert. I’m always happy to do whatever I can to help out. It’s not as easy being Dean as you manage to make it look.” It was a genuine observation.

  Although they had been at loggerheads over more than one issue in the past, in an odd way, he had always respected Granger’s abilities to steer the University on the right course. He hoped that his feelings were reciprocated. They drank their coffee in silence for a few minutes. Granger seemed to be in a good mood, but Ralph noticed that when he stood up and walked over to the window, he had winced slightly.

  “There’s something that the VC has asked me to run past you Ralph. How well do you know Professor Walker?”

  “David? He’s a good friend, as you know. On a professional level he’s first rate. He’s probably the best Jurisprudence Professor we’ve had, at least during my time. Why?”

  “The VC’s looking for someone to liaise with the American Bar Association.”

  “He’d be perfect for something like that, Rupert. Eton, Oxford, and a keen mind. And don’t forget that he had a lucrative practice at Grey’s Inn before the University tempted him to come here.”

  Ralph realised that he had probably overegged it a bit. He should have waited to hear what the VC wanted first. There were always a number of angles to consider whenever Granger began asking questions about a fellow staff member, and he just hoped he hadn’t thrown his friend into something he would not want to have.

  “You almost talked yourself out of the job, Ralph,” said Granger as he turned and walked back to his desk. “But for my money, you’re the man for this one. You won’t need to know anything about legal topics. Walker is, between you and me, a bit too stuffy. Don’t get me wrong, he’s good at his job, but perhaps not exactly right for dealing with the Americans.”

  Ralph could almost hear the gate slam behind him; the crack of the ringmaster’s whip would not be far behind.

  “Can you tell me what this is all about?” Ralph asked. He knew from experience that it would be difficult to wriggle out of anything Rupert had set his mind to. At least he wanted to be prepared to make his argument if need be.

  “The VC wants to take advantage of a visit that the ABA people are making to London this summer. He’s had some preliminary talks with a law firm in London: Miltons. They’re involved in part sponsoring the visit and setting the whole thing up. Margaret has all the details.”

  Game set and match, thought Ralph. The crafty bugger has already got me signed up. “Can you fill me in a bit on the details?” Ralph asked cautiously.

  “The big picture is that the VC wants to forge some strong links with the power people in the City. He sees that this ABA visit will create the perfect opportunity. Our law school is fine, but we don’t have anyone there with any stature or credibility at the moment.”

  “But what about David’s background? He was a well-respected member of the Bar before he joined us and he’s certainly popular with students and staff alike here at the University.”

  “Yes, yes,” Rupert said dismissively. “But that’s all schoolboy stuff. What we want is someone with more of an international background. You know, someone who can talk to them in their own language, so to speak. You have your consulting background, not to mention connections, and you know your way around the US.”

  “But even presuming I might be right for the job, what’s so important about this particular visit? From what I recall, it’s not that unusual for the ABA to sponsor visits to the UK.”

  “True, but this particular ABA visit is part of the celebrations commemorating the 800th anniversary of the signing of the Magna Carta. Apart from one or two seminars and lectures that Miltons are putting on for our American cousins, they’ve organized a top level visit to Runnymede. It’s a big do with festivities on the meadows by the river and some sort of tree planting at the Kennedy Memorial. As I said, Margaret has the details.”

  “Surely the VC will be there?”

  “Of course. Both he and his wife; and Ruth and I as well. But we need someone we can trust to make everything run smoothly so that we can concentrate on the top people.”

  “I see,” said Ralph.

  What he saw was that Rupert would bask in all the glory at ‘top table’ while he busted his back out of site. As usual, Rupert expected him to do all of the work while he took all the credit. There was nothing new there.

  “Of course I wouldn’t dream of asking unless there was an upside for you,” Rupert said. “The VC said that if it went well, he’d arrange for you to take paid leave and do a tour of the US. The University would cover all reasonable expenses.”

  “That sounds very generous,” Ralph said. He thought that he may as well be gracious about it; the Dean and the VC had obviously already made up their minds.

  “Yes, most generous,” Rupert agreed. “Naturally we’d expect you to visit a select number of Universities and set up some student exchange programmes while you’re there on your holiday.”

  Ralph knew about the Magna Carta celebrations. He had been lucky enough to be one of the one thousand or so people who had been invited to see the four original manuscripts at the exhibition in London. His partner, Katie had entered the draw f
or the viewing and had won. She had given him the ticket as an early birthday present. His first degree at Cambridge was in history, and she knew how much it would mean to him to see them in person. He had found it moving to see all four manuscripts together for the first time in 800 years.

