Divine Death: A Rev Jessamy Ward Mystery (Isle Of Wesberrey Book 4)

by Penelope Cress

  The rest of the group followed in due course, with Cheadle leading from the front. “After lunch, Sebastian, we will settle on a date, but I suspect those objects predate the Christian site by several millennia. That bronze form you found this morning though doesn’t tie in with the rest. I suppose it could be a later interpretation of the goddess. The markings appear Celtic, but the metal used refers to a much earlier period. I believe I have seen something similar before. When do you say they built the convent?”

  Sebastian pulled the clipboard out and flipped back a few papers. “670 A.D.”

  “Yes, typical time period for the establishment of Anglo-Saxon churches in the county...” His voice trailed off. Sandwiches sounded good. My stomach was rumbling. But first I wanted to get a quick peek at the latest finds.

  There were now ten boxes, all with similar rounded figures, some clay, some wax, but one was clearly different. It was the same basic shape as the others, but more ornate with swirls carved into its metallic brown body. I wanted to inspect it, but after what happened last time, I decided it would be better to wait until there was someone with me.

  My stomach grumbled its agreement with me. Food first. Figurines later. I wondered if Barbara had also made some cake.

  Dinner for two

  Late in the afternoon, I had one final check-in with Barbara before I could get myself ready for my business meeting with Lawrence. I had heard so much about the cuisine at the Old School House, but their prices were well beyond that of a parish priest, and I would have thought that of a headmaster as well. The only other option, until Rosie opened Dungeons and Vegans, was the Cat and Fiddle. And the very real issue of having our conversation interrupted by the landlord, Phil (my verger) or his fiancée, Barbara (my secretary) or any number of other locals (most of them my parishioners and/or the parents of Lawrence’s pupils). Though it was a simple business meeting, two attractive, single pillars of the community such as us, dining alone together, would set tongues wagging.

  And he was attractive and single and a pillar of the community. Jess, stop yourself! It’s business, just business. And yesterday you didn’t even consider him as date material. You didn’t even consider him at all! But what to wear?

  Trust Barbara to have some views on the subject. “I hear Pixley has finally summoned up the courage to ask you out.” I knew there was no point in asking how she knew. I imagined that the whole island knew by now, and there was I naively worrying about the gossip mill after the dinner! Barbara sighed, “He’s just like my Phil that way. Very shy. Only took him fifteen years to pop the question.”

  “It’s not a date, we are meeting to discuss the new academy.”

  “Of course, of course. You could do a lot worse than Lawrence Pixley, you know. I think green. Red is too obvious. Blue will wash out your complexion, you need warmer tones. Shame you don’t have time to get your roots fixed at ‘Scissor Sisters’, that bob they gave you last time was the bomb!”

  “The bomb? Barbara, have you been at the communion wine?” I laughed. “I will find something suitable, I promise. But first tomorrow’s parade. I spoke to Mrs Jenkins and sorted out her concern about the colour theme, so that’s all good to go.”

  “And my Phil has repainted the maypole. It’s looking splendid. He is so talented.”

  It was so endearing to hear Barbara talk about her Phil. After all those years too afraid to admit their feelings for each other, things had moved on a pace since their engagement at Easter. They had set a wedding date for June, and it promised to be the highlight of the year.

  “Now, I know that the Queen of the May crown is highly prized and usually a competitive process, but erm, in the event of a tie who gets to make the casting vote?”

  “Why, you, of course, Vicar.” Barbara was busy stacking flower garlands and plumping out the paper petals. “I think we’ve been using these same headdresses since I was a girl.”

  “They’re very sweet. And who handles the count?”

  “Well, over the past few years we have left that responsibility to Ernest. Everyone else is too busy setting up the pole in the square and putting the finishing touches to the float. Except back in 2006, when the horses pulling the float bolted. All hands to the chase on that one. The poor queen and her attendants were almost at the far side of the island before one of the fairies, or whatever they were, straddled the lead horse and brought it to a halt!”

