Murder at the Altar Read online

  He was nothing if not gallant. ‘You do more than just help out, I hear. That place would collapse without you. I always said to my dear wife when she was with me …’

  His dear wife had upped and gone off with a wealthy businessman two years ago.

  ‘… that behind every successful man, there is a mighty fine woman and let’s face it, where would Frank have been without you, eh?’

  Ellie’s eyes rounded in surprise. Was Archie Benjamin making a pass at her? She was afraid she was going to get the giggles.

  She said, ‘You wanted to see me about something?’

  He shuffled back in his seat. ‘No, no. I wanted to see you, of course, to see how you were, offer to help in any way … and I didn’t plan to bother you about the other matter yet, but as you’ve raised the subject … the fact is that there’s the PCC meeting at church coming up and we’re stuck for the minutes of the last one, which Frank took. He doesn’t seem to have sent them out before he …

  ‘Now I don’t want you to bother your head looking for them, but before I go, if you’d allow me, I could just take a shufti around in his study and see if I can find them. Frank was always so efficient, they’re probably in a pile somewhere, all run off and waiting to be delivered.’

  Ellie disliked the thought of rooting around in Frank’s study, but on the other hand, she really did not want this tacky little man going in there by himself. She wondered how she’d gone so quickly from tepid liking to active dislike.

  ‘I’ll look for them tomorrow and if I find them, I’ll drop them in to your house.’

  She expected him to go now but instead he leaned back and laced his fingers across his waistcoat, ready for a gossip.

  ‘A little bird told me Mrs Dawes came to you for tea and sympathy when she found the body in the church. I said to my secretary, “It sounds as if young Ferdy was seeking sanctuary in the church.”’ He laughed, fatly. ‘Sanctuary from his sins. Get it?’

  Ellie inclined her head, wondering not why his wife had left him, but why it had taken her so long to do so.

  ‘Mustn’t speak ill of the dead, I suppose. I saw him, you know, just after he’d had words with the vicar. Quite a lively exchange. About that van of his, of course. He’d parked it right across the church hall entrance with the stereo going full blast. I said to him – to the vicar, I mean – it was lucky I happened to come along straight after, gave him an alibi, what?’

  ‘Why should the vicar need an alibi? Wasn’t it a hit and run accident?’

  ‘That’s what we all thought, wasn’t it? Hit and run and then dump the body. But the police came round doing house-to-house enquiries and they were very interested in what I had to say.’

  He leaned forward, all confidentiality. ‘I happened to see young Ferdy standing by his van as I drove back from work. He was looking after the vicar with such a wicked expression on his face. If looks could kill, you know? The vicar saw me and came across the road to ask about the missing PCC notes. Then as I was putting the car in the garage I noticed Ferdy quarrelling with that girl who’s just moved in next door to you … what’s her name? Kate something.’

  Ellie’s eyes went to the door leading to the hall. These houses were semi-detached. The previous owners had been very quiet, but since Kate and her husband had moved in Ellie had heard disturbing noises through the party wall. Shouting. Banging of doors. The odd scream.

  Ellie had even had a nightmare in which Kate had been running along the alley, weeping.

  Ellie frowned. Was that what she’d been trying to remember while she was talking to Mrs Hanna? Kate running along the alley … not towards her own house, but away from it? Crying?

  The more Ellie homed in on the memory, the more she wondered if it had really happened or just been one of the awful dreams she’d been having lately. She’d been sleeping so badly that in addition to the pills the doctor had given her for daytime use, she’d resorted to sleeping pills. Nothing very strong, just herbal ones. They’d not been all that efficient, though. Several nights since Frank died she’d wandered around the house and thought she’d gone back to bed only to wake up in her armchair downstairs instead.

  She was feeling a little better since she’d stopped taking the pills in the daytime.

  She really could not be sure whether it had been a dream or not. Anyway, it was none of her business what Kate did.

  Archie hadn’t noticed her temporary abstraction.

  ‘… so I told the police they’d better check that young woman out. Local girl married well, isn’t she? Husband got a good job somewhere? Must be doing well, to have bought the house next door. I don’t suppose you’ve had much to do with them?’

