C S Lewis and the Body in the Basement (C S Lewis Mysteries Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

cellar,’ said Jack in that great voice of his that could fill an Oxford lecture hall. ‘He just needs to take a glance at me and authorise the withdrawal, that’s all.’
    Franklin Grimm suddenly looked undecided. Clearly he felt keenly the superiority of the bank officer over the mere customer, but Jack carried so much authority in his manner and his voice that the teller was now uncertain how far he could take this.
    He reached his decision, coming down on the side of safety. ‘If you’d step through this counter flap, sir, I’ll take you down to Mr Ravenswood in the cellar.’
    As he spoke he stepped out of his teller’s cage and raised the counter flap beside it.
    Jack entered the office behind the counter and followed the teller towards a door in the far wall. Warnie and I glanced at each other and decided, pretty much simultaneously, not to be left behind. So we followed them.
    The young woman looked up, startled by our entry into the sacred ground of the bank’s office. She was too stunned to speak. She just sat there with her mouth open, looking like a cod in a fish shop window—a cod who was clearly waiting for either an explanation or an apology.
    The door at the rear of the office opened onto a steep flight of steps that led down into a dimly lit cellar. In fact, the only light came from a single naked light globe dangling on the end of a piece of flex in the centre of the room.
    ‘Mr Ravenswood? Sir?’ called out Franklin Grimm. Facing us was a solid brick wall with a large steel vault door set into it. This was standing ajar, and, in response to the teller’s call, a man emerged from the strongroom behind the steel door. He was a large, solidly built man with a puffy, red face. He was wearing a business shirt but no jacket and his tie was slightly askew. As he emerged he was wiping his hands on an oily rag.
    ‘Yes, what is it, Grimm?’ he growled. But before the teller could reply he saw the rest of us—Jack standing beside the teller and Warnie and me on the stairs.
    ‘Who are these people? And what are they doing here? Did you bring them down into the cellar? That’s against bank policy!’
    This prompted Grimm to look over his shoulder and become aware of our presence. ‘You two, go back upstairs!’ he snapped. Warnie responded by leaning his elbow on the railing of the stairway, making it clear that he had no intention of moving. I felt the same: I was neither an employee nor a customer of the bank, and saw no reason to snap to attention and follow orders.
    A look of frustration and helplessness swept over Grimm’s face. He turned back to his manager and indicated Jack standing by his side. ‘This man wishes to make a withdrawal from his passbook account, sir. But his account is with the Oxford branch and he has no identification. He says that you might recognise him from a visit last year.’
    ‘Step into the light, if you please, sir,’ said Ravenswood. Jack moved to stand immediately under the circle of yellow light thrown by the one light globe. ‘I have seen your face before . . . you were with a party of hikers or ramblers . . . from Oxford, if I recall.’
    ‘The name is Lewis,’ said Jack. Then he turned to Grimm and asked, ‘Is that sufficient identification?’
    ‘Should I . . . ’ Grimm began to ask, but Ravenswood interrupted him to say, ‘Yes, yes, yes, let him withdraw whatever he wishes against his passbook.’
    While this was going on, Warnie was looking the staircase up and down. ‘This is the place,’ he said quietly to me.
    ‘What place?’ I asked.
    ‘This must be where Lady Pamela stood, screaming, as she watched Sir Rafael Black butcher her boyfriend, Boris the footman.’ Then pointing at the floor below us he added, ‘That must be where the poor blighter was buried.’
    Jack having obtained his authorisation, we all turned to troop back up the stairs. But before we could take our first step, the door above us was thrust open and a young man burst in.