by Sam Short
Barney stepped forward and stared at Rupert Green. “So we know he’s —”
“I haven’t finished!” said Gladys. “I’ll have no more interruptions, thank you very much!” She paced slowly, making her way towards one of the broken chapel windows. “When Lady Green informed us that her son had been a man of God, I immediately recalled him making the sign of the cross when I met him for the second time. Of course, it’s mostly catholics who make that sign, but Rupert’s rise to vicardom was manipulated. He knew no different. He was an ill-trained man of the church.”
Gladys paused, and peered at her audience. “The final piece of the puzzle was the fact I’d seen the butcher hand over a bag of meat scraps to Rupert. A meal fit for a man? Possibly, but unlikely — even for a man down on his luck. When I recalled that Mavis had seen a little white dog on the day of Ethel’s death, I came to my conclusion — the homeless man I’d seen in town was Rupert Green, and he was living in the cave he’d once found drunken solace in. Lady Green tied it all together for me, but the pieces were there in my mind, and I take full credit for solving the murder of Ethel Boyd.”
“But how and why did he kill Ethel?” said Willow. “If he did, of course.”
“Of course he did,” said Gladys. “We’ll ask him why when we wake him up, but as to how he killed her — Barney would you be so kind as to take that filthy bandage off Rupert Green’s hand, please?”
Barney did as Gladys asked. When he’d unravelled the dirty length of fabric and placed it on the pew next to Rupert, Gladys smiled. “Tell us what you see, Barney.”
Barney inspected Rupert’s hand. “A gash,’ he said. “A deep one, on his palm.”
Gladys smiled. She bent over and picked up a sliver of broken glass that had fallen from the smashed window behind her. “Made by stained glass!” she announced, holding the glass aloft. “When the forensics people get here, Barney, you can bet they’ll find glass in Ethel’s wound, and probably in the gash in Rupert’s hand too. The murder weapon was never a knife.”
Willow cleared her throat and smiled. “So it literally was Reverend Green, in the chapel, with —”
“No!” shouted Gladys. She felt her breath leave her in a gasp of frustration. That had been her punchline — the moment she’d been working towards since Lady Green had provided the information Gladys had required to solve the crime.
She steadied herself and took a calming breath. “No! That’s not right, Willow. Not right at all!” she said. “Rupert was a vicar, not a reverend! It doesn’t work, darling. I’m sorry, but if you want to make wisecracks, please make sure they work. Not forgetting of course, that Ethel’s body is still in the room — do you think she wants to hear you making light of her death?”
“No, Granny,” said Willow, twisting her toe into the floor. “I’m sorry.”
“Good. Now let’s not here another word about it,” said Gladys, making her way towards Rupert. “It’s time to wake him up. The sleeping spell I added to the healing spell is weak. It’ll be simple to rouse him.”
“Wake up, Rupert,” said Gladys, splashing some water on the man’s face.
“What the?” moaned Rupert, his eyes adjusting to his surroundings. “How did I get here? The last thing I remember was opening my bottle of vodka.” He struggled against the metal binding his wrists. “Why am I in handcuffs?”
Gladys wasted no time. She pointed at the organ. With the sheet removed, Ethel’s body made a harrowing sight. “Why did you kill her, Rupert?”
Rupert stared at Ethel. “A ghost,” he said. “I killed a ghost. She came here to haunt me — for what I’d done to her all those years ago, but I’ve already been punished. They put me in prison. Why does she still want to torment me? She’s even wearing the same shell-suit she was wearing when I killed her, and she’s brought a ghost organ with her. Why are ghosts so cruel?”
Gladys’s stomach tightened, and despair washed over her. She hadn’t expected Rupert to admit to his crime immediately, but when he had confessed, she’d expected him to have spoken about the killing being his revenge for the time he’d spent in prison. Gladys had assumed that Rupert had found out he’d spent thirty years in prison for a murder he hadn’t committed. The truth was more harrowing.