  ‘They only moved in a month ago, just before Frank …’

  ‘… you won’t have had time to get to know her, then. Best keep it that way, in case. It rather looks as if she quarrelled with the lad, hit him over the head with something … she’s a tall girl, isn’t she? Well-built, always frowning, got a nasty temper, I wouldn’t wonder. And that boy Ferdy wasn’t tall. She could have killed him and then run over him with his own van to make it look like a hit and run accident.’

  Archie was enjoying himself, relishing his reconstruction of the death. Ellie felt slightly sick.

  She stood up. ‘It’s getting late and I mustn’t keep you. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can find your minutes.’

  Flustered, he got to his feet. ‘Feeling a bit tired, are we? Thought you might like it if I prayed with you for a while … consolation, and so on.’

  The skin crawled down Ellie’s back. ‘That’s kind of you, but perhaps another time.’

  She saw him out, promising that yes, she’d call him whenever she felt she needed someone to talk to. And not meaning it.

  The lights stayed on in Mrs Hanna’s flat until two o’clock in the morning. Soon after they were switched off, a car drove away. Ellie woke at four in the morning, wept till five, went down to make herself a cuppa and finished the night off in the big chair in the lounge. She woke from another bad dream, but that was the usual one about looking for Frank through a series of hospital doors. Not about Kate.

  If her ‘dream’ about Kate in the alley had been a true memory, then why had the girl been running away from her house, and not towards it? It worried Ellie. She wondered whether Mrs Hanna had heard Archie’s story about Kate, and if the police had taken it seriously. She would not think about it. It was none of her business, despite Mrs Hanna’s demand for help.

  Ellie put the radio on for company.

  Another day.

  She would make a list of all the difficult things she had to do, and try to

  do one each day. She supposed she ought to ring Aunt Drusilla. If the opportunity arose, she would also talk to Kate next door, not because Mrs Hanna wished her to make enquiries, but because Ellie was uneasy about the girl.

  Archie Benjamin had assumed Ellie didn’t know Kate but they had met in the alley once or twice and had talked over the hedge. Commonplace observations, nothing important, but laying the building blocks for a good relationship with her neighbour in the future.

  Ellie had liked the girl and was disturbed to think Kate might be mixed up in Ferdy’s death.

  Could Kate actually have killed him? Instinct said no.

  True, the girl’s face in repose did have a brooding look, probably due to her rather heavy dark eyebrows and strong chin, but she lit up when she smiled. Her hair was always well groomed, her clothes unobtrusive but high quality, and she had an excellent figure.

  Of course, thought Ellie with a sigh, the girl did have the height and the broad shoulders to carry off designer clothing. At five foot two, Ellie usually had to shorten her skirts to keep them off the ground. She remembered that Frank had once called her a pocket Venus. But that was way back when …

  Ellie made herself a cup of tea and resolutely thought about the couple next door. Her kitchen and front downstairs room – Frank’s study – adjoined Kate’s, but there was no so
und of life today from the other side of the wall. Of course, Kate went off to work early, as did her husband. Had Kate said he taught at the high school?

  Ellie thought about the noises they’d been making next door. Banging doors, screams, feet pounding up the stairs. Noises to be expected when a teasing newly married wife was being chased up the stairs by an amorous husband. Ellie had been slightly amused by the noises until she’d been so distracted by Frank’s sudden illness that she’d forgotten about them.

  Ellie thought, I must take Frank up his cup of tea.

  And remembered.

  She did not cry but turned to look out over the garden. It had rained hard all night, which would make the job of clearing up the leaves more difficult. The Michaelmas daisies were making a fine show and the chrysanths were coming along nicely. The pyracantha berries had turned bright red, and as the leaves dropped away from the viburnum fragrans, its dark pink flower buds opened, glowing in the dark November day. She would deal with the leaves on the lawn today.

  First things first. She must be practical. She got a plastic bag and emptied the bathroom cabinet of Frank’s shaving things, his aftershave, soap, pills …

  Pills hadn’t helped him. He’d prided himself on keeping fit, taking vitamin supplements, brisk walks.

  She was not going to cry. She’d cried enough for one day.

