One click of the torch switch and white blazed across the area. “You go have a nice wander round, Hugh. I’m going to the bell tower.”
“I’ll join you in a bit.” Hugh ran his eyes over the vaults of the ceiling, and Berdie scurried to her destination.
The tower door was open wide, no lights evident. Inside, she pointed the torch toward the breech, and began a steady downward beam of light to the floor. There was nothing she recognized as significant. She continued her scrutiny of the space, top to bottom, a torchlight beam’s width at a time.
There were few anomalies, but she noted even the smallest change of feature. After at least ten minutes of examination, she thought she could make out something high up on the one wall.
“I do wish I had a ladder,” she said to herself.
“Why?”
Hugh’s question made Berdie start.
“Certainly you don’t think your earring grew wings and took flight.”
“Look at this.” Berdie flashed the torchlight to a horizontal line demarcation that started on one wall, ran all way round on the other three walls, and back to the start. “What do you suppose?”
Hugh squinted. “It seems our bell tower may have had an upper story at one time? That could be where the first floor was anchored.”
“But there are no stairs.”
“There aren’t any that we’re aware of.” Hugh moved his eyes from corner to corner of the area. “They could have been knocked down, or built over. Who’s to say?”
“A former upper floor,” Berdie uttered. Could that have any significance?
“I daresay your earring isn’t up there.”
“Hugh, forget my jewelry for a moment. I noticed something here.” Berdie shone the light on the slightest of protrusion, just visible from the floor due to the angle of the light beam. “You see, it begins close to where the floor may have been, if you’re correct about that.”
“Ah, I can just make it out, yes.”
Berdie drew the light almost halfway up the remaining aged wall. “Up to where the punctured hole lies.” She then traced a demarcation line seven feet or so horizontally across, then downward to the preexisting floor markings. “A rather large rectangle, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps a former window?”
“Ah.” Hugh’s voice sounded as if the attic lightbulb had just switched on. “Now wouldn’t that be something?”
“A window?”
Hugh tipped his head from side to side. “No.”
“What something?” Berdie fired. “What is it?”
“That would be extraordinary.”
Berdie stared at the space just outlined. “Extraordinary? How?”
Hugh followed the outline with his finger in the air.
“What do you see?” Berdie was becoming impatient.
“We were just on a class fieldtrip to St. Anne’s Church, near Berwick-Upon-Tweed.”
“And?” Berdie worked to imagine any kind of connection between that and a nearly invisible rectangle.
“St. Anne’s had a pele tower built on to it.”
Berdie scowled. “What’s that when it’s at home?”
Hugh laughed. “Thick tower walls, typical in this area, kept the invading Scotts at bay. Villagers would flee to the lower story of the tower at the sign of trouble approaching. But, the upper story was where the priest lived. Pele towers were usually separated from the church, but St. Anne’s had one that’s attached, and the upper story was the pastor’s residence. Not the lap of luxury, but it had a fireplace and hearth, simple comforts for the times.”
Berdie swung the torchlight round. “Oh. This upper wall of the bell tower may have been a sort of vicarage?”
“How’d you like to call it home?”
“I’ll stick to our Oak Leaf Cottage, thank you.”
Hugh chuckled.
“But what makes you think that a pele tower is what we could have here?”
Hugh thought for a moment. “It’s just a guess. But there’s more than one pele tower in this county. It wouldn’t be entirely off the mark.” Hugh leaned forward a bit. “Let me see the torch, Berdie.”
The moment she handed it to him he stepped back just a bit and directed the light to the center of the rectangular outline. “See, that section of wall plaster seems to have a slightly smoother texture.”
Berdie could see it clearly now. “And a bit lighter color as well.” She stared. “This must have been another spot where repair work has been done perhaps. Quite inconspicuous really. You’d never notice it apart from intense scrutiny.”
“You’re not supposed to be in here.” Keith’s voice made Berdie spin on her heel, Hugh as well.