  “That sounds terrifying! And the vote, I guess that’s open to all?”

  “Of course. We used the tombola. Everyone puts their vote in the hatch. Then during the dance, Ernest counts the results. Why, Reverend Ward, you look concerned. It’s not Miss World, just a bit of harmless fun!”

  “Yes, yes, of course. It’s Tizzy, remember her? Well, she is entering and asked me to help her win. Well, she didn’t actually ask me, but she wants to win so badly.”

  “Oh, I know who you mean. I’ve seen her downtown with young Luke. She’s a beautiful girl. I daresay she will win in her own right.”

  “I agree, Barbara. I daresay she will.”

  *****

  Nothing is worse than waiting for your business partner to join you at a meeting. He was only ten minutes late, and I was early. I wasn’t sure how to act. Do I order a drink whilst I’m waiting? A glass of water is acceptable, right? I wish I had brought a book. I could get out my phone, but that might look like I’m bored, or impatient, or even rude? What did I ever do on previous dates?

  It’s not a date!

  We said at seven o’clock, right?

  Fifteen minutes. I'm not counting. Very probably held up by an anxious parent. He lives with his mother, maybe she’s sick. He would call and let me know if he wasn’t coming.

  Jess get a grip!

  The Old School House interior was not as I expected. I assumed the decor would match the French cuisine, flamboyant but classy. Instead, they used the old school furniture that was left behind when the new Cliffview Primary opened. They had uncreatively draped old mismatched wooden tables in crisp white linen. There was a nod to romance in the candlelit balloon vases that acted as centrepieces, and the off-white bare plaster walls gave it a slightly rustic feel, but the overall effect was underwhelming. The wooden chairs were uncomfortable, my rear was already going numb, and it had only been… I pulled up my sleeve to reveal my watch, twenty minutes.

  Ten tedious minutes later, Lawrence appeared at the door, his head bowing slightly to clear the frame. All thoughts of discomfort ebbed away. He had a certain boyish charm. I had never dated a blond man before. Jess, this is a business meeting, remember?

  After a few minutes of earnest apologies about being late, Lawrence relaxed and asked for the wine list. And as business meetings go, there was nothing of any note to report. Just a schoolteacher and a vicar sharing some Moules Marinière and a bottle of Chenin Blanc over an impassioned conversation about the local school’s future. Absolutely nothing newsworthy in the mirrored body language, how we raised our glasses at the same time, or both went for the last breadstick together. The shared gasps of pleasure as we tasted the tender meat of the spring lamb special offered no greater insights than that the vegan menu would fully satisfy neither one of us at my sister’s cafe when it opened. But the acid test of our potential business partnership was still to come. The dessert trolley. Would he pick wisely?

  “I think I will go for the Tarte Tatin, with cream. Jess, what would you like?”

  Bingo!

  “That sounds perfect! I’ll have the same.”

  ✽✽✽

  Lawrence insisted on walking me home. I hadn’t plucked up the courage to ask him about his glasses all evening, so embolden by the Irish coffee we had had at the end of the meal, I stopped dead in my tracks and popped the question.

  “Lawrence, I have been meaning to ask, and apologies if this seems presumptuous, but are you wearing contact lenses?”

  “Ah, not quite, I had Lasik surgery a week ago. So that’s why you were gazing into my eyes all ev
ening. And there I was, hoping you fancied me!”

  Jess, don’t blow it!

  I shivered.

  “Here, you’re cold. Take my jacket.” Lawrence took off his blazer and wrapped it around my shoulders.

  “But I do fancy you,” I mumbled as I turned to face him. This was a risk, but it was Beltane after all. The Green Man is stoking the fire, all I have to do is light the match. At that moment, the moon slid out from behind the clouds and bathed us in silver.

  “Jess, may I?”

  I nodded. He leaned down. I may need to wear heels again. His lips brushed mine, gently at first. Soft, hesitant, then more confident. Oh my!

  “Do you end all your business meetings this way?” I joked “I’m not sure Audrey would approve.”