  She tied the bag up firmly, and dumped it in the dustbin with last week’s Radio Times and free local newspaper, still unread. Should she cancel the daily papers? She hadn’t read them for days.

  Frank had taken a keen interest in all forms of the media. The Internet. The Independent. Watching the news.

  She set out for the shops. She must buy lots of fresh fruit and vegetables. Perhaps a little fish. It was too far to go to the supermarket, but luckily most things could be found in the Avenue.

  Most people, too.

  Everyone she met wanted to talk about Ferdy’s death. Only a few mentioned Frank, saying the usual things; how sorry they were to hear about him, what a shock it had been, how much she must miss him. Some of them meant it. Some crossed the road rather than speak to her.

  It takes all sorts.

  A cold day. The leaves stirred damply under her feet as she walked back from the shops with her purchases. Spiderman was waiting outside her front door, shifting from one foot to the other while searching through his pockets. Their vicar, the Reverend Gilbert Adams.

  ‘Dear Ellie, I was going to leave you a note.’ Tall, ungainly, bespectacled, concerned for her. He held her shoulders, kissed her cheek and stood back to take a good look. ‘I can see you’re coping. You’re one of the strong ones.’

  ‘Hmph!’ said Ellie. ‘I bet you say that to all the widows.’ ‘I do, and occasionally I mean it.’

  She laughed. ‘Tea, coffee, or a sherry? I think there was some sherry

  left in a bottle after …’ She swallowed.

  Gilbert nodded. He knew all about wakes and sherry and how much alcohol might be left afterwards. Sherry, the best chair. Frank’s chair. Well, she had to get used to other people sitting in that.

  She hadn’t meant to complain, but the words burst out of her. ‘Sometimes I get so angry with him for dying like that. And I cry a lot, don’t sleep well.’

  ‘To be expected. Better than denying it.’ He leant forward to put his hand on her knee. ‘Don’t let anyone tell you to keep a stiff upper lip. Cry all you want …’

  ‘… but not in public?’

  He laughed. ‘You’ll do. I hear you handled Mrs Dawes brilliantly.’

  ‘She just needed to talk. It was a shock.’

  ‘Yes, it was. I’m sorry for Mrs Hanna. If you’ve got a moment, perhaps you’d like to drop by her place. She lives in one of the flats above the shops in the Avenue. I’ve got the number somewhere …’ Again he started to search his pockets.

  ‘I saw her yesterday. She practically accused me of having seen the murder and ignoring it. No, I exaggerate, but she did think I ought to have seen something. She asked me to help her find out … Of course it’s ridiculous. The police will deal with it. I’m sorry for her, but … someone said you identified the body. Was he badly marked?’

  ‘No. The back of his head was a mess. I suppose he hit the kerb when he was knocked down and then got dumped in the church to delay pursuit. His van’s missing, you know. I’d told him off about leaving it across the entrance to the church hall that very evening. I suppose whoever knocked him down had a passenger who drove the van away … who knows?’

  Ellie thought of Archie and his tale about Kate. ‘It’s not murder, then?’

  The vicar stared. ‘Not that I’ve heard, no.’ So much for Archie’s gossip.

  Gilbert finished his drink. ‘Well, to business. Frank was a great guy, and we’re all going to miss him. He and Archie Benjamin were the driving force behind so much that we’re doing in the parish. I know Frank relied on you to help him in everything he did and I’m hoping that a bit later on, when you’re feeling more settled, you’ll perhaps take on one or two of his jobs for us?’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly. I mean, I did help Frank out with some typing sometimes, but that was all.’

  ‘You underrate yourself, Ellie. I’ve never known anyone as cool as you in a crisis.’

  She was amused. He didn’t half know how to lay it on!

  ‘I know it’s too soon for you to make any major decisions, but …’ with a comical look, ‘if you can spare a thought for our next crisis …’

  ‘The notes for the PCC meeting? I looked last night but couldn’t find them. I suppose Frank must have put them on his word processor because he always did that straight after the meetings, but he can’t have run them off yet.’

  ‘Well, you can run them off for us, can’t you?’

  ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t know how. The computer was Frank’s toy and I never touched it. He was afraid I might erase an important document or damage it in some way. I must admit, I’m rather frightened of it. I used my old electric typewriter if he wanted me to type anything up.’

  He frowned. In her fragile state she interpreted this as a criticism of her inadequacy. She hadn’t meant to cry. She jumped up and went to stand in the window overlooking the garden. He put his arm about her, and pulled her close.

  ‘Sorry. I’m being stupid.’

  He kissed her cheek. ‘Ellie, you know I was very fond of Frank, but he did tend to underrate you. Believe in yourself, my dear. You’re a great girl.’

  She sniffed. To be called a ‘girl’ twice that week was too much. Still, it was nice to be appreciated.

  She said, ‘Suppose I see if I can find the manual and work out how to run the notes off? But you’ll have to give me time. It’s all too much, too soon.’

  ‘You should join the choir, take your mind off things.’

  She tried to laugh. ‘That would put the choir off singing for good! Frank always said I couldn’t hold a tune to save my life!’

  ‘Stand by someone with a loud voice, and no one will notice.’

  He went off without even offering to pray with her. She didn’t mind that. She knew he was praying for her at the moment. She couldn’t pray for herself yet. But perhaps it would come.

  She felt much comforted by his visit.

  Only, later that day she remembered that the Reverend Gilbert Adams

  – though a delightfully caring pastor – did have a reputation for ‘warm personal contact’ with the widows of his parish. And, or so gossip reported, with their exceedingly plain but talented unmarried organist!

  A nice man, she thought, but she wasn’t going to take his winning ways at face value. Particularly since he had a delightful wife who understood him perfectly.

  At the bakery they were short-handed. Where was Mrs Hanna? Was she ill?

  She hadn’t rung to say she was ill. But they were too busy to send anyone looking for her.

  Ellie wondered if she should pop round and have a chat with Kate. But there was still no so
und of movement next door. She tried to work out what day of the week it was. The funeral had been on Tuesday. The house had been full of his friends and relatives. Some of them – particularly Aunt Drusilla – had lingered for hours. Diana and her wishy-washy husband Stewart had stayed over till Wednesday afternoon and then gone back north.

  Mrs Dawes had found the body on Thursday. Ellie knew it must have been Thursday because Mrs Dawes had mentioned that she’d just come from her flower-arranging class. Therefore, Ferdy had been killed some time after Archie had come home from work on Wednesday. Ellie would have been alone in the house by then.

  Mrs Hanna seemed to think that Ellie must have seen something of the murder. Now she came to think about it, it was odd that she hadn’t because since Frank died, she’d stood at that window for hours on end, looking up at the church. She tried to think back, to imagine herself standing there the day after the funeral. Surely she would have seen if anything untoward had occurred up at the church?

  No, it was a blank. She couldn’t even remember if it had rained or not. Yesterday she’d been shopping for herself and Mrs Dawes. Then Archie Benjamin had called. That would have been Friday. So today was Saturday. Or was it? The shops had been open, so it couldn’t have been Sunday. She scrabbled for the day’s paper, but then wasn’t sure whether it was today’s or yesterday’s. She found the new Radio Times and turned the television on to check on the programmes. Yes, it was Saturday.

  It was a relief to have that straightened out in her mind. What had she wanted to know for?

  She’d wanted to talk to Kate. It was odd that neither of them were at

  home at a weekend. Ellie peered out of the front window on to the street, but couldn’t see Kate’s car. Or his. She wasn’t good at remembering whose car was which, but she knew Kate’s car number, because it had the letters FLU in it. They must have gone away for the weekend.

  Very well, she’d go and see if she could find the manual for the word processor instead. There was nothing so frustrating as trying to understand a manual if you didn’t even know what language it was written in. This particular manual might as well have been written in Chinese for all the sense it made to Ellie. She tried to turn the machine on. Nothing happened. After a long wait she tried again with a firmer touch. This time she succeeded in conjuring up some incomprehensible language which to her horror disappeared before she could decipher it. A sort of brightly coloured flag. Then a whirligigging arrow and a clock on the picture of the inside of a station. It looked like Paddington station to her.