Keith stood in the tower entrance. “Didn’t you see the sign on the door?”
“No,” Hugh returned. “The tower door was open. There’s a sign?”
“It’s a wonderful space,” Berdie piped. “Keith, this is my husband, Reverend Hugh Elliott. Hugh, this is St. Baldred’s verger, Keith Wells.”
The two men tipped their heads toward one another.
“I hope we’re not an inconvenience,” Hugh said pleasantly.
Keith offered a weak smile. “I try to make St. Baldred’s available to all and sundry, but the tower’s unsafe. We don’t allow visitors in it. However, it must be aired. Every so often I leave it open.”
“I apologize,” Hugh offered, “but seeing as we’re here, you may know something about this. I was just explaining to my wife about vicars and the p….”
“Yes,” Berdie interrupted, “vicars, and their wives, loose personal items, but we needn’t bother Keith.” She gave a forced chuckle.
Hugh gaped at Berdie.
And Keith looked askance at her.
“I’ve lost an earring you see, this morning when Lillie and I were here, and I think it bounced into the bell tower.”
“Really?” Keith pursed his lips. “No, I knew nothing about it. You should have said, Berdie. I could have searched it out for you.”
“You appeared quite busy. I didn’t want to be a bother.”
“No bother at all. Now, what does it look like?”
“It’s sea green cloisonné. Round.”
Whilst Keith bent down to the floor, Berdie took the torch from a rather speechless Hugh.
“Round you say?” Keith swept fingers over the space.
“Yes.” Berdie swirled the light on the floor.
“Here it is.” Keith picked up the earring from just inside the doorway and stood.
Berdie shone the torch on the object in his hand. “So it is. Clever you. Thank you very much.” Berdie wondered if she sounded a bit too over-pleased.
Keith placed the piece into her outstretched palm.
“Jolly good eyes,” Hugh commented. “Well.” He looked at Berdie.
“Yes, must get on,” Berdie added. “Thanks so much Keith.” She put the earring in her trouser pocket. “I didn’t realize we weren’t supposed to be in this area.”
“No harm done,” he said without expression. “Now you are aware.”
“Lillie looks forward to her next opportunity to draw here.” Berdie’s tone was exuberant.
“St Baldred’s has so many fascinating details.” Keith stepped aside from the doorway and directed his hand toward the exit. “After you.”
“Nice meeting you,” Hugh asserted.
Berdie and Hugh scooted toward the church entrance as Keith watched.
“What was that about?” Hugh said with a rough tone when they stepped outside.
Berdie took Hugh by the coat sleeve, ducked around to the sheltered side of the church building, shielded by the yew cloud hedge. “Keep your voice down, Hugh.”
“You knew exactly where that earring was. And what’s the point of avoiding a simple conversation with the verger? Vicars lose personal items? Were you truly unaware that the tower was off limits? For goodness sakes, Berdie,” he whisper-yelled.
“Honest,
Hugh. That’s the first I heard the tower’s not open to the public. I’ve never seen a sign. But, more to the point, if Keith gets even a whiff of my investigation on Edward’s behalf, it could all go up in smoke. We can’t ask him too many specific questions, especially about the tower.”
“Berdie,” Hugh said in normal volume.
Berdie put her index finger to her pursed lips and scowled.
“Is the church verger, of all people, one of your suspects?” Hugh whispered.
Berdie knew it must sound improbable to Hugh. “Now, you mustn’t jump to any conclusions until you hear everything.”
“Me jump to conclusions?”
In the cascading dark around them, Berdie heard voices. Yes. Male voices. And it certainly wasn’t Hugh.
She ran her hand in a horizontal direction cross her neck in a cut-off gesture and glared at Hugh.
He, despite looking perturbed, went silent.
There were approaching footsteps. She recognized the speech, and very near they were.
“All clear?” It was Gus.
“Just,” Keith responded. “Had a couple here, visitors nosing about a bit too much for my liking. But they’re gone. So, what time?”
