by P. D. James
Again there was a silence.
Dalgliesh said, “Tell me what happened on Saturday night. Think back and think clearly. I want every detail.”
Surtees was calmer now. He seemed to be drawing himself up and the colour was again blotching his cheeks. He said, “I waited until very late. I had to be sure they would all be asleep or at least in their rooms. And the storm was a help. I didn’t think they’d be going for a walk. It was about a quarter to midnight when I started out.”
“Wearing?”
“Just my dark brown corduroys and a thick leather jacket. No light clothes. We thought it would be safer to wear dark clothes, but I wasn’t disguised.”
“Did you wear gloves?”
“No. We I didn’t think it was necessary. I’ve only got thick gardening gloves and an old woollen pair. I’d have had to take them off to pick up the wafer, cope with the locks, and I didn’t think it mattered not wearing gloves. No one would know there had been a theft. They wouldn’t miss one wafer, they’d think they’d miscounted. That’s what I argued. I’ve just got the two keys, one to the iron gate and the other to the door from the north cloister. Usually I don’t need them during the day as the gate and the doors from both the cloisters are left open. I knew that the church keys were in Miss Ramsey’s office. Sometimes at festivals like Easter I give them flowers or greenery. Father Sebastian would ask me to leave them in a bucket of water in the sacristy. There’s always one of the students who’s good at decorating the church. Sometimes Father Sebastian hands me the keys or he tells me to get them from the office, lock up carefully after me and return them. We’re supposed to sign for the church keys if we take them but sometimes people don’t bother.”
“They made it very easy for you, didn’t they? But then, it isn’t difficult to steal from people who trust you.”
There was a second when Dalgliesh was simultaneously aware of the note of contempt in his voice and of Kate’s unspoken surprise. He told himself that this was too close to personal involvement.
Surtees said, with more confidence than he had shown before, “I wasn’t going to hurt anyone, I couldn’t hurt anyone. And even if I’d managed to steal the wafer, no one at the college would have been hurt. I don’t think they’d even have known. It was just one wafer. It wouldn’t have cost more than a penny.”
Dalgliesh said, “So let’s get back to what exactly happened on Saturday night. We’ll leave out the excuses and justification. We’ll stick to the facts, all the facts.”
“Well, as I said, it was about a quarter to twelve when I set out. The college was very dark and the wind was howling. There was only one light and that was in one of the guest-rooms and the curtains were drawn. I used my key to get into the college through the back door, then past the scullery and into the main part of the house. I had a torch with me so I didn’t need to put on any of the lights, but there was one light burning beneath the statue of the Madonna and Child in the main hall. I had a story ready if anyone appeared. I was going to say that I thought I’d seen a light from inside the church and was coming to get the keys to investigate. I knew it would sound unconvincing but I wasn’t really expecting to have to use it. I took the keys and went out again the way I’d come in, locking the door behind me. I put out the cloister lights and kept close to the wall. There wasn’t any trouble with the mortice lock to the sacristy, it’s always kept oiled and the key turned very easily. I pushed open the door very gently, lighting my way with the torch and turned off the alarm system.
“I was beginning to feel less frightened and more optimistic; it had all gone so easily. I knew where the wafers would be, of course, to the right of the altar in a kind of alcove with a red light shining above it. They keep consecrated wafers there in case one of the priests has to take them out to someone who is sick in the community, or sometimes they are taken to a communion service at one of the village churches where they don’t have a priest. I had an envelope in my pocket and I was going to put the wafer inside. But when I pushed open the door into the church I saw there was someone there. It wasn’t empty.”
Again he paused. Dalgliesh resisted temptation to comment or question. Surtees had his head bowed, his hands clasped in front of him. He looked as if remembering had suddenly become an effort.
He said, “There was a light on at the north end of the church, the light over the Doom. And there was someone standing there, a figure in a brown cloak and hood.”
It was Kate who couldn’t resist the question: “Did you recognize him?”
“No. He was partly behind a pillar and the light was too dim. And the hood was up over his head.”
“Tall or short?”
“I think about average, not particularly tall. I can’t really remember. And then, in the minute while I watched, the big south door opened and someone came in. I didn’t recognize him either. I didn’t really see him, I just heard him call out “Where are you?” and then I shut the door. I knew the whole thing was off. There was nothing for it but to lock up after me and go back to the cottage.”
Dalgliesh said, “Are you absolutely certain that you recognized neither of the figures?”
“Quite certain. I never saw either face. I didn’t really see the second man at all.”
“But you know it was a man?”
“Well, I heard the voice.”
Dalgliesh said, “Who do you think it was?”
“Judging from the voice, I think it might have been the Archdeacon.”
“So he must have spoken quite loudly?”
Surtees flushed. He said unhappily, “I suppose it must have been quite loud. It didn’t seem so at the time. Of course the church was very quiet and the voice sort of echoed. I can’t be certain it was the Archdeacon. It’s just the impression I had at the time.”
It was apparent he could tell them nothing more certain about the identity of either figure. Dalgliesh asked him what he had done after leaving the church.
