Day of Vengeance: Dorothy Martin investigates murder in the cathedral (A Dorothy Martin Mystery) (22 page)

‘You do realize that’s exactly what the gutter press is going to make of it.’

‘Oh, Lord, I suppose you’re right.’ I levered myself to my feet. ‘I’m dead. I’m going home before I fall asleep right here in your sitting room. Thanks for the drink and the company.’

I walked home through the soft spring night. Darkness had fully fallen, and the Cathedral organ was silent. I could see no light streaming from the stained-glass windows, though the Cathedral itself glowed, reflecting the light from the discreet spotlights trained on it from the Close. I shivered suddenly. It seemed suddenly an aloof, almost menacing presence, looming over the tiny humans who served it.

I was glad to get home, and very glad when both cats wanted to cuddle in my lap. I needed the warmth and comfort.

I
took Watson and a book to bed with me, intending to stay awake until Alan came home. I was sure I couldn’t sleep anyway, but I must have dropped off from sheer emotional exhaustion. I didn’t know a thing until Alan woke me with coffee.

‘Mmph. What time is it?’

‘Almost nine.’

‘In the morning?’

‘As ever was. I found you last night with the light on and an open book on your chest, and Watson sprawled over half the bed. Drink up, and let me know when you want some breakfast.’

I don’t know what I ever did to deserve such a jewel of a husband.

A shower completed my return to consciousness, and I went downstairs feeling almost ready to face the day.

Alan has learned how to make French toast, for which he has developed a quite un-British liking, although he claims the stuff would make any Frenchman cringe. So we had that for breakfast, along with some lovely sausages. Watson got his share of the sausage, of course, and when I finally pushed my plate away, I was sure I’d never want to eat again. ‘Salad for lunch,’ I proclaimed, and Alan just nodded. He knows quite well that I often feel hungrier by lunchtime than I think possible after a big breakfast.

‘Alan, I’ve been thinking,’ I said after a second cup of coffee had fully restored my faculties. ‘What we need is a council of war – you and me and Jonathan.’

‘War?’

‘Figure of speech. We need to get together, pool our ideas, work out how we’re going to track down Brading’s murderer.’

I expected an argument.
Leave it to the police, not our job, et cetera, et cetera.
He surprised me. ‘That’s very much the decision reached at the dean’s meeting after the press conference last night.’

‘Oh! I forgot all about that. I intended to find out about it when you got home; I really was dead to the world. Too much has been happening. Tell me about it.’

‘Dorothy, Kenneth was simply splendid. I’ve handled a fair number of press conferences in my time, but he outperformed anything I ever managed.’

‘What did he say?’

‘First of all, he stole their best line. He said that he knew what they must be thinking: some mad killer on the loose, targeting clergymen. And then he said, “If some of you ladies and gentlemen are broadcasting this conference live, and the killer is watching or listening, I hope he or she realizes that there’ll never be a better opportunity to bag a dozen or so of us at one fell swoop!” Of course, everyone roared, including the canons and the other clergy who were there. And then he changed tone and spoke of the vast sorrow of the Church as a whole, that a priest should feel so much despair as to take his own life, and he was sure that extenuating circumstances would be found that would make those actions perhaps easier to understand and forgive. And then – can you believe it? – he read a few of the more moving bits of the Burial Service and asked for a moment of silence and prayer for the Reverend Mr Lovelace. That shut off the questions they were panting to ask. Even the media aren’t quite so rude as to break into silent prayer offered by a dean in his own great cathedral!’

‘Brilliant!’

‘Then, before they could gather their wits again, Kenneth said that he was grateful to the press and the broadcast media for giving him this opportunity to “enlist the aid of the nation” – that was his exact phrase – in discovering the person who killed Dean Brading. He added that he and the Chapter would be in continual prayer for that person, who must, he said, be suffering great anguish of conscience. And then, to their vast astonishment, he pronounced a blessing and the dismissal. They were so caught up in the liturgical atmosphere he’d created that a lot of them responded with “Thanks be to God” before they could help themselves, and then found Kenneth had vanished. Now, what do you think of that?’

‘I think I owe him an apology. I’ve been feeling sorry for him, thinking he was entirely out of his depth and wondering how he could possibly cope. But the performance you’ve just described was nothing short of miraculous. The man’s turning out to be a genius.’

