Chapt 3. 'Oxford and Sir William'

[Priest]

Chapt 3. 'Oxford and Sir William'

It only takes a couple of hours to reach the University, and before long you are speaking to the head of the History Faculty, Professor Howard Potts, in a luxurious and well stocked study. As soon as you mention Sir William Brinton his face darkens slightly,
“His manner of departure was to say the least an inconvenience. To suddenly up and disappear without so much as a by your leave let alone a letter of resignation, was, to say the least, unforgivable”

He takes a moment to knock out his pipe into a cut glass ashtray set upon his desk. For the next few seconds he begins the laborious task of refilling the well used meerschaum,
“See that shelf of books over there?” he uses the pipe as a pointer to indicate several large, bound books nearby, “Those are but a small selection of the man’s works. He was, at one time, considered this Country’s foremost archaeology expert, his speciality being Pre-Romanic British culture and society of course”

He continues his pipe filling, “The University’s department was basically his child. He had during the years he was here, fitted it to his designs. His departure was as sudden as it was strange, one day he was here next he was gone”.

He finishes filling the pipe and striking a match begins lighting it amongst clouds of aromatic tobacco smoke. “Since his disappearance there has been no contact. So, gentlemen, how can I be of assistance?”

[Mr. Handy]

"That does seem rather odd," says Oliver, rubbing his chin. "Was there ever a police investigation into his disappearance? Could there have been foul play involved?"

[Supercape]

Maurice was equally suspicious. He scanned the books on the shelves.

"It sounds most suspicious, Sir, if you pardon my impertinence. I don't know the man, but from what you say, it was a most sudden change of character. Such changes do not fall without good reason..."

[Priest]

Potts, putting a pair of old fashioned 'Prinz Nez' glasses upon his nose, opens a large, well stuffed, file,
"It seemed very odd at the time. Odd and dashed inconvenient it being mid-term. Can you imagine how difficult it was to find someone to take over his classes?"

He shakes his head and starts flicking through the files contents, "Ah yes, the police. There was an investigation at the time, local and national, including some very odd characters from some Whitehall department or other. However, nothing was found of Sir William's whereabouts, it seemed that he had vanished into thin air, along with the chap who he had been seeing a lot of in the weeks prior to his disappearance"

Raising his head from the file and steepeling his fingers on his desk, Potts eyes you both as if inspecting an artefact, “It seems strange for a few weeks after the disappearance one couldn’t move for police of one sort or another, Sir Williams wife Bridget - a wonderful woman - was constantly assailed by questions. Yet since then nothing until now when you suddenly appear and begin asking questions”

His gaze focuses and turns slightly suspicious, “So may I ask why gentlemen, after all this time, the sudden interest?”

[Supercape]

Honesty is the best policy, thought Maurice. Besides, it was his nature.

"Forgive out intrusion, Sir" he blurted. "We have come to hear of the tale of Exham Priory. I am not sure you are aware of it. A lot of malign rumours and disturbing myths. It is a mystery, of sorts, and the events cast a blemish over that part of England. Such stains are difficult to wash, Sir, so a scientific and accurate account of the events would be the best soap!" he said, wincing at his off the cuff analogy.

[Mr. Handy]

"Sir William Brinton was a friend of my uncle's some twenty years ago," explains Oliver. "A mutual friend of theirs, Dr. Peter Trask, went to Exham Priory with them. He too dropped out of sight in 1924. Who was this chap that Sir William had been seeing a lot of before he disappeared? I'd wager he might be able to provide some explanations."

