‘That’s exactly what I thought. He murdered Glen in a spectacle of revenge to put the fear of God into Linda. And us all. But why Stephen?’
My nose and ears were numb with cold. I found it hard to speak, my lips were so frozen. ‘Glen told me Stephen was here a week before to set up the castle. Under Reverend James’ instructions. But maybe Stephen didn’t realise he was setting up a murder. The Reverend kills Glen, then Stephen suddenly discovers that Reverend James is a killer, but is bumped off before he can squeal.’
She tightened her grip around my waist. ‘Or Mike has some vendetta against everyone… frames the Reverend. Stephen finds out. Cops it before he can tell you.’
‘Whoever it was, he must have been planning this for years. It must have burned in him all this time. So he plans this little get-together to exact revenge on us all.’ I was leading her around the side of the castle. ‘Let’s walk around the tower. I want to try to reach Glen’s body.’
She stopped. ‘Very romantic. You invite me for a walk in the snow to retrieve a dead body. Great.’
I looked up at the tower. I could spot the gap where the balcony had fallen, but the precipice below was steep. The body was twenty metres away beyond a large void of snow. I uncoiled the rope, tied one end to the nearby fence post and the other end around my waist. Tested it for strength.
‘You stay here,’ I said. ‘I’m going to climb down. Just make sure the rope holds, and let me know if it doesn’t.’
‘You’re crazy.’
I reached over and grabbed a craggy rock to steady myself, but my foot plunged into a snowdrift immediately and I fell a few metres into the whiteness. I hit my shin on something hard underneath. She strained at the rope, holding me steady. But I could see this was not going to work. I could not gain purchase. I stretched my legs but could not find solid ground. I tried a little further along, hoisting myself over the edge. This time my foot found a rock jutting out, but as soon as I put my weight on it, it broke away and tumbled down into the snow. Emily held the rope tight and I hoisted myself back up onto level ground.
‘Are you hurt?’
I shook my head. Just a bruised shin. It would be treacherous to attempt any climb down there now. I needed proper rock-climbing equipment. I untied the rope and coiled it on the ground.
Emily dusted the snow off my jacket. ‘Let’s go back.’
‘Before we do,’ I said, holding her by the shoulders, ‘can you tell me what you and Glen were on about that night?’
She slumped. ‘Hard to talk about. Let’s walk.’ She pressed into my side and linked her arm through mine as we walked behind the castle, hugging the hedges to shelter ourselves from the cold. The snow had stopped falling, but clouds hung low.
She took a breath. Another. She was shivering, and I held her tight. Finally, she spoke. ‘It was on a camp. Reverend James called me in one night. His wife was away.’
I stopped walking to face her. ‘My God. Are you going to say what I think you’re going to say?’
She buried her face in my shoulder. ‘I’ve never told anyone this. I would have told you back then, but you… deserted me.’
‘I never–’
‘You did. I needed you then, Rafe.’
‘How old were you?’
‘Old enough. It was a few months after you left.’
‘It’s okay, you can tell me,’ I said.
She spoke so quietly that the wind carried away her words and I had to strain to hear her. I was trembling now too, and not just from the cold.
‘I used to go to him for confession. At his house. We’d talk for hours. About you.’
‘About me?’
‘I was trying to get over you.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Come on, you must have known. Everyone knew about my obsessive crush on you.’
I looked into her eyes, but she turned away. ‘I had no idea.’
She shrugged out of my tight grip. ‘Don’t worry. I’m totally over it now. Over it for years.’
‘Wow.’ This was the last thing I expected to hear from Emily. The past rearranged itself ever so slightly. ‘So you told Reverend James about this?’
‘Yes. Unrequited love and all that. And he gave me the “It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all” sort of crap he told everyone.’
‘I had no idea, Emily. Really. You should have told me.’
She shook her head. ‘That would have just made me look like an idiot. I was no match for Suzanne’s blinding light.’
I wanted to hold her tightly again, but she had pulled away and folded her arms.
‘So anyway, when I told Reverend James all this, he– we–’
‘Go on.’
