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

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Divine Death: A Rev Jessamy Ward Mystery (Isle Of Wesberrey Book 4) Page 11

by Penelope Cress


  “Must be hard to lose a mother so young.” I couldn’t imagine losing my mother. A mother has a special place in a child’s development. Even though Dad died when I was thirteen, I doubt the impact was the same. “What did her father do?”

  “What didn’t he do? He was always up to something. You know the type. Member of the Rotary Club, volunteer at the local animal shelter, a fundraiser for the clock tower, town councillor. He was a very active congregant at St Mildred’s. Oh, and of course, founder of the Stourchester Historical and Archaeological Society. Or Group, as it was first envisioned until some wag pointed out the initials spelt S.H.A.G!” Richard chortled into his Darjeeling, prompting Prudence to offer to make a fresh pot.

  “A busy man. And he looked after Isadora as well, all by himself. I imagine they were very close.” Savouries consumed, I eyed up the chocolate eclairs.

  “Like two peas in a pod. Old Bryant doted on his little princess. She was the world to him. He only took a second wife when Isadora went to college.” Taking advantage of the break in his thoughts, Richard stuffed a whole eclair in his mouth. He didn’t even appear to chew! “Shame they never got on. She got married and moved to Wesberrey. Cut them both off. Broke her father’s heart. After he died, God rest his soul, Isadora took over the society, I think it was her way to make amends.”

  “Hmm, I see. And her stepmother, is she still alive?” I wondered.

  “Oh, I imagine so. Moved to Stourchester, remarried, I think. Though I doubt Isadora would have much to do with her.”

  “More tea, Reverend Ward?” Prudence returned with a teapot resplendent in its multicoloured crocheted cosy. “I can make more sandwiches. And I think there’s a box of egg custard tarts in the fridge, if you’d prefer. So lovely to have company.”

  I declined graciously. I needed to leave some space for dinner that evening at Tizzy’s.

  “I’m afraid, there’s not much else I can tell you. When she’s not waving a metal detector over some scrubland or labelling civil war bullets for the local museum, Isadora works behind some anonymous desk at the council. Been there for years. Probably has a grey cubicle of her own by now. Who knows?”

  As I thanked my generous hosts for their hospitality, Richard had one more parting thought to share. “I have known Isadora all her life. If you are looking for murder suspects, I suggest you look elsewhere. My money’s on DeVere. Se-bas-tian De-Vere. Sounds every inch the scoundrel to me. Don’t you think?”

  Young love

  I didn’t know what to think except that I was no closer to knowing who wielded that candlestick than I was the night before. Maybe the answers lay in those files Tizzy made up. Tonight, I had to persuade her to let me look inside.

  When I arrived at the vicarage, Luke was pacing up and down the hallway.

  “Where have you been? Tizzy is pulling out all the stops tonight and we can’t be late!”

  “Hush now, nephew! We have plenty of time. You’re looking rather dapper. Very handsome.” I pinched his alabaster cheek as I passed. “I should take a photo; your mother would love it!”

  “Aunt Jess, don’t you dare!” he said, trying to grab my phone out of my hand. “Can you just get ready? Please!”

  I blew him a kiss from the bottom of the hall stairs. “Don’t worry. I will be back down as soon as possible. Relax!”

  I took a quick shower and then stared for ages at the content of my wardrobe. What to wear? This was obviously a big deal for Luke and Tizzy, but surely her father was not expecting anyone to dress up unless they always dressed for dinner. Given that he lived in one of the new-build houses on a modern family estate behind the graveyard and not Bridewell Manor, the ancient family seat of the sixth Earl of Stourchester up the road, I doubted it would be that formal. Still, I had few options outside of black and grey shirts, some lycra workout clothes and a couple of ‘special’ tops, which I had already worn in the past week. If Lawrence was going to make a habit of taking me to fancy restaurants, I would need to do some shopping.