[Priest]

Potts puffs his pipe for a few moments, in contemplation of what he has just heard. Then taking the glasses off he places them into the top pocket of his much maligned tweed sports jacket. For the next second, or so, he stares at you both through the cloud of tobacco smoke,
“Hmm, Exham Priory…it’s been a few years since I heard that name and then only in half whispered telephone conversations”

He takes another puff on his pipe and as he lets the smoke drift across the room he seems deep in though,
“I recall that Sir William was called away in the August of ’24 to assist in the investigation of some find at a place on the Welsh border, that was called Exham, I think. He returned the next day claiming that the site had been of no consequence. He never spoke to me of it again, though I did have my suspicions that there had been more to it than he was saying. As to the name ‘Trask’ I never heard William mention that name before, and the chap he was in contact with prior to his disappearance was never introduced to me”

Again he puffs at his pipe, though this time without the smoke, it appears that the pipe has burned out,
“So, are you saying that this place…Exham, had more to it than he let on, and that it might have had something to do with his disappearance?...

[Supercape]

It was speculation, of course, but that shadow of an idea had crossed Maurice' mind; and no doubt his brother-in-arms.

"Possibly, there is no direct evidence, yet" he breezed. He was fighting awfully to avoid the smoke of the pipe. His chest tightened and he felt cold and sweaty, pain threading through his lungs.

"I..ah...*ack ack*...I do apologise Sir" he said, coughing into his handkerchief. There was a palpable show of blood at this time. "I am afraid the war left me with quite a rotten set of lungs. Smoke damage..." he explained, unable to stop himself casting a baleful eye on the pipe.

"As to the link; this is a matter we aim to illuminate. It is a suspicious set of circumstances, perhaps..." he offered, suggestively.

[Mr. Handy]

"My uncle's name was Stephen Daniels," adds Oliver, looking at Maurice with concern and helping him however he can. "He was a churchman, if that helps. Did Sir William take all of his possessions with him when he disappeared, or were any of his belongings left behind?"

[Priest]

"Ah" mutters Potts, looking concerned at his visitors alarming bout of coughing. He rises, quickly, from his seat, goes over to the rooms single, multi-paned, window and lifts it open. Instantly the sounds of university life mixed with more mundane Oxford town noises filters into the room as the offending smoke filters out. Within seconds the rooms air seems clearer and sweeter.

At Olivers's question he pauses, hands resting on the window sill, and gazes into the distance, "Afraid not, old chap, after his disappearance all of his stuff was boxed up and sent to his house"

He straightens up and recrosses to his desk, stooping as he writes something on to a small notepad,. He tears the sheet of paper from the pad and hands it to Oliver, "Here is his address. His wife, Lady Bridget, still resides there. If any of his personal papers dealt at the time with his visit to...Exham... you may find them there, if, of course, Bridget still has them. And, of course, the dear lady may know the identity of his mysterious associate"

He retakes his seat behind his desk, "I hope you have good fortune in your investigations. I would like to know the outcome of your enquiries, after all Sir William was a friend and collegue and therefore his fate is of great interest."

OOC:   The peice of paper has 14 Meredith Avenue Oxford wrtten on it.

[Mr. Handy]

"Thank you, Professor Potts," says Oliver, "you've been a great help. Well, let's be off to visit the Lady." He pats Maurice on the back to try to stop his coughing fit and helps him out of the room and away from the smoke.

[Priest]

14 Meredith Avenue turns out to be a large, rambling Victorian building set back from the road, or rather lane. From its ornate wooden gate, obviously there to replace ones that had gone to aid the war effort sometime in ’40, to the large, well maintained gardens and the ivy clad brickwork of the house, it shouts of wealth and position. As you walk up the gravelled drive towards the massive oak door you feel a million miles from the war in Europe and the bomb sites of London.
At the front door you are confronted by a middle aged woman in a black dress and apron, obviously the maid, it is obvious from her pained expression that she thinks you collectors of some sort,
“Yes sirs, may I help?”

[Supercape]

"Good day to you Ma'am" said Maurice politely, doffing his cap. He was acutely aware that he was out of his depth. His family were resolutely middle class, but Maurice was little but a poor artist, with the emphasis on poor.

"Begging your pardon, Ma'am, is the Lady Bridget in? My friend and I were hoping we could talk with her?"