Gladys looked at Ethel’s body. With her hair dyed, and wearing the same shell-suit she’d worn when Rupert had attacked her thirty years ago, Ethel could have been any age when viewed from behind. Gladys recalled Ethel telling her the shell-suit made her feel safe. It hadn’t worked. She stared at Rupert. “You think she’s a ghost?” said Gladys.
“Of course she is,” said Rupert, straining at the cuffs. “I killed her thirty years ago, and her ghost was waiting for me when I came back. I’d only been back in Wickford for a few days. I came here to find Ethel’s grave. I wanted to say sorry, but I couldn’t find her in any of the cemeteries.
“I didn’t know what to do — I had nowhere to live, and not much money — my parents had told me I was never welcome at home again, so I came straight here, to see if my old chapel was still standing. When I found it was, I moved into the cave. There was a little stray dog living along the canal bank, and when I took her in, I had everything I needed — somewhere to stay dry, and a loyal friend to share my home with.”
“What happened?” said Gladys. “Why did you kill Ethel… Ethel’s ghost?”
Rupert attempted to move his hands. “Why am I in handcuffs? What are you accusing me of? Yes, I take drugs, and yes, I drink too much, but I’m not a criminal. Not anymore. I did my time! I paid my penance!”
“Calm down,” said Barney, asserting his policeman’s authority. “Answer the question, Rupert. “What happened here? What happened with you and the… ghost?”
Rupert licked his lips, his tongue wetting the thick strands of hair which made up his beard. “I was in my cave,” he said. “Drunk and high. Bonnie woke me up, she was barking, I think. I can’t remember. It’s all muddled.”
“Try to remember,” said Gladys. “What happened when you woke up?”
Rupert looked at the ceiling. “I… I heard the music. Yes, that’s right. I heard the organ being played in the chapel, but I knew there was no organ in the chapel — I’d already looked around. I was spooked.”
“So you came up here?” urged Gladys. “To have a look?”
Rupert nodded. “Yes, and then I saw it. At the impossible organ.” Rupert shuddered. “I couldn’t believe my eyes. I’ve always been fascinated with stories about ghosts and vampires, but when I saw one in real life, I was terrified. I shouted, but it didn’t hear me — it was playing the organ too loud. My vision was blurred, you know how it is when you’re high?”
Gladys nodded.
“So I moved closer,” said Rupert, “and I picked up a weapon. A piece of glass. Then I saw it. The beautiful clothing, the same lovely clothing that Ethel had been wearing on the day I committed my wicked crime. It was her! It was her ghost! I didn’t know what to do. I loved Ethel, but it wasn’t Ethel siting at the organ — it was something else, something not of this world, something that had no place in the chapel.
“I wasn’t sure what to do, and then I remembered the stories I’d read — ghosts wander the earth until they can finally pass over. So I stabbed it, in the back of the neck, with the glass. I cut myself too. So deep it didn’t bleed, but I didn’t worry about that. I’d killed the ghost! And I’d set Ethel’s spirit free. Free to move on to the next world!”
Gladys sighed. It was a tragic tale. “What did you do after you’d killed it?”
“It kept playing the organ,” said Rupert. “One continuous note. It was terrifying, so I ran away. Into town. To get more drink and drugs. Bonnie ran in the other direction, as scared by the sound as I was. I waited around for a few hours, and when I tried to get back here, I couldn’t find the chapel. I kept wandering in circles until I ended up back in town.”
The spell to keep people away had worked well, but Gladys had no stomach for congratulating herself o
n her magical prowess. She was embroiled in an ethical dilemma. A dilemma so sad she could have shed a tear. Rupert had spent thirty years in prison for a murder he hadn’t committed. Yes, he’d attacked and severely hurt Ethel, but the time he’d spent in prison because of a cover up was hard for Gladys to consider fair. Rupert had wandered into a chapel where a woman he’d already killed was playing an organ that shouldn’t have been there, and he’d been in the grip of a drugs and alcohol stupor. It had been a tragedy.
“Can you take the handcuffs off, please?’ said Rupert. “I know my rights, and I need a fix. I’ve got cold sweats, and my head hurts!”