  “It sounds like a wonderful opportunity, Rupert. Thanks. By the way, has anyone mentioned any of this to Doctor Walker?”

  “Not a word, I can assure you,” the Dean said as he shook Ralph’s hand and saw him to the door.

  Ralph collected a large file marked Magna Carta Project from Margaret on his way out. He hoped that he had not taken an opportunity away from David, although it was fairly obvious that Granger had already made up his mind before their meeting. He was not keen about his role as go-fer and general dogs’ body for Granger and the VC, but then it was not the first time and it was unlikely to be the last. He could just hear Katie telling him that organizing things for Rupert’s do should be right up his alley, knowing what a control freak he was.

  ***

  Ralph and Katie had finally taken Peter and Marcia up on their long-standing invitation to supper. Everyone had been busy pursuing various activities during the year and, as always, time had slipped by.

  Katie had travelled down to Surbiton by train and he met her in the Jag. It was a short drive to Peter’s and as they sped down the A3 he told her about the meeting with Granger and the Runnymede celebrations. She agreed to go with him on condition that there was no requirement that she wear period costume. It was something that he had not considered, but the thought crossed his mind that although Katie had posed it as a joke, it might just have some mileage.

  Once they had all settled around the dining table Peter stood up and took a formal bow.

  “Welcome to the Cavendish residence, dear friends.”

  Marcia told him to stop being an ass and to sit down and carve the beef.

  “While Peter’s doing that, we have a little announcement to make,” Lance said.

  “Oh?” Peter said and stopped his labour while Lance went on.

  “Cindy and I, well, Cindy, to be more precise, is expecting. We’re going to be parents.”

  “That’s wonderful news,” Marcia and Katie agreed as they congratulated the proud expectant couple. Ralph clapped Lance on the back and Peter smiled as he stood back up.

  “Here, here,” Peter said as he raised his glass. “A toast to our fecund friends.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Peter,” said Marcia.

  Ralph wondered how many gin and tonics Peter had consumed before their arrival. He noticed that Cynthia had plain water in her glass.

  “Just one final thing before we eat. I’ve been asked to arrange the music for the Magna Carta celebrations at Salisbury Cathedral and at The Temple Church in the City of London. You’re all invited to both events as my special guests.” Everyone clapped. “Now I will carve the meat.”

  It was a good start to a superb supper that had been postponed a number of times since they had got back from their holiday together in Gibraltar.

  When they had retired to the atrium for coffee, the subject of the Magna Carta was revisited.

  “So what pieces have you selected for the concerts, Peter,” asked Katie. “Something Medieval, presumably?”

  “Don’t get him started,” said Marcia. “The last thing he needs is encouraging.”

  “A good question, Katie,” said Peter, ignoring his wife’s admonishment. “We have recorded music from long before King John’s time, but I’ll need to find something that’s both popular and appropriate if I don’t want to disappoint the audience.”

  “Ralph. Tell everyone about your early birthday present,” said Katie.

  “The event in London was fantastic,” Ralph said. “What I found amazing was the size and simplicity of the manuscripts.”

  “I must have missed something,” said Lance.

  “Sorry about that. Katie managed to get me a ticket to see the four original Magna Carta manuscripts when they had the Unification Event. Two are still on show at the British Library, if anyone’s interested. Anyhow, each document was on a piece of sheepskin about 18 inches square. It was all in Latin of course, but the scribes had managed to capture the whole thing in about 4000 words. No engrossments, just simple straightforward language. And nothing like some of those religious scrolls that are highly decorated. They were simple and unadorned, almost as if they knew that nothing should overshadow the words. It’s amazing that they’ve survived.”

  “Plenty of security, I would imagine,” said Marcia.

  “Yes, it was pretty tight, but unobtrusive, say in comparison to what it would be if the Crown Jewels went on display at some public venue.”

  “What do you reckon they’re worth?” Lance asked.

  “According to the programme they handed out, each one’s valued at around 20 million, but more than a hundred if you have all four as a group.”

  “That’d buy a whole heap of nappies,” Lance said as they all laughed.

  “Did they have anything else on display besides the Magna Carta manuscripts?” Cynthia asked. As curator of the Dorich House Museum that was owned and run by the University, Cynthia was very keen to hear more about the event. She had put her name in the hat for a ticket as well, but had not been as lucky as Katie.

  “They had Thomas Jefferson’s handwritten copy of the Declaration of Independence and an original copy of the American Bill of Rights,” Ralph said.

  “I’ll bet there was some pretty heavy security around those documents,” Peter said.

  “I did notice some seriously tough looking blokes that could have been with the CIA, if the haircuts, dark suits and square jaws were anything to go by,” Ralph said as they all laughed.

