Free The Ledbury Lamplighters by Kerry Tombs

sorry,’ said Ravenscroft, feeling helpless as he moved back towards the door.
    â€˜Get out!’
    Ravenscroft realized that it was futile to remain any longer. Opening the door, he stepped out into the courtyard before making his way past the two dirty, shoeless children who had returned to witness his departure.
    â€˜Found her then, mister?’ asked the eldest of the two boys, looking up at him.
    Ravenscroft said nothing but made his way quickly down the alleyway, to where he hoped a brighter, more genteel, welcoming world would be waiting to greet him.
    A sudden blast of cold air blew into his face, however, as he turned back into the Homend, reminding him that it was the first day of January and that he could expect little better at this time of the year. He turned up the collar of his coat and made his way through the swirling snowstorm.
    As he came down towards the market hall he could hear the sound of dogs yelping and people shouting. Drawing nearer to the Feathers, he saw a group of a dozen or so men on horses, surrounded by a pack of hunting dogs.
    â€˜Ah, Ravenscroft, come to see the hunt off, have you?’ said the voice of Major Onslow, who was seated on a large white horse.
    â€˜Not exactly, Major.’
    â€˜Damn snow! Can’t see more than five feet in front of me,’ snapped Onslow, reaching down to grasp a small glass of liquid from a silver tray, which a shivering waiter from the Feathers was holding out towards him.
    â€˜Not a good day for the hunt,’ shouted Ravenscroft through the driving snow.
    â€˜Eh? What’s that you say? Speak up, man,’ demanded the master of the hunt before swallowing the contents of his glass in one gulp.
    â€˜I said, it’s not a good day for hunting!’
    â€˜Soon clear. Should get two or three of the blighters before dark. Caught who killed poor old Montacute yet?’ asked Onslow, taking another glass from the outstretched tray.
    â€˜Our investigations are still at an early stage.’
    â€˜Suppose so. Bloody awful thing to happen! Who the devil would want to kill old Montacute?’
    â€˜Who indeed, Major?’
    â€˜Snow seems to be dying down a bit. Best be on our way, we can’t keep the foxes waiting. Good day to you, Ravenscroft,’ shoutedOnslow, banging his empty glass down on the tray and signalling to one of the huntsmen to sound the horn.
    Ravenscroft stepped back towards the wall of the Feathers as the riders in their bright red coats, black breeches and hunting caps rode away from the old coaching inn, a pack of black and white dogs barking behind them and a collection of some thirty or forty retainers and townsmen bringing up the rear of the procession.
    â€˜Rather them than me on a day like this,’ said Crabb, walking over the road and joining his superior officer.
    â€˜Rather them than me on any day of the year, Crabb. Hunting is a pastime which has never held any appeal for me. You look cold. Let’s go inside,’ said Ravenscroft, opening the door to the inn.
    The two men made their way to the snug, where a welcoming fire spluttered loudly in the hearth.
    â€˜Just the thing,’ said Ravenscroft, removing his overcoat and rubbing his hands in front of the flames.
    â€˜Good day to you, gentlemen. Can I get you something to eat and drink? We’ve some nice venison pie left over from the festivities,’ said a cheery-faced barman.
    â€˜Excellent – and two tankards as well, if you please,’ instructed Ravenscroft.
    â€˜I sent off the telegram, sir, with instructions that they are to reply as soon as possible,’ said Crabb, seating himself on one of the stools.
    â€˜Good man. It will be interesting to see what the prison authorities can tell us about Leewood.’
    â€˜How did you get on with the family, sir?’
    â€˜The Leewoods live off the Homend, in a miserable place in Smoke Alley. If I said it was as bad as some of the places I used to