‘He credits it all to God, you know. When we met with him afterwards, Chapter and commission members, he said he hadn’t the slightest idea what he was going to say when he got up there in front of them all. He’d had no real time to prepare, so he had to wing it. “I was given the right words,” he insisted.’

‘And I believe him. So, what did you all talk about in the meeting?’

‘He expanded on his remarks about finding Brading’s murderer. He stressed that most of us had no experience in such matters, of course, so the main job would be simply to keep our eyes and ears open, and report any unusual behaviour to the proper authorities. He asked me, then, to give some pointers about what might constitute “unusual behaviour”. I obliged, listing some of the less obvious things such as lights being on or off at times that didn’t seem to fit the usual pattern, comings and goings, any changes in someone’s usual routine, as well as the moods and actions that usually constitute what one thinks of as behaviour. I also hammered home his point that they were to report anything they found odd, and on no account to try to take any action. And I do hope, my dear, that you are taking heed. Over the years, you’ve escaped any truly catastrophic consequences of some of your reckless acts of derring-do, but the law of averages is bound to catch up with you one of these days.’

I put my hand on his. ‘You know I don’t
try
to get into trouble. Somehow it just seems to follow me.’

‘
You
follow
it
.’

‘But not deliberately. The thing is, when I’m about to discover something important, I don’t actually abandon common sense. I consciously decide how far I can go without disaster. It’s just that sometimes my judgement is off by a hair’s breadth or two.’

‘Which is the main reason my hair is grey.’

‘That, and the number of birthdays you’ve had. Now, when are we going to convene our council?’

Alan sighed and pulled out his phone. ‘I’ll see what Jonathan’s schedule is for the next few days. And I think perhaps we’d best include Jane and Walter. Walter for his knowledge of Lovelace and the goings-on at St Barnabas’, and Jane for her knowledge of nearly everything and everyone.’

‘Good idea. Do you think we could possibly meet here? I’m so very tired of travelling, and the cats are acting much more clingy than usual. I think they’re feeling neglected.’

‘If Jonathan can bring Walter here, I think that’s an excellent suggestion.’

I tidied up the kitchen while Alan made his phone calls, and then I was about to head across my back garden to talk to Jane, when a hard little head butted my ankle, and a Siamese wail sounded. A quiet one, for a Siamese, but peremptory.

‘Sam, you rascal, you need attention, don’t you? Where’s Emmy?’

Samantha indicated, in her feline fashion, that she didn’t give a damn where Emmy was. She, Sam, was right here and wanted a lap. And I, come to think of it, wanted a break. So I picked up the willing cat and settled down on the sofa with her. Her purrs brought Esmeralda from wherever she’d been hanging out, so in no time at all I had two furry heads to stroke, two pairs of eyes gazing up at me (one pair green and one bright blue), and two sets of front paws ecstatically kneading my legs. It was only those paws, their needle-sharp claws occasionally coming through to skin, that kept me from falling asleep right there.

‘Cat therapy?’ asked Alan, walking into the room.

‘Mmm. Very soothing. The massage is a trifle painful, though.’ I tried to shove both of them away, but cats can gain weight at will and become immovable. If I persisted, the claws would come into play.

Alan grinned and walked into the kitchen, where he opened a cupboard door. That brought both the cats to full alert. Purrs stopped, ears pricked, whiskers stiffened. Then they heard Alan pop the lid off a can.

That did the trick, of course. It might be a can of soup or something equally boring, but it might be cat food or even, joy of joys, tuna! They shot off my lap, racing each other to the kitchen. I followed.

‘They don’t need any more food,’ I said. ‘They’re both getting fat. And so are you, dog.’ Because Watson had appeared, too, of course, and was jostling for position.

‘I know that, and you know it, but they would all disagree. They’re healthy. They deserve an occasional treat.’

Oh, well, what are pets for, if not to spoil?

‘Did you manage to reach Jonathan and Walter?’

‘Yes, and they’re both coming this afternoon. Tea time is the earliest they could make it. Jane’s free, too, and she said you were not to bother to bake anything. She’ll bring something.’

‘Whew! That’s a relief. I don’t know what we have in the house, and she’s a better baker than I am, anyway. But my word, Alan, the house! We’ve been home so little it looks like Miss Havisham’s parlour.’

He looked around with exaggerated horror. ‘No decaying wedding cake that I can see.’

‘Enough cat and dog hair to stuff a mattress, though. Would you rather vacuum or dust?’