‘This is hard to say, Rafe. We… became close. He found a way to comfort me.’
The wind roared in my ears. My teeth chattered with the cold. But the ice in my heart was much worse. I dreaded what she was going to say next.
‘Rafe, I was broken-hearted. You just left. There was no one to turn to.’ She wiped her eyes. ‘And then one thing led to another. He said I was a very satisfying young woman.’
I did not want to know what she meant.
She began walking again, away from me. I followed, straining to hear her. ‘We met often. But I didn’t care. It was my revenge on you for abandoning me. What was a girl supposed to do?’
‘Emily, that’s terrible. Please let me hold you–’
‘No. It gets worse.’
‘How can anything be worse than… him… he and you…?’
She said the words into the white sky. ‘I fell pregnant.’
‘The bastard.’
She shook her head. ‘It was my fault. I wasn’t using contraception. I hardly knew what contraception was. I thought he had it all under control. I thought, well I didn’t think anything. I was confused. I was on the rebound. I was…’
I caught up with her, pressed her to me in a bear hug. ‘Emily, I’m so sorry.’
‘But he was very decent about it all.’
‘Decent! He was a bastard.’
‘No, I mean he took responsibility for it. He arranged the abortion. Paid for everything. Looked after me.’
We let the silence creep into us. Finally, I said, ‘So that’s your big secret.’
‘And his.’
‘This changes everything. Who else knows?’
‘No one. Certainly not his wife. But I told Glen. And that was a mistake. He was mad. He wanted to expose the Reverend.’
‘Why didn’t he?’
Emily entwined her gloved fingers clumsily around mine. ‘Glen left the Church. He called Reverend James a hypocrite, he wanted nothing to do with The Twelve after that.’
‘But he was having an affair too, with the Reverend’s wife.’
‘I think that was also revenge, but for what I don’t know.’
‘It all makes sense now,’ I said. ‘Well, more sense than it did before. But why then did Glen come back here?’
‘I’m sure Glen wanted to expose him here. He wanted to have it out once and for all. That’s what I was afraid of that night. That it would all come out.’
‘And Reverend James wanted to have it out with him over Linda?’
She nodded. ‘The perfectly entangled love triangle.’
‘Or square,’ I said, counting the people involved. James. Glen. Linda. Emily.
‘Pentagon, if I add you to the mix.’
‘Christ, what a mess.’
‘But as you know, before Glen could do anything, he had an accident. Or someone wanted to silence him.’
‘He was murdered.’
‘And Stephen got wind of it and was bumped off too.’
Suddenly, it felt colder and darker and the wind more biting. We walked back in silence in the eerie stillness, crunching on frozen snow.
Now I was more confused than ever. After first suspecting Reverend James, I’d decided Mike was our man. His actions were the most suspici
ous. The conditions were so treacherous outside, yet he was quite happy to battle the elements to supposedly go and get help. But now Reverend James was back as number one suspect. He had motive here. A double motive – revenge for Linda’s affair and covering up for his transgression with Emily. Means. Motive. Opportunity. All so obvious now.
I turned to Emily. ‘We have to stop him. We have to watch Reverend James like a hawk. Observe… and stay alive.’
Emily clutched on to my arm. ‘Just please don’t let on that you know.’
‘You know me. I will… humour him.’
She hugged me. Then stopped abruptly at the entrance door to the castle. ‘Rafe.’
‘What?’
‘What the hell is that?’
A fluttering note was nailed to the front door. I recognised the same type of card from the dining table. The words: Four calling birds. The picture: four black birds cawing and flying in a circle around a Christ figure in a manger. Each one was labelled in a scrawling handwriting: Matthew, Mark, Luke, John. I pulled it off the door. On the other side was a map, drawn in pen. The castle, a path, the road, and a circle labelled X.
‘This doesn’t look good.’
We found the others huddled in a semicircle by the fire.
Suzanne stood up. ‘We’ve been worried…’
‘Thank God,’ said Reverend James. ‘Don’t ever do that again.’