“I reset the alarm, locked the door behind me and went out through the courtyard past the south door of the church. I don’t think it was open or even ajar. I can’t remember seeing a light but I wasn’t really noticing. I was just anxious to get away. I battled my way across the headland against the wind and told Karen what had happened. I was hoping I’d have a chance to return the keys some time on Sunday morning but when we were sent for to go to the library and were told about the murder, I knew it wouldn’t be possible.”
“So what did you do with them?”
Surtees said miserably, “I buried them in a corner of the pig pen.”
Dalgliesh said, “When this interview is over, Sergeant Robbins will go with you to recover them.”
Surtees made to get up but Dalgliesh said, “I said when the interview is over. It isn’t over yet.”
The information they had just gained was the most important they had been given so far, and he had to resist the temptation to follow it up at once. But first it was necessary to get what confirmation he could of Surtees’s story.
Summoned by Kate, Karen Surtees came into the room with no apparent sign of nervousness, seated herself beside her half-brother without waiting for Dalgliesh’s invitation, hitched her black shoulder-bag onto the back of the chair and turned immediately towards Surtees.
“You all right, Eric? No third degree?”
“Yes, I’m all right. I’m sorry, Karen. I’ve told them.” He said again, “I’m sorry.”
“What for? You did your best. It wasn’t your fault there was someone in the church. You tried. Just as well for the police that you did. I hope they’re grateful.”
Surtees’s eyes had brightened at the sight of her and there was an almost palpable sense of her fortifying strength passing through him as she briefly laid her hand on his. His words had been apologetic but there had been nothing servile in the look he gave her. Dalgliesh recognized the most dangerous of complications love.
And now she turned her attention to him, fixing on him a concentrated and chal
lenging gaze. Her eyes widened and he thought she was suppressing a secretive smile.
Dalgliesh said, “Your brother has admitted that he was in the church on Saturday night.”
“Early Sunday morning. It was after midnight. And he’s my half-brother same dad, different mothers.”
Dalgliesh said, “So you told my officers earlier. I’ve heard his story. I’d like to hear yours.”
“It will be much the same as Eric’s. He’s not much good at lying, as you’ve probably discovered. That can be inconvenient at times but it has its advantages. Well, it’s no great deal. He hasn’t done anything wrong and the idea that he could hurt anyone, let alone kill them, is ridiculous. He can’t even kill his own pigs! I asked him to get me a consecrated wafer from the church. If you don’t go in for these things, I can tell you that they’re small white discs made, I imagine, of flour and water, about the size of a two-penny piece. Even if he’d managed to get one and been caught, I can’t see the magistrates committing him to the Crown Court for sentence. Value -insignificant.”
Dalgliesh said, “It depends on your scale of values. Why did you want it?”
“I don’t see what that has to do with your present inquiry, but I don’t mind telling you. I’m a freelance journalist and I’m writing an article on the Black Mass. It’s been commissioned, by the way, and I’ve done most of the research. The people I’ve succeeded in infiltrating need a consecrated wafer and I promised to get one. And don’t say that I could have bought a whole box of unconsecrated wafers for a quid or two. That was Eric’s argument. This is genuine research and I needed the genuine article. You may not respect my job but I take it as seriously as you take yours. I’d promised to provide a consecrated wafer and that was what I was going to do. The research would have been a waste of time otherwise.”
“So you persuaded your half-brother to steal it for you.”
“Well, Father Sebastian wasn’t going to give me one if I asked nicely, was he?”
“Your brother went alone?”
“Of course. No sense in my tagging along and adding to the risk. At a pinch he could justify being in the college. I couldn’t.”
“But you did wait up for him?”
“It wasn’t a question of waiting up. We’d never actually been to bed, at least not to sleep.”
“So you heard his account of what happened immediately he got back, not next morning?”
“He told me as soon as he got back. I was waiting and he told me.”
“Miss Surtees, this is very important. Please think back and try to remember exactly what you were told and in your brother’s words.”
“I don’t think I can remember the exact words but the sense was plain enough. He told me he’d had no problem in getting the key. He opened the sacristy door by the light of his torch and then the door leading into the church. It was then he saw the light over that oil painting opposite the main door, the Doom, isn’t it? And a figure standing close to it wearing a cloak and hood. Then the main door opened and someone else came in. I asked him if he recognized either figure and he said he didn’t. The one in the cloak had the hood up and his back to him and he only had a brief glimpse of the second man. He thought that the second figure called out “Where are you?” or something like that. The impression he got was that it could have been the Archdeacon.”
“And he didn’t suggest to you at all who the other figure might have been?”
“No, but he wouldn’t, would he? I mean, he didn’t think there was anything sinister about seeing a cloaked figure in the church. It mucked things up for us and it was odd at that time of night, but he naturally assumed that it was one of the priests or one of the students. I assumed the same. God knows what they were doing there after midnight. They could have been having their own Black Mass for all we cared. Obviously if Eric had known the Archdeacon was going to be murdered he’d have taken more notice. At least I suppose he would. What do you think you’d have done, Eric, faced with a murderer with a knife?”
Surtees looked at Dalgliesh as he replied.