Berdie was taken aback. Gus and Keith hadn’t spoken to one another in years according to Aggie. And, “visitors nosing about a bit too much?” What exactly did that mean?
“Meet me thirty minutes past closing time, when the Watergate’s empty.” Gus’ voice was restrained. “Although, I’m not sure Pip’s coming after all.”
Pip? Berdie wondered if the two brothers could hear her jaw drop.
“How aware is he?” Keith asked.
Gus gave a quick chortle. “Just. You know Pip.”
“Good.” Keith had relief in his voice. “That’s good. We need to rethink all this, Gus.”
“And we will. Don’t get your knickers in a twist.” Gus sounded irritated. “We’ll discuss it all properly after we speak to Pip.”
“Yes.” Keith sounded edgy. “All of it.”
“Half hour after closing,” Gus repeated.
With that, the sounds of Gus scuttling in the direction from which he came, the pub presumably, met with Keith’s taking noisy, rapid, steps back inside the church.
Hugh stared at Berdie. “What’s the big surprise? Your face says something is.”
“The conversation that just took place, that’s the surprise. For two people who don’t speak to one another, and haven’t for years, they seem on very good terms. Why so clandestine, and what does ‘we need to rethink this’ mean?”
Berdie took Hugh by the arm again, gave him the quiet sign, and led him back to the street.
They made rapid steps down the road toward the Bell Tower Inn.
“Something’s afoot, Hugh.” Berdie still whispered.
“We don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“I suppose if I asked you to give up nosing about at this point, you’d carry on regardless.”
“Hugh, Edward has asked me to do this. I believe he has good reason to be suspicious. I can present my case to you, but not here in the street. When we get back to the inn. What we were just privy to only spurs me to, yes, carry on.”
Hugh sighed. “I must admit, if the Pip we know is the Pip they’re planning to meet this evening, it does seem a bit off color.”
“A bit?” Berdie gave voice to her speculation. “A publican, a verger, and an indolent family heir? Mark my words, they’re up to something and it’s not polishing pews.” Berdie was determined down to her toes. “It’s my business to get to the bottom of all this and sort whatever is going on here. I can’t help but wonder what could be under the next upturned stone.”
8
“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” Berdie inhaled the Northumbrian night air that flowed into the bedroom through the slightly opened window where she looked down into the close.
After their pointed conversation about Berdie’s findings; her conversations with Kit, Wilhelmina, Meg, and Keith, plus secretive meetings, multiple sets of church keys, and tales concerning Brother Trustyn, Hugh agreed that she keep on in her investigation. It was more for the sake of declaring St. Baldred’s a holy space than anything else. Whether he believed that the two tragedies that happened there were more than simple accidents, he wasn’t convinced. But he believed it only right to rid the church’s reputation, once and for all, of the ghoulish profile that had become attached to it. In fact, he insisted that Berdie should carry on in setting things right on that account. Of course for her, it was full speed ahead in all venues including murder.
The sound of the shower Hugh was enjoying washed away any remaining anxiety she felt about his lack of support. In fact, his observations in the bell tower were quite helpful.
Berdie’s eye caught the movement of two figures coming up the close, just etched against the shining street lamp. She smiled. It was Lillie and Loren who had gone to the pub for an evening snack after Lillie’s insistence that she couldn’t take the four walls of her room another moment. It seemed a full afternoon of rest revived her sagging strength. Berdie could just make out their conversation as they neared the inn.
“Come along, slow coach,” Loren teased Lillie.
Lillie labored up the middle of the road, Loren just a step ahead.
“Shall we get you a pair of sticks as well?” she countered. “Then we’d see which one of us was slow coach. I’d be first at the door in a heartbeat.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“If you like.”
Loren looked up, down, all round. “No, no crutches about. Looks like the competition’s off.”
Lillie started to laugh and began to wobble. Loren rocked backward and caught her just in time to prevent her from tumbling.