I pocketed the note. Looked at this man with new eyes. This was the man who had raped Emily – though she wouldn’t call it rape – and had arranged an abortion to keep it quiet.
‘I’ll take your coat,’ said Danny, but I shook my head, stretched my frozen hands towards the fire. Emily too pressed into the warmth, keeping coat, gloves and balaclava on.
Linda poured coffee for us, and I looked at her also with new eyes. She didn’t look as if she knew, but she was an indecipherable mask at the best of times, a thick coat of politeness and false courtesy. She played her role well. But I could guess what was underneath that veneer. Reverend James too played his pious puritan role so well. He stared at me as if he had heard everything Emily and I had said about him. But there was a more pressing matter to sort out.
‘The four calling birds,’ I said to him. ‘In the carol. What do they mean?’
He saw my wild eyes. ‘Sit, sit.’ Reverend James made space for us between Suzanne and himself. ‘Well, actually, calling birds may be a mistranslation. Originally it was four colley birds. Black birds.’
Emily and I exchanged glances.
‘Colley means black. Blackbirds could sing and would make good presents.’
Everyone was listening now.
Reverend James sighed. ‘I was hoping to make this a lesson every day. But the… mishaps have put paid to that.’
‘No, Reverend,’ said Danny. ‘You said that n-nothing would stand in the way of God’s message to us this week. We–’
I interrupted. ‘No more moralising sermons, Reverend James. Just tell us the meaning of the four calling birds. Quickly. We need to know urgently.’
‘My idea was that whoever has the four calling birds card must work it out for himself.’ He looked around and drew blank stares from everyone.
‘The four Gospels,’ said Danny. ‘Is that the meaning? Matthew, Mark, Luke, John.’
I nodded my head. ‘I thought so.’
‘What?’ said Suzanne. ‘What!’
‘I think you’d all better see this.’ I spread the note out on the table and they crowded around. I looked carefully at Reverend James’ eyes. I saw fear. Did I see guilt?
‘The four colley birds,’ said Danny.
I turned over the card. ‘And a map of sorts.’
I led the way, following the dotted line we were meant to take, out of the castle, down the road, between the tower and the barn, and veering to the right to the circle. The snowdrifts were deep in some parts and I had to skirt around them, keeping my bearing. ‘Stop!’
I stood at the edge of a smoother patch of snow, which I now saw was a frozen body of water.
‘The X is a small pond, a circular pond.’ Emily pointed to a dark patch of ice, newly broken in the middle.
Everyone could see the dark shadow under the newly frozen veneer of ice, arms and legs spread out wide.
No way, I thought.
I ventured a foot forward on the lake surface, but my boot crunched through the ice into the freezing water.
‘Stand back,’ I said. ‘It’s thin ice.’
‘He got this far and then… fell in the lake. Drowned. Froze to death.’ Reverend James’ explanation was more of a plea, his gesture of faith being the belief in things not seen.
To the senses, however, even in this dim light, the blue tinge of the ice was evidence of murder.
Danny crouched by the frozen lake, leaning forwards. ‘Shall we tr-try to get him out?’
‘How did he get under the ice?’ said Alison.
Emily pointed to scars and lines on the ice. ‘The ice froze on top of him. It was broken here. And refroze.’
Linda shuddered and hugged herself. ‘How long do you think he’s been here?’
I kicked at the ice with my boot. ‘Overnight. Probably soon after he set out.’
‘Are we sure it’s Mike?’ said Suzanne, leaning over the edge. ‘We have to get him out of there.’
I shook my head. ‘We need to get out of here, or we’ll all freeze.’
‘And be careful not to slip,’ said Reverend James. ‘That’s what happened. He slipped and fell and couldn’t get out.’
He almost persuaded them – Danny and Alison and Linda, maybe, but not Suzanne or Emily. Suzanne’s teeth were chattering loudly. ‘Let’s go back to the castle.’
‘We can’t just l-leave him here,’ said Danny.
