by L. A. Nisula
“My clerks and I carried him out the back. It was the only way I could think to sneak him out of the shop.”
“Do you mind if I have a look?”
“No, go right ahead.” He was so ready to be accommodating, I guessed he was eager to be rid of me. Still, I didn’t have any other questions for him, so I followed him through the back of the shop and out the storeroom door, which I noticed was still kept open, to the small street behind the shop.
I spent a few minutes poking around the streets behind the cheese shop. Despite appearances, the churchyard wasn’t far from the cheese shop if one cut through a few small lanes. The more direct route would have been impractical for moving a body, easily seen by a fair bit of the village, but the less obvious route passed behind the shops. If they were lucky and no one was looking out of their back windows at the moment, it would have been a fairly safe operation.
Once I got to the churchyard, I found myself wishing I’d asked Mr. Elliott exactly where he’d left Mr. Hoyt’s body. The churchyard was much larger than I’d anticipated, large enough to have three different gates in the surrounding wall, although I suppose I ought to have expected that in the country; I was used to the crowded spaces of London. The path I’d taken left me near the side gate to the churchyard, by an area towards the back that was still somewhat free of gravestones. It would have been a convenient place for Mr. Elliott to have left the body, relatively hidden, and one that seemed to fit his logic as there was nothing much there besides the gate, but it wasn’t far from the graves already there. It was also a place he could leave the body and quickly walk back to the shop. It seemed a good idea to use the location as a working theory anyway. I could always try to go back and ask him specifically where he’d left Mr. Hoyt once he’d recovered from my first bout of questioning. Provided he would speak to me again.
So if this was where the body had been left, how did that help me determine how it had gotten from the churchyard to Mulberry Cottage? A witness would have been helpful, but if there had been a witness, why hadn’t they gone to the police? Not that anyone in this case seemed to have thought of going to the police. Still, someone might have seen something. So how to go about finding them?
“I’m afraid the vicar isn’t here, miss. Is there something I can help you with?”
I looked up and saw an older lady coming down the path with what looked like flowers that had been on display a little too long, droopy and starting to turn brown. It seemed I wouldn’t have to go looking too far for witnesses, then. “I hope so. I was looking for someone who might have been here yesterday morning.”
“Wouldn’t be the vicar, then. He’s been at a meeting at his old college and not expected back until Saturday, although he might be coming sooner now. And I wasn’t in either, not my day, and really, Mrs. Avery shouldn’t have volunteered to come in Mondays if she’s not going to change the water in the vases. These should have lasted another two days at least. I think Mr. Simmons was going to do some tidying the yard, but I don’t know when he was here. He’s the groundskeeper here and at the manse. If you’d like to ask him, he’s just inside, moving the chairs. We never have enough chairs for our meetings. Go right on through. I’m going to get rid of these and see if I can convince Mrs. Todd to let me take some of her irises. They look so nice in those tall vases.”
I stepped aside so she could pass through the gate then went up to the path myself and into the church.
It was a very nice church, Gothic, with some very nice Renaissance carvings and modern stained glass. I spotted Mr. Simmons at once. He was indeed moving chairs around, making a circle near the front of the church between two empty vases where presumably Mrs. Todd’s irises would go.
“I’m getting done, ladies. Hold your horses. Oh, hello, miss. Chairs again. They really ought to leave them set-up from one meeting to another, but I don’t want to be the one to tell them. Were you looking for the vicar? He’s in Cambridge.”
“So I was told. I was actually looking for someone who was here yesterday morning.”
“I was here doing the bushes early, will that do?”
He seemed willing to be helpful, which was promising, but he hadn’t immediately thought I was interested in the murder, which meant he probably didn’t know anything. Still, it was worth trying. “How early?”
“Almost as soon as it got light. Looked like it might get hot, so I wanted to be done before it did. Turned out to be a nice day though, and I got to spend most of it at the pub with the work all done, so worked out well for me after all. Not what you wanted, eh? What time did you want?”
“Closer to noon.”
“Can’t help you, then. You might try Mr. Reynolds. I saw him coming into the village from this direction. He might have seen something.”
Probably on his way to see Mr. Burton, so too early, but it was worth a try. “Do you know where I could find him?”
“I’d try the grocers on the high street. He sells a fair bit of his tinned goods there. If he’s not there, they might know where to find him. Or you could try the pub. It’s getting about time when he’d be wanting something to eat, and he’s a regular there.”
“Thank you.” I assumed the grocers was Mr. Burton’s shop, and I’d seen Mr. Reynolds there yesterday, so it seemed highly unlikely he’d be back today. Still, Mr. Burton might know his schedule, and I could get a sandwich there, if nothing else.
“And if he’s not in the village, his cottage is about fifteen minutes outside the village in the other direction. Foxwood Cottage. Just past the crossing. Can’t miss it.”
“Thanks again.” It was too bad Mr. Simmons hadn’t been in the churchyard at the right time. I had the feeling he would have seen anything there was to see.
“And you’re welcome to walk around the churchyard and have a look. All sorts of interesting old graves. Used to do rubbings of them when I was a lad. The ladies won’t be here for half-an-hour or so, so plenty of time to have a look if you don’t want to be seen.”