“You see,” he teased, “that’s what comes of boasting whilst you’re injured and on sticks.”
Lillie laughed. “Well, help me then.”
“All right. I’ll help, and we’ll both win, no crutches allowed.” He steadied Lillie by the waist, grabbed one of her crutches, and tossed it to the ground.
“What are you doing?” Lillie protested. “I said help me.”
“I am.” Loren wrapped his arm around her body. “Put your arms around my neck.”
“Loren.”
“Around my neck.”
Berdie thought she knew where this was going, these two mature adults acting like youthful sweethearts, and she was rooting for the muscular Loren.
“Don’t be silly.” Lillie’s protests sounded more like an invitation. “What are you doing?” She sent the other crutch tumbling and placed her arms round Loren’s neck. And true to her carefree way, she giggled.
In one fell swoop, Loren power lifted Lillie from her feet: one arm beneath her, the other around her back, her body filling his capable arms.
Lillie cooed and laid her head against his shoulder. But when Loren took two very deep breaths, Lillie erupted into laughter.
Her reaction became infectious and Loren started to chuckle which made him stagger.
Berdie leaned forward and squinted. Was that crazy woman tickling Loren?
“Stop,” he said. “I’m going to drop you if you keep that up, and then you’ll be sorry.”
As the handsome man moved forward, holding the woman he loved in his arms, Berdie suddenly felt that she should pull the curtain between her and them to let them enjoy their moment. But she didn’t. After all, it was a public place.
“This is good practice,” Loren breathed. He began the ascent up the inn’s path.
“Practice?”
“Over the threshold and all that,” he said.
Berdie could hear the tongue in cheek tone of Loren’s voice.
“I bet you do this for all the damsels in distress.”
Lillie didn’t take the bait! How disappointing for Loren that he dropped such a huge hint at Lillie’s feet without any real response.
Berdie could hear clattering and muffled la
ughter, but Loren and Lillie were now at the inn’s threshold. No more taking in the goings on. “Oh Lord,” she breathed, “how can two people so much in love still be faffing about. When will they seriously discuss marriage? I pray it’s any day now.”
Berdie’s mobile played out her ring tone, Glorious Saints of God. She wondered who on earth it could be.
“Good evening,” she answered.
“Berdie, that’s you?”
“Yes. Edward?”
“Listen, I’ll be brief. I’ll be in Bridgeford tomorrow morning. It’s not far from Criswell. Could you meet me at the Four Ducks Inn, around nine?”
Berdie hesitated. Of course she wanted to fill Edward in, but she had no prints on the proverbial glass yet. Hugh and Loren could give her and Lillie a lift to Bridgeford, on their way to their conference. But, she and Lillie would have to take the bus back to Criswell, a real time burner.
“I have business further north, but I was hoping to stop for breakfast and your report,” Edward continued. “The Four Ducks is close to the helicopter pad in Bridgeford. The owner, a good friend, is quite discreet.”
“I see. Helicopter.” She could hardly say no after all that. “Of course.” Berdie shifted the mobile to her other ear. “Lillie as well.”
“Fine,” he clipped. “Sorry, Criswell is a no-go zone at the moment, and I’m rushed. I appreciate this, Berdie. Must go. I’ll see you there, then. Tomorrow morning, Four Ducks Inn.”
“Yes, Edward, until then.”
That, it seemed, was the end of the conversation. Berdie put the mobile back in her bag.
“A report,” she mumbled. “It feels like old times back at the newspaper.”
****
“I don’t mean to be rude, ladies. Please excuse me. We do need to make this quick, and my friend has already brought my breakfast.”
“Sorry we’re somewhat behind time. Please continue eating.” Berdie knew Edward was in a time crunch. “Loren had a bit of a go finding this place. His navigator sent us in circles.”
She glanced at Lillie who simply looked the other direction, which is exactly what she did whilst piloting Loren.
All Hallows Dead (Berdie Elliott Mysteries) Page 11