Gladys looked at Barney. “Call it in,” she said. “Tell them we came here so Ethel could practice on the organ. We’ll tell them what really did happen — we stepped outside, to see if we could hear the organ from the canal. We heard Ethel playing one terrible note, and when we came back, she was dead. We’ll tell them Bonnie was frantic, and she led us to the cave where we found Rupert. He’ll admit what he did, and all the evidence is here. They’ll have it wrapped up in no time.”
“The wound on his hand is days old, though,” said Willow. “Somebody will notice it wasn’t made today.”
Gladys glanced at Rupert. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she’d add a painkiller to the spell which would freshen up the gash on his hand.
Rupert winced as Gladys took his hand in hers and applied the spell. The edges of the wound softened, and the infection began to heal. She felt less guilt for meddling with his wound —she’d done him a favour, the infection had already begun to spread.
“What did you do?” said Rupert. “How did you do that? Wait! I remember you now! You’re a vampire — you attacked me in my cave! It’s all coming back! This place is infested with the undead! God bless us all!”
“The police will have no problem believing he thinks he killed a ghost,” said Penny. “He sounds crazy.”
“He is, I fear,” said Gladys. “All those years of drink and drugs, and all that time in prison where drugs are as accessible as they are out here has affected his mind.”
Penny looked up. “Granny! What about Mavis? She knew we came here a few days ago, and you told her she was going to play the organ at your wedding — you told her she was better than Ethel. She’ll tell the police when she hears about Ethel’s murder.”
“And I shall tell Mavis and the police that I gave Ethel another chance to prove herself. Mavis knows how fickle I am, she’ll understand,” said Gladys. “Anyway, she’s still got the wedding gig, she’ll be happy enough.”
Barney reached for his radio. “Okay. Is everybody ready? I’m going to call it in. Gladys, take Ethel’s body out of stasis, and everybody try and look at least a little shocked — you just found a woman’s body, remember. I’ll tell them I’m here because I came with you to listen to Ethel play, after all it is a family wedding, and I’m on my break. They’ll understand.”
“Wait,” said Gladys. She put her hand on Barney’s arm. “Before you radio this in, we need to talk. Something feels very unfair about this whole thing — the cover up, and everything that went on thirty years ago. You’re going to need to speak to a few people, Barney, and get a few strings pulled. It’s only right. I’m finding it hard to think about Rupert going to prison for murder again. It wouldn’t be fair. Will you help, Barney?”
Barney took his hand off his radio. “I said I’d help when all this started, Gladys. Tell me what you’ve got in mind, and I’ll see what I can do.”
Chapter Nineteen
Gladys stepped off the Water Witch and smiled at the congregation. She knew she looked good, but the admiring glances she drew bolstered her confidence. Penny had moored the boat in the perfect position, and the beautification spell she had cast over the whole area had ensured the little pier looked as magnificent as the chapel she was about to get married in.
White roses had entwined their stalks around the handrails, and two white doves had heeded her magical call, and positioned themselves — one on each balustrade, their beaks aimed at the blue sky in an ornithological salute.
Gladys took a sniff of the rose tinted air and smiled once more at her admirers. They would lead her along the path to the chapel, where Charleston was patiently awaiting his bride. The sweet notes of organ music echoed through the valley, and Gladys gladly took the arm of her son as he approached her, his purple silk cravat the perfect match for his bright orange crushed velvet suit.
Penny, Willow, and Maggie stepped off the boat behind her, and Gladys gave them each a smile. They looked wonderful in matching dresses, and Gladys was happy she’d allowed Maggie to wear lavender, and not black as she’d planned.
She couldn’t have asked for more beautiful bridesmaids, and she allowed herself a moment of pride for the family she’d produced.
Gladys had chosen her own outfit well, she’d decided, and nobody had mentioned the dramatic overnight weight loss which had allowed her to fit into such a curve hugging white dress. The spell would wear off by the next day, but Gladys didn’t mind. She wasn’t a vain woman, and she liked having a little meat on her derrière — it made sitting down far more comfortable.