“Maybe I will. It looks lovely.” I’d barely looked at as I came through, being much too concerned about tracking Mr. Hoyt’s movements, but the compliment seemed to please Mr. Simmons, and as I thought about it, looking around didn’t seem a bad idea. If I could find where the body had been left, I might be able to find some clue. But half-an-hour didn’t seem long enough for a proper search, and Mr. Simmons was right, I didn’t want to run into the ladies coming for their meeting, so that left questioning Mr. Reynolds on the small chance he had seen anything.
It seemed worthwhile to at least walk past the pub and see if he had gone there. It wasn’t likely if he didn’t have other business in the village, but I was curious to see what the place looked like now that Mrs. Hoyt had gained control, and it wasn’t far. And I could stop by Mr. Burton’s and get something for my own lunch while I was in the village. With that decided, I set out for the high street again.
~ * ~ * ~
As soon as the pub came into view, I could see it seemed far cheerier than it had the day before, in spite of the black wreath on the door. New tables had been set up outside and most were occupied by groups of men having lunch, but unlike the few diners I’d seen before, these were far more interested in their food or their table-mates than in anyone passing by. It seemed Mrs. Hoyt had already made some changes that resulted in a place Mrs. Albright and I would actually consider frequenting. But there was no sign of Mr. Reynolds outside. Mr. Simmons had said Mr. Reynolds was a regular at the pub, and he seemed the sort to know what was going on, but did that mean Mr. Reynolds would go there even if he had no other business in the village? That seemed to be the question.
I could always ask, of course. It wouldn’t seem that odd, or they probably thought we were odd enough as we’d found a body in Mrs. Foster’s cottage, so one more oddity wouldn’t seem to signify. No one outside seemed like the sort of person I wanted to ask, and besides, they weren’t likely to know everyone sitting inside, even if they were curious and watching.
No, someone waiting tables would be a better choice, and would know if he was likely to be around at all.
I was just wondering how long it would be before someone from inside the pub came out to deliver food or collect plates when I spotted Mr. Reynolds himself coming from the direction of the high street. He must have had more business with the shops, or had been trying to get some. I walked briskly in his direction. He didn’t notice me at first, then looked confused as he realized I was indeed coming to speak to him. As I got closer, his face settled into a look of polite blandness. No doubt he didn’t want to offend a customer by admitting he had no idea who they were.
When I was close enough that he couldn’t ignore me anymore, he tipped his hat and said, “Good morning, miss.”
“Hello, Mr. Reynolds. We weren’t formally introduced at Mr. Burton’s. Miss Pengear.”
He relaxed as he placed where he’d seen me before. “That’s right. You were looking for sandwiches. Did you enjoy them?”
“They were very good, yes.”
“Well, you should try them made with Mrs. Quimby’s Quality Tinned Goods.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. I actually did want to speak with you, though. I have something I hope you could help me with.”
“Anything I can do for a new customer.”
I managed to smile at that, even though I had no intention of trying Mrs. Quimby’s Quality anything. “Mr. Simmons said he saw you around the churchyard yesterday. I wanted to ask if you’d seen anything unusual. You see, we’re staying at Oakwood Cottage...”
“Oh. Then you were there when he was found. That was quite a shock, wasn’t it?”
So he knew about the body as well. Not surprising. At this point, I would have been more suspicious of someone who claimed to know nothing at all about it. As he didn’t seem overly upset by the news, I decided could be at least somewhat direct. “Yes it was quite a shock, and I’ve discovered the body was in the churchyard for a time before it ended up in the cottage, so I was just wondering if you...”
He cut me off before I could figure out how to ask the question and surprised me by saying, “You’ve caught me out. I’m afraid I did move him. I knew the ladies would be coming for one of their meetings, and I didn’t want them shocked by finding a body.”
That seemed to suggest he wasn’t the one who left it outside Mulberry Cottage. After all, if one was trying to avoid shocking ladies, leaving outside of a cottage owned by two ladies seemed absurd. “Where did you move it?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Somewhere down the road. I wasn’t so interested in where I left it as where I took it from, if you understand.”
“No, I don’t.”
He seemed surprised by that response but did his best to explain himself. “I wanted to prevent the ladies from having the shocking discovery when they came for their meeting. I believe they meet to determine who will manage the church decorations the first Monday of the month, and as I didn’t want them to stumble over the body...”
“And it didn’t occur to you to tell Sergeant Harris that you’d found a body?”
“No, why would I? There wasn’t anything he could do. You’ve met him; do you really think he could solve a murder?”
“Not if no one tells him one has occurred.” I wondered if it was suspicious that he knew it had been murder, or if he was using the word now that everyone in the village seemed to know it had been.
“I suppose telling him would give him a sporting chance, but really, I think we both know he’s not capable of solving Mrs. Greene’s missing pies, let alone a murder. Where did the body end-up?”
I wasn’t sure if he was that stupid or was trying to get information from me. Either way, the appropriate answer seemed to be, “Don’t you even know where you left it?”
“It’s not exactly the sort of thing I normally do. Let’s see, I took it out the side gate, down towards... Oh dear, did I leave it at Mulberry Cottage? With the two artistic ladies?”