  “It’s unthinkable but someone might be determined enough to have a go at stealing them,” said Marcia.

  “D’you mean like in the films where the master crook swings down from a skylight and ducks under those red laser beams while the audience holds its breath in case the alarm goes off,” Lance teased.

  “Ralph told me that they had people there to answer questions about the documents and the history and even about the security for putting them on public display. Go on, Ralph, tell them what else they told you,” Katie said.

  “Yes, tell us about it,” Cynthia said.

  “I don’t remember everything they said,” Ralph admitted. “I do recall them saying that they’d been delivered in specially made carriers that’d been vacuum-sealed with some clever electronics to control the temperature and humidity.”

  “I wonder where they got hold of them?” Marcia asked. “I can’t imagine they’re anything like the vacuum bottles we use to put our tea in when we go on a picnic.” Peter just rolled his eyes and leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek before Ralph went on.

  “Evidently Imperial College in London was involved in the design and I think it might have been done by Bob Rhodes. He’s head of the Engineering over at Imperial.”

  “Didn’t you say you knew him, Ralph?” Katie asked.

  “Yes, we were students together at Cambridge. We met up at a chess tournament in our first year, but I haven’t seen him in a while.”

  “What did they do with them after the Event? The manuscripts, I mean,” Marcia asked. “Do you think it’s worth trying to see them?”

  “They’ve gone back to their original homes at Salisbury and Lincoln Cathedrals, and of course two are still at the British Library through the summer.”

  “Why don’t you all plan to stay overnight when you come to Salisbury for the concert,” said Peter. “We can all stay at the hotel the organizers have fixed up for the orchestra. It’s The Milford Hall. I’ll give them a ring tomorrow and set it up.”

  “That sounds great, Peter,” said Katie. “Give us the dates so we can put it in our diaries.”

  They settled back and made themselves at home in Peter and Marcia’s large comfortable home. After only a small amount of persuasion, Peter t
ook his seat at the piano and began to play while Marcia brought out a catalogue for a fashion show she was doing in Rome at the end of the month.

  It had been a fun, relaxing evening. Ralph wondered why they did not get together more often. As they drove along the A3, Katie asked about the American tour that the VC had offered him as a carrot for organizing the do at Runnymede.

  “Would you want me to come with you Ralph? Assuming they really meant it. You know how they change their tune once you’ve delivered.”

  “If you can get the time off that would be great.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “Of course I would. You know how I hate those dinners and all of that glad-handing rigmarole. And the Americans always prefer to see a couple. It would be good to have you with me.”

  “Hmmm. So you say. But I’ve seen you out there strutting your stuff, Mr. Congeniality. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

  Ralph knew better than to ask what the question was. He pressed on.

  “It’d give us a chance to get some time together and share seeing some of the cities.”

  He was quiet as they drove along. They got on great when they were doing things but when it came to talking about their relationship it was never straightforward. He wondered if he overthought things. It was still on his mind as he pulled into the parking garage at his apartment complex, but Katie seemed to have moved on.

  ***

  Ralph settled back in his seat in First Class as the Inter-City train pulled smoothly away from the station. He had managed to grab a coffee at Paddington while he waited for the platform for the Oxford via Reading train to be announced. As his fellow passengers found their reserved seats and struggled through the interconnecting doors with large cases and multicoloured rucksacks, he at last started to relax. He was looking forward to a day out. He had planned a visit to the Bodleian, his favourite library, and lunch with his old college pal, Jack Evans.

  Paddington station had been the nearest thing he could imagine to purgatory. Kids running around, people pushing and running while they shouted to each other and large parties of overseas visitors who he knew would also be heading for Oxford. His own overseas students had told him how shocked they had been when they arrived in Oxford and found that they had a twenty minute walk to reach the colleges and the Elysian meadows by the river that all the guide books touted. The wide pedestrian walkways only encouraged the hundreds of visitors to congregate. He remembered trying to grab a quick meal at an extremely over crowded McDonald’s the last time that he was there. He had also looked for a more salubrious eating house down among the narrow side-streets where a myriad of fast food places and small restaurants were to be found. Unfortunately they focused on making their fortunes from a customer market that changed every day. No repeat customers to consider. The food was mostly poor and expensive. But Ralph was a seasoned visitor and knew how to avoid the crowds. During the journey he had been amused at the posturing of two smartly dressed young executives joking about how to ‘stitch up’ an unsuspecting client they were going to visit. He wondered how much of it was bravado; no doubt to compensate for their lack of confidence. He made the quick change of trains at Reading; 30 minutes later his train pulled into Oxford station.