  “Well, my meetings with Audrey don’t end like this, that’s for sure!”

  “I’m relieved to hear that.”

  We linked arms and strolled down the final hundred yards to the vicarage. My sisters would have plenty to say about this recent development, and as for Sam, she had always ribbed me for my taste in pretty boys with cow eyes. Lawrence was not my usual type, but perhaps that was a good thing. He was younger than me, but what does that matter in this modern world? He must know I am too old for children. No need to have that difficult conversation, surely? Jess stop that right now! It was one kiss!

  I was happy though. Like songbirds had nested in my heart.

  We stopped outside the vicarage, both of us suddenly more bashful than we had been only a few minutes earlier. Oh no! He is having second thoughts! Told you not to get carried away…

  Lawrence bent down and planted another tender but deliberate kiss on my lips.

  “Guess I will see you at the May Day Parade tomorrow then, Reverend Ward.”

  “I guess so, Mr Pixley. Thank you for your coat.” I reluctantly removed his jacket and handed it back, not wanting this moment to end.

  Lawrence’s eyes held mine as he backed away the first few steps back before turning to go. There was a smile. I was sure there was a smile. Look back. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder.

  He looked back!

  I fumbled for my keys in my bag. My heart pounding so loud in my chest, I thought it would raise the house. I shouldn’t have worried; Mum was still up. She opened the door just as I reached for the lock.

  “Jess, come inside, dear. Dave’s on his way.”

  Dave? I was confused. Why would the unsociably late arrival of my sister’s boyfriend concern me?

  “Oh, I had a great evening, by the way. If you’re interested, he kissed me. And, it was lovely. No tickly moustache, either. I may just be a little bit drunk. If you don’t mind Mummy dearest, I will retire before our honoured guests arrive.”

  “You haven’t heard?”

  “Heard what?” I stumbled over the threshold into the hall.

  “It’s Norman Cheadle. Jess, he’s dead. Luke found his body in the church!”

  Blood, blood and more blood

  There is nothing like the news of a sudden death to sober you up. Whatever was waiting for me at the church, it was time to throw on the clerical collar and don the blackest of outfits. My sister Rosie had already gone to wait with Luke. He had called the vicarage, then Mum had notified the police. The local representative of which, PC Taylor, was taking down Luke’s statement when I arrived.

  “So, can you explain to me again what you were doing in the church, after dark?”

  “I told you already! Wait, do you think I did it?” Luke had obviously been crying. “I saw the light was on and I heard a noise. Mum, I wasn’t… I didn’t, I mean…” Rosie put her right arm around her son and used her free left hand to put a cautionary finger on his lips.

  “He will not say another word until he has a lawyer.”

  PC Taylor rolled his eyes, tutted, and made a display of flipping his notebook shut and slipping it back into his breast pocket. “So be it. I suggest you return to the vicarage then. I am sure Inspector Lovington will have more questions for you. Ah, Reverend Ward. I was wondering how long it would take you to appear. I hear the lamb special is delicious!”

  Everyone knows!

  “I came as soon as I heard. This is my church, Constable. Have you examined the body? Are you sure he’s… dead? Luke can have quite the imagination.”

  PC Taylor stepped aside to show me where Norman Cheadle lay. There was so much blood. I felt faint.

  “Oh, he’s dead as a doornail, Reverend. As to the cause of his untimely demise, I should say the heavily blood-stained candlestick is a likely murder weapon, wouldn’t you?”

  I could barely bring myself to look. I had never seen such a horrific sight. Whoever had taken Norman Cheadle’s life today wanted to make doubly sure he wasn’t coming back.

  “Have you called Dr Hawthorne? You will need an official pronouncement of death.”

  “The county coroner is on their way. And, before you ask, Reverend Ward, I have already called Bob McGuire, and the ferry is heading to the mainland to collect the Inspector as we speak.” I detected a hint of passive-aggressiveness in PC Taylor’s voice.

  “I’m sorry, I know you have everything under control.”