I couldn’t decide if he was really that bad at moving bodies that he didn’t know where he’d left it, particularly as I’d had the impression it had been in their front garden, not on the path outside, or if he’d intended to put it in their front garden for some reason and didn’t want to admit it.
“I can see why you were confused. There I was trying to stop the ladies of the church floral society from being shocked, and I managed to shock the ladies of Mulberry Cottage instead. I hope they were not too disturbed.”
“As disturbed as you would expect, I’m sure.” No point in telling him that they had then proceeded to move Mr. Hoyt themselves, and done a far better job of it than he had.
“And now I suppose you will tell me this could all have been avoided had I simply gone to Sergeant Harris. And you would be right. Should I ever be unfortunate enough to find another body, I shall go directly to the police.”
“It is generally the best course of action.”
“I shall keep that in mind.”
I knew he wanted to end what was turning into a very awkward conversation, but I still hadn’t asked the most important question. “What do you remember about where you found him?”
“What? You mean the churchyard?”
“Yes. Where in the churchyard was he? Do you remember anything about how he was positioned or anything that might have been on the ground nearby?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. I was so concerned...”
“About the ladies, yes.” Although not about Mr. Hoyt, it seemed. “What part of the yard was he in?”
“Near the side gate. That was the trouble, you see. Anyone going in would stumble over him.”
That was where I’d determined Mr. Elliott had left him, so perhaps I had managed a straight line between two points at last. Although it did raise an interesting question. Did Mr. Elliott know that the vicar would be away? I pulled my mind back to the question at hand. “And what did you see? What else was there?”
“Nothing. Nothing I remember at least. He was leaning against the gate, and I had trouble opening it, and I had to shove him aside as I went in.”
“Leaning on his side or upright as if he were sitting?”
“I didn’t notice. I was shocked to see him, you see.”
“And then what did you do?”
“Well, I knew I had to move him before the ladies came, so I took him under the arms and dragged him out onto the road and then just continued.”
“And no one saw you?”
“It’s not a well-traveled bit of road.”
“And when did you determine that he was dead?”
“Well, it was obvious when I saw him...”
And yet Miss Hayworth had felt compelled to check. Although I suppose if he had been alive as he was being dragged down the dirt road he would have said something.
“I got far enough along that I thought he was out of the way and tipped him over the hedge. I didn’t realize it went into the garden at Mulberry Cottage. I should probably go over and apologize.”
“I think that would bother them more.”
“Remembering it and all, yes, yes, I do see.”
I had thought more along the lines of his clumsy attempts at sympathy, but I nodded. Let him think what he wanted.
“Then if you’ll extend my apologies if you see them again. And I really must be going.”
“Just one other thing. Did you get your business finished?”
“My business?”
“At the church. You must have had some business there.”
“Of course. I was going to offer a donation of Mrs. Quimby’s Quality Tinned Goods for the poor baskets, but when I found Mr. Hoyt, well, that went right out of my head.”
“Only natural, I’m sure.” Just to see what his reaction would be, I added, “When I speak to the vicar, I’ll be sure to tell him of your generous offer.”
“Yes, well, certainly! But as I said, I really must go. Going to have a bite to eat and see if I can get Mrs. Hoyt interested in placi
ng an order now that she makes the decisions, then off to Donnington and points north. It was a pleasure to see you again.”
I knew I wouldn’t get anything useful out of him once he’d decided he was done, so I merely said, “And you,” and watched him go on his way. I doubted he’d gone to the church to make any sort of a donation, so what had been his reason? And did it have anything to do with Mr. Hoyt? That might be an area for Mrs. Albright to ask about. And it seemed I finally had a complete timeline of what had become of Mr. Hoyt from the time he was found in Mr. Elliott’s upstairs flat until he ended up in my sitting room. The only problem was, I was no closer to finding out how he had come to be in Mr. Elliott’s rooms to begin with. Still, it was further than I’d been when I woke up, and it meant there were several people who could vouch for the fact that he had been dead long before we encountered him, which meant we could not possibly be suspects and I was well out of the investigation. I decided that, after a successful morning of tracing the movements of a corpse, I deserved some shop-bought cakes for tea.
Chapter 10
I WASN’T SURE WHERE TO GO FOR MY shop-bought cake in Eybry, so I went to the square where Mrs. Albright and I had eaten our sandwiches and watched the people walk past. Most of the ladies seemed to be going into either Mr. Elliott’s shop or Mr. Burton’s. Since I didn’t want to see Mr. Elliott so soon after questioning him about finding a body, and I suspected he would be equally ready to avoid me, I opted for the grocery.
Inside, Mr. Burton was at the same counter he’d been at the day before, making sandwiches for a group that looked to be made up of mostly locals. It seemed the division of customers Mr. Elliott had suggested was accurate: walkers at the cheese shop and locals in the grocery. There were also two clerks collecting and weighing orders behind the counter and a third at the till ringing up customers and taking money. I scanned the shelves behind the counter but didn’t see any cakes, so I ventured further into the shop where the shelves of items customers could collect themselves were located.