Our house is very old – early seventeenth-century (although by English standards that’s only sort of middle-aged) – and has a good many nooks and crannies where dirt can accumulate. But it’s not very big, so with two of us working at top speed we got it back in good time to its usual state of slightly shabby, but orderly, comfort. I did make us salads for lunch, since we were going to have a more substantial tea than usual, and the animals were so tired, what with all their narrow escapes from the vacuum, that they didn’t even come to the kitchen to complain about the dearth of hand-outs.

After lunch I sat down in my tiny office and tried to put my thoughts in as good order as the house. There seemed to be so many threads to pursue, so many unconnected events, so many people to try to catalogue, that my head felt filled with mashed potatoes when the bell rang and Alan admitted our guests. Jane arrived a moment later with trays and baskets full of goodies, and we all sat down to a sumptuous tea: all my favourite sandwiches, and scones and jam tarts, and a plum cake that I would have eaten first of all if I hadn’t been taught manners.

We didn’t say much at first. The food was too good, and it was too pleasant to sit with good friends, rested, and with anxiety, if not banished, at least at bay. But when we were sated with food and had gone through three large pots of tea, I sat back. ‘Now, before we get to anything else, Walter, I have to know what happened to you. I’m perishing of curiosity.’

‘Gosh, I don’t know where to start.’

‘You went to St Barnabas’ to try to find evidence that Lovelace was embezzling,’ I prompted.

‘Yes. Dear old Jed let me in, and I went right to work in the office. I knew I had to work fast, because someone might come back any time, and then I was to meet Sue—’

‘Yes, we know about that. Go on.’

‘Well, I found the ledgers with no trouble. Mrs Steele had locked them up, of course, but she hadn’t locked her desk, and the keys were in the top drawer. It didn’t take me long to spot trouble. I’m no accountant, but they hadn’t even bothered to cover their tracks! I suppose Lovelace thought no one could ever possibly suspect him, great man that he was. I’m sorry – he’s dead, and I shouldn’t—’

‘Scoundrel!’ said Jane vehemently. ‘Deserves no sympathy!’

‘Well, anyway, I got interested in what I found. You wouldn’t believe what he managed to get away with! He’d received huge contributions from some businesses. He knew how to twist arms; I’ll give him that. That money was what was running the church and reviving the neighbourhood and all that, while he stole most of the offering from the plates. And I was making notes like mad, when I heard people talking, and realized it was Lovelace and Steele!

‘You can imagine how scared I was. If they caught me in there … well, I made tracks. There’s a little sort of storage room off the office, not used much, but it has a good big window. I ducked in there, pulled the door shut, and headed out the window. That was a bad moment, because I almost got stuck, and I had to more or less fall out of the window. I don’t know how I managed not to break something, but I was okay. And then I ran, across the car park at the back and in between buildings and I don’t know where. And when I finally fetched up on some street a long way away, I realized I had the ledgers under my arm. I hadn’t even remembered I had them.’

‘But that meant you really did have to get away.’

‘With bells on! I had some money, luckily, and I was close to a Tube station. So I just got on a train, I didn’t care where it was headed, and eventually found myself at Victoria Station. And I remembered, I don’t know why, about that ghastly Jack Everidge and his revolting family, and I thought I knew which station was nearest that country house, Ashhurst. I had just about enough for a cheap ticket, and I was pretty sure no one would think of looking for me there, so I climbed on the first train. Is there any water, Dorothy?’

‘Of course. Or there’s beer.’

‘Water will be lovely, thank you.’

When he had his water, he continued. ‘The station was really quite a long way from the house, and I was pretty cold and tired and hungry by the time I got there, but I was out of money. I didn’t think Jack’s parents would let me in, and I didn’t like them, anyway, so I dossed down in one of the barns. It was full of hay, and really quite cosy. And in the morning there was an apple tree, and a pump in the stable yard, so I was all right for food and water. I was worried about Sue, but I didn’t want to call her. I thought it was safer for her if she didn’t know where I was. The only thing was, I didn’t know quite what to do. I couldn’t exactly stay there for ever, and someone needed to know about the ledgers, but I didn’t dare call Gran, either, in case I endangered
her
. And I didn’t think the police would believe a word of what I had to say, not to mention the fact that I had in my possession stolen ledgers. I didn’t have your phone numbers.’ He nodded to Alan and me. ‘And then Jonathan came along, and Gran had told me about him, so I thought I could trust him, and … here I am.’