Gladys gripped her bouquet tight in both hands. The colourful dried flowers gave her outfit a natural look, and the additional flowers dotted throughout her hair stood out beautifully against her freshly dyed blue perm.
As far as Gladys could tell, everybody who’d received an invitation was present, and she nodded her appreciation as the crowd clapped and cheered her arrival.
The gentle spell she’d imbibed the whole area with would put thoughts of Ethel’s murder out of their minds for the day. When they awoke the next morning, they could begin the gossiping and speculation that always followed any crime in a small town. For today though, Gladys wanted only happy thoughts surrounding her.
“Are you ready, Mother?” said Brian, his arm a solid support in hers.
“I am,” said Gladys. “I’ve never been more ready for anything.”
Brian began walking, and Gladys matched his stride, keeping in step with her son as the rest of the congregation fell in behind them, following the mother and son along the pathway.
Gladys sighed as she rounded the final bend in the path and saw the chapel. She’d known her spell had been good, but the beautification magic had far surpassed her expectations. The white stone walls reminded her of Greek buildings, and the stained glass windows popped with colour, burnished by a golden sun. It was everything Gladys could have asked for, and she wished her mother could have been there to share in her happiness.
As Barney saw them approaching, he came to greet them, his suit fitting perfectly, with not a sliver of sock to be seen between his trouser hems and his shiny shoes. “You look stunning, Gladys,” he said. “Charleston can’t wait to see you.”
“Is he okay?” said Gladys. “His head, I mean. He hasn’t got headaches or anything, has he?”
Barney smiled. “He’s fine. Honestly.”
“You didn’t let him know I told you, did you?” said Gladys.
“Of course not,” said Barney. “Now, just concentrate on continuing to look so beautiful while I get everybody seated.”
“And Inspector Jameson?” said Gladys. “Did you speak with him?”
“Yes, Gladys,” said Barney. “I told you I would. He’s on his way back from Scotland, and he’s going to speak with Lady Green as soon as he gets back. Enough of that. You’re here to get married. Not to worry.”
He lowered his head, and Gladys smiled as he kissed her cheek. He was a fine young man, and she was happy that Penny had found him. “Thank you, Barney,” she said.
Barney began leading the crowd of people into the chapel, and Gladys smiled as the photographer weaved between them, taking random pictures as she’d asked him to. Gladys wasn’t photogenic, she knew that, and she always seemed more natural in photographs she wasn’t aware had been taken. Of course, she’d pose for photographs with Charleston, but she was cer
tain she’d shine brighter in the candid snapshots.
When the congregation had entered the chapel, Gladys looked around at her little posse. Her son, daughter, and grandchildren were her whole life, but she wished that Eva could be there too. They had their disagreements, sure — but there was nothing stronger than the bond between bickering sisters, and Gladys made a silent promise to herself that she’d see Eva more often in the future.
Birds sang as the organ music stopped briefly, and as the next notes burst into life, Brian squeezed Gladys’s arm. “That’s our cue, Mother,” he said.
Mavis played beautifully, and as Here Comes The Bride burst from the open chapel doors, as bright and cheery as the day itself, Gladys allowed herself to be led inside by her first born.
If the beautification spell had done wonders for the outside of the chapel, it had performed miracles for the interior. The white rose theme continued inside, and the air smelt of fragrant petals and polished wood. Gone were the broken pews for the time being, being renewed to their former dark oak glory, dappled in the vibrant light which streamed through the colourful windows.
Gladys paused in the entrance, and Brian stopped alongside her. She closed her eyes and said a silent eulogy for Ethel, hoping the poor woman was at peace, and promising her that had she still been alive, it would have been her sitting at the organ.
When Gladys opened her eyes, she put all thoughts of the dead from her mind and concentrated on the living. Particularly Mavis, who seemed to be over egging her performance, her head bobbing, and her spine twisting as her fingers hammered out the notes. The notes were perfect though, and Gladys didn’t begrudge her the time in the spotlight. She took a deep breath and turned her full attention to the man at the end of the aisle, the man who had agreed to accept her with all her many faults. The man she never thought she’d be fortunate enough to meet.