“Run away, I suppose. I’d have raised the alarm, of course. The guest sets aren’t locked so I’d probably have rushed into Jerome for your help. At the time I was just disappointed that I’d managed to get the key without being seen and it was beginning to seem so easy and now I’d have to go back and say I’d failed.”
There was nothing more to be learned from him at present and Dalgliesh told him that he could go, first warning them both that the information they had given must be kept absolutely secret. They had clearly put themselves in danger of the charge of obstructing the police if not something more serious. Sergeant Robbins would now go with Surtees to recover the keys which would be kept in police possession. Both gave the assurance demanded, Eric Surtees with as much formality as if taking a solemn oath, his sister ungraciously.
As Surtees finally got up to go his half-sister got up too, but Dalgliesh said, “I’d like you to stay if you would, Miss Surtees. I’ve one or two further questions.”
As the door closed behind her half-brother, Dalgliesh said, “When I first began talking to your brother, he said that you wanted him to get you another wafer. So this wasn’t the first time. An earlier attempt had been made. What happened on the first occasion?”
She sat very still, but her voice was composed when she answered.
“Eric made a slip of the tongue. There was only this once.”
T don’t think so. Of course, I could get him back and ask him, and indeed I shall ask him. But it would be simpler if you explained to me now what happened on the previous occasion.”
She said defensively, “It had nothing to do with this murder. It happened last term.”
“I must be the judge of what relates to this murder. Who stole the wafer for you the time before ?”
“It wasn’t stolen that time, not precisely. It was handed over to me.”
“Was it by Ronald Treeves?”
“Yes, it was, if you must know. Some of the wafers are consecrated and taken to churches round about where temporarily there isn’t a priest and where there’s to be Holy Communion. The wafers are consecrated and taken to the church by whoever is going to take or help with the service. That was Ronald’s job that week and he took out one wafer for me. One wafer out of so many. It was a small thing to ask.”
Kate suddenly intervened.
“You must have known that it wasn’t a small thing for him to do. How did you pay him? The obvious way?”
The girl flushed, but with anger not embarrassment. For a moment Dalgliesh thought she would flare into open antagonism; it would, he thought, have been justified. He said quietly, I’m sorry if you found that offensive. I’ll rephrase it. How did you manage to persuade him?”
Her momentary outrage was over. Now she looked at him from narrowed calculating eyes, then visibly relaxed. He could identify the second when she realized that candour would be more prudent and perhaps more satisfying.
She said, “All right, I persuaded him in the obvious way, and if you’re thinking of handing out moral judgement you can forget it. Anyway, it’s none of your business.” She glanced over at Kate and the look was frankly hostile.
“Or hers. And I don’t see what relevance all this has to the Archdeacon’s murder. They can’t possibly be related.”
Dalgliesh said, “The truth is that I can’t be sure. They could be. If they aren’t, none of this will be used. I’m not asking about the theft of the wafer out of prurient curiosity about your private life.”
She said, “Look, I rather liked Ronald. OK, maybe it was more that I felt sorry for him. He wasn’t exactly popular here. Papa too rich, too powerful, wrong business too. In armaments isn’t he? Anyway, Ronald didn’t really fit in. When I came down to stay with Eric we’d meet occasionally and walk along the cliffs to the mere. We’d talk.
He told me things you wouldn’t be able to get out of him in a million years, and nor would these priests, confession or no con
fession. And I did him a favour. He was twenty-three and a virgin. Look, he was desperate for sex dying for it.”
Perhaps, thought Dalgliesh, he had died for it. He heard the continuing voice, “Seducing him wasn’t exactly a chore. Men make a fuss about seducing female virgins. God knows why, exhausting and unrewarding I’d have thought, but the other way has its excitements. And if you want to know how we kept it from Eric, we didn’t go to bed in the cottage, we made love in the bracken on the cliffs. He was a damn sight luckier to have me initiating him than going with a whore which he’d tried once and then got so disgusted he couldn’t see it through.” She paused, and as Dalgliesh didn’t speak, went on more defensively.
“He was training to be a priest, wasn’t he? What use would he be to other people if he hadn’t lived? He used to go on about the grace of celibacy and I suppose celibacy is all right if that’s your thing. But, believe me, it wasn’t his. He was lucky to find me.”
Dalgliesh said, “What happened to the wafer?”
“Oh God, that was bad luck! You’ll hardly believe this. I lost it. I put it into a plain envelope and pushed it into my briefcase with other papers. That’s the last I saw of it. It probably fell into the waste-paper basket when I pulled the papers out of the briefcase. Anyway, I haven’t found it.”
“So you wanted him to get you another and this time he was less compliant.”
“You could put it like that. He must have been thinking things over in the vacation. You’d think I’d ruined his life instead of contributing to his sexual education.”
Dalgliesh said, “And within a week he was dead.”
“Well, I’m not responsible for that. I didn’t want him dead.”
“So you think it could have been murder?”
This time she gazed at him appalled, and he saw both surprise and terror in her eyes.
“Murder? Of course it wasn’t murder! Who the hell would want to murder him? It was accidental death. He started poking around in the cliffs and brought the sand down on himself. There was an inquest. You know what the verdict was.”