[Priest]

For a few moments she stares at you as if you were something nasty that had just crawled onto the doorstep. Then she ushers the pair of you into a rather splendid wood panneled entrance hall, "Please wait here I will announce you, Mr...?"

She gives you a withering stare that seems to say, well who are you and what do you want?

[Supercape]

"I do apologise Madam, please allow me to introduce myself, Captain Maurice Grey, and my dear friend Captain Oliver Carpenter" replied Maurice with a smile.

[Mr. Handy]

Oliver also doffs his cap when he goes inside. "My late uncle Stephen Daniels was a friend of Lady Bridget's husband," he adds.

[Priest]

After a few minutes, during which time you have the opportunity to admire the luxurious fittings of the panelled hallway, the maid reappears followed by a woman you think may be in her early sixties.
You are ushered into an enormous study filled with stuffed bookshelves and period furniture. Lady Bridget gestures to a pair of comfortable looking chairs, “Please be seated gentlemen. Anna tells me that one of you had an uncle that may have been an acquaintance of my late husband William. How may I assist you Captain Grey and Captain Carpenter?”

She turns to the still hovering Anna, “Tea please Anna and biscuits I think”

The opulence of your surroundings, the quiet of the countryside and a form of etiquette that you had thought gone with the wars arrival, contrasts with the knowledge that not far away, across Europe in Italy men were dying in the filthy rat infested ruins of a once great civilisation.

[Supercape]

Maurice quenched his unease at the luxury. The War was still alive in his dreams.

"My friend here, Captain Carpenter, Ma'am. His uncle knew your late husband" he said, leaving Oliver to do the talking. Meanwhile, he helped himself to some tea.

[Mr. Handy]

"Thank you, ma'am," says Oliver, taking a seat and holding his cap in his hand, also unused to such luxury. His family was comfortable enough, but certainly not wealthy or in the upper classes. "Some tea and biscuits would be lovely. My uncle, Stephen Daniels, was a friend of Sir William's some twenty years ago. The two of them and others, including Professor Peter Trask, went to Exham Priory back in 1923, and I was hoping to find out more about it. Perhaps your husband left behind some writings on the subject."

[Priest]

Lady Bridget leans forward and picks up her tea. Using one hand to grip the saucer she gently raises the bone china tea cup to her lips, crooking her little finger in the correct manner, and with a gentle breath she blows the hot tea too cool it before taking a delicate sip, “It has been a long time since I heard that name. Exham…Exham. If my memory serves me correct it is a small town on the Welsh border”

she returns the cup and saucer to the tray on the period coffee table. “I recall the name Trask, before the disappearance William worked closely with Dr Trask, but I have no recollection of William ever mentioning a Stephen Daniels. Still in his work my husband amassed many contacts, most of whom I never knew.”

She stands and gestures around the large study, with its fine furniture and large windows that open onto the gardens, “This was my husband’s study, he did much of his writing here at that desk” she indicates a large mahogany desk, positioned so as to gain full benefit from the daylight from the windows, “Most of the works you see on the bookshelves deal with his passion, which was early British society”

You can tell by the way she is speaking that even after twenty years she still feels the pain of her husband’s disappearance. “If any of his papers deal with that place, they should be here or amongst those returned from the university and stored in the loft above the garage”

She turns to the maid, “Anna these gentlemen will be looking through Sir William’s papers for anything relevant too an Exham Priory. Please see that they have everything they need”

Anna nods and favours you both with suspicious stares, you get the feeling she will be watching you with the eyes of a hawk just in case you should attempt to leave with the silver.

Lady Bridget rises, gracefully, from her chair, “Gentlemen…this place…Exham…why the sudden interest, after all twenty years is a long time? Do you think it has anything to do with my husband’s disappearance? At the time the Police looked into every lead to his whereabouts and found nothing. There was no trace, even his car remains unfound. It seemed at the time that he, and Dr Trask, had simply vanished from the face of the earth”