  “I have. I am a trained police officer, and this is not my first murder investigation. Until he arrives, Inspector Lovington has put me in charge. It is my responsibility to secure the crime scene. So, if Master Luke has nothing more to say.” He coughed. “I want you all to go back to the vicarage and wait. And no one is allowed to leave the island.”

  Rosie helped her son to his feet. He was visibly shaken by the evening’s events. I had plenty of questions for Luke, but as we headed home, he had one for us.

  “Did that copper just make a Star Wars reference?”

  Yes, Master Luke, I believe he did.

  ✽✽✽

  Knowing that nothing hits the spot like freshly baked food and a warm cuppa after a shock, Mum had thrown together a simple spread. A delicious Victoria sponge, some sandwiches and a fresh pot of tea stewing under the cosy sat on the kitchen table. Luke was ravenous and dived straight in. Rosie, understandably, was feeling a little queasy. She was, though, the first to talk.

  "Mummy, it was horrible, horrible. My poor baby, stumbling upon that horrid scene! Luke? What were you thinking of going into the church? What if they had killed you too? Did you see them? Oh my God, did they see you? Will they come and hunt you down whilst you’re asleep in your bed? Will they kill us all?"

  “Sis, please calm down. I think whoever killed Norman acted in the spur of the moment. They took whatever was handy. It was a murder of opportunity. I doubt they will want to add to their crime. Wherever they are, they are probably very frightened, right now.”

  "Of course, I forgot, you are an expert in murderer's motivations, silly me thinking you did a degree in theology, not criminal psychology!"

  "Rosie, dear, Jessamy is only trying to help."

  It was never a good sign when Mum used my full name.

  "And I am sure that she too will keep away from getting any of us anymore involved in this affair than we already are."

  "But, Mum, PC Taylor thinks Luke’s involved somehow. I can't let my nephew -" Mum cut me short.

  “And neither will Dave. What is the point in having one of you sleeping with a police inspector if we can't use that to divert attention away from our family?”

  “Grandma!” Luke kicked back his chair. “You think I had something to do with this!” He harrumphed. “I didn't. I found him, that's all.”

  “But it looks bad. You understand you will be a suspect. Look at you, you're covered in blood.”

  “I had to check for a pulse. I tried to do the mirror test with my phone, which was stupid, I know, and then used the torch to look into his eyes.”

  “And all that blood wasn't a big enough clue? Luke, I despair!” Rosie reached out for a sandwich and shoved it into her mouth as if doing so would gag her thoughts.

  She choked. A little. Nothing l
ife-threatening, but Mum showed ninja-like stealth in her response, hitting her firmly between her shoulder blades several times before the rest of us had even processed the situation.

  Luke’s blue eyes were widening in frustration.

  “Mum, I did the right thing. He was dead, and I called you straight away.”

  Rosie took a beat to force down the remains of the sandwich. "Yes, and they are going to twist that. Why didn't you call the police straight away, eh? Did you think we could come and clear up the crime scene?"

  Luke glared back at his mother. His manic black curls shook around his head in defiance. "I didn't do it!"

  “Of course, you didn't.” I looked to Rosie; her son needed her unquestioning support.

  "Man! This family! Aunt Jess, you believe me?"

  I nodded, but I agreed with my sister. This didn’t look good. Inspector Dave Lovington, aka the Baron, was an excellent investigator, I tried to assure everyone that he would work it out.

  "Jess, dear, your blackout. You saw blood, right? Did you see who killed him? You must’ve seen it."

  “Mum! How? Oh, Cindy, of course. I didn't really see anything, just blood.”

  Rosie wailed. "There was so much blood! How can one man have so much blood in him?"

  She was getting more hysterical with every passing moment. It scared her, naturally. She was normally so calm, so collected. She was the one we all relied upon in a crisis. But since her separation, she was different. More fragile. Luke was her world after Teddy did the dirty and she lost the business along with the life she had worked so hard to build. Mother and son had bonded over the new cafe, forging a different life together, and now this! I worried that this would be the proverbial final straw.