But it was below freezing, my lips and fingertips were numb, and my sinuses were pulsing with pain. No one else needed convincing. They followed me back to the castle, skirting the lake. Reverend James yelled: ‘Stay together!’
Mike was a strong man, I thought. Fit, athletic, and experienced at extreme outdoor conditions. He couldn’t have been stupid here. He would have avoided the frozen lake. And if anyone had attacked him, he would have fought back.
But now I could strike Mike off the suspect list. That only left my number one suspect. But how had Reverend James engineered this death? I had been watching him the whole time. No one had been out of sight long enough to do this. My suspicions began to focus on others now – the concierge, the owner of the castle. Perhaps as accomplices to do the Reverend’s dirty work.
We thawed out by the fire, watched the sparks shooting out onto the hearth. There was nothing to say.
‘It doesn’t make sense,’ Reverend James said at last. ‘None of it.’
I shook my head. ‘And the card on the door, the map, what was that? A suicide note?’
Alison spoke in a very quiet voice. ‘Funny, Rafe and Emily went outside alone earlier. They went for a walk.’
Emily gave her a scornful look. ‘The lake was frozen over long before we went for a walk.’
‘People, people.’ Reverend James clapped his hands. ‘No divisions. That’s what he wants.’
‘Who?’ said Linda, wide-eyed.
‘Satan.’
Emily swore under her breath. ‘The murderer, you mean. Let’s say it. Own it. Admit it. The Murderer. Capital M.’
Reverend James glared. ‘This is Satan’s diabolical work. Whenever someone goes off on his own, he… disappears; he dies in a horrific way. We need to put on the full armour of God to protect us.’
‘Reverend J-James is right,’ said Danny, huddling by the fire. ‘We should never have let Mike go alone.’
‘He was going to get help,’ said Linda. ‘He…’
Reverend James nodded. ‘Don’t ever be alone. If you have to go to the bathroom, take a friend with you. Check out any hiding places before you enter a room.’
‘We’ll all help in the kitchen,’ added Danny, ‘so the g
irls are okay.’
Reverend James nodded. ‘The men must sleep in one room from now on, and the women in another.’
‘Surely someone will find us,’ said Danny. ‘At the village, they must know we’re st-stranded here?’
‘They won’t know until the twelfth day,’ I said. ‘Unless the Reverend here sent some angels to tell them.’
Emily nudged me. ‘Rafe.’
The Reverend’s look was withering. ‘Help will come.’
Alison’s eyes darted to each person in the room. ‘We should all be armed,’ she said, her voice trembling.
Reverend James raised his Bible. ‘This is the greatest weapon here. And I don’t see why I shouldn’t deliver the sermon I had prepared for today. It seems even more relevant.’
Much to my disbelief, the group settled around the fire ready to listen.
‘I’ve already told you that the song, “The Twelve Days of Christmas” was sung by persecuted Christians. Well, it was written in 1780, and each verse is a code. The four colley birds, or calling birds, were a code for the four apostles, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, carrying out “the Great Commission”, spreading the gospel, the good news to the world.’
He peered at each of us in turn as we sat with unease around the fire.
I made an impatient exhale of breath. ‘So what is your point, Reverend James?’
He picked up Foxe’s Book of Martyrs. ‘On the fourth day of Christmas, there was another martyr. In the fifth century, Steven of Constantinople died on this night, 28th December.’
‘H… how did he die?’
‘He was drowned.’
‘Like Mike,’ said Emily quietly.
‘Stop,’ said Suzanne. ‘I don’t want to hear it.’
‘It’s not what happened to Mike,’ whined Alison. ‘It isn’t, it isn’t, it isn’t.’
Linda embraced her.
Reverend James thumped the book on the table. ‘God wants us to hear this. There’s a message in here for us. No point denying it.’
‘The message,’ I said, ‘is that someone is out to kill us all. And very coincidentally is using your sermons, your book of martyrs, as a blueprint for the murders. I want to know why these murders correspond so tightly to your sermons on the Foxe’s Book of Martyrs.’
Twelve Days Page 11