  I finally settled on a black clerical blouse with three-quarter length lace sleeves. I had bought it under extreme pressure from my older sister to liven up my appearance, and it had languished unloved in the entrance to Narnia for months. Thankfully, it fit. In fact, all those Walkers Workouts had worked out. I could have bought this top at least one size smaller. It wasn’t too dressy; I was still very much a vicar, but it was more feminine than my usual attire.

  As there was the faintest mist in the air and the very strong likelihood of showers later, we took Cilla, though it was little more than a ten-minute walk. Luke sat tight behind me. His nervous heart pounded through my jacket. Bless him.

  Tizzy had pulled out all the stops. The house was spotless. She escorted us into the lounge and offered us some bucks fizz, or rather some sparkling white wine of unknown pedigree with a generous dash of orange juice from a carton. I would like to say this deduction was all down to my refined palette, but I could see the opened bottle and cartons on the side dresser.

  “Dad will be down in a bit. He had a late business call.” Luke ran his free hand through his tousled black locks, his feet dancing nervously on the spot as he waited. Tizzy stretched out her fingertips to brush his jaw. He briefly glanced up at her when they touched before going back to examining the pattern of her carpet. “Don’t worry,” she said. “He doesn’t bite.”

  I was so preoccupied with the prospect of getting another look at Tizzy’s secret files that I hadn’t stopped to appreciate what an honour it was that my nephew had invited me to this important meeting. He didn’t ask his mother; he asked me. I suppose that took the pressure off him a little, though I failed to see why he was so nervous. After all, Tizzy had met the entire family.

  “I’m sure Tizzy’s father is going to love you,” I said.

  “Hmm,” he replied.

  Fortunately, his agony was short-lived. The unmistakable sound of alpha-male descending wooden staircase heralded Tizzy’s father’s entrance.

  “So, this is the young stud who’s been keeping my girl warm and toasty when I was away.” Tizzy’s father rounded on my nephew and playfully punched him in the arm. “Don’t worry, son.” He wrapped his muscular arms around Luke’s thin shoulders, “Only joking with yah,” The beast of a man then turned his attention to me. “Ah, you must be Reverend Jessamy Ward. Tizzy has talked more about you than this fine young man. Something amiss there, don’t you think?” He struck out his hand, “Let me introduce myself, Warren Driver. Most of my friends call me Buck. Pleased to meet yah.”

  I was half afraid that his huge hands would crush my dainty paws, but he had the softest of grips and an electrifying smile. Buck Driver was a man full of confidence and vigour. I could see how, whatever business he was in, he always won the deal. He had swagger.

  “Is that an accent I detect?” Sounds American. “I’m sorry I assumed you’d be English,”

  “Oh, because of Tizzy here. Hasn’t she turned out to be the prettiest thing you ever saw? Don’t blame young Luke here, would be hard for a red-blooded man to resist her charms.” Buck’s hand squeezed Luke’s shoulders tightly as he spoke. Luke winced in pain. “But, yes Ma’am, I hail from Austin, Texas. Been living over here now for nigh on a quarter of a century.”

  “Shall we eat?” Tizzy valiantly scooped her arm through Luke’s, freeing him from her father’s clutches. “I don’t want it to spoil.”

  “Sounds wonderful. Lead the way,” I answered.

  The dining room, like the rest of the ground floor, was like an IKEA showroom. Everything was fresh, functional with soft, clean lines and just enough colour and modern art to make one feel at home. But it didn’t feel ‘lived in.’ In fact, I had the real sense that before Tizzy moved in, Buck was rarely here.

  “You have a lovely house, Buck. How long have you lived here?”

  “Good question, Reverend, I bought the place about two years ago to add to my portfolio. Never really got around to do much with it. Then when Tizzy
here looked me up, and she was living with her Mum in Stourchester, why I knew I had to open this place right up and make this my base.” He beamed as he spoke about his daughter. “Did she tell you, Reverend, that she wants to go to college? Brains and beauty. Just like her Daddy!”

  “Yes, she did. And she wants to become a writer. I think she’ll do well.”

  “Well, she’ll have plenty of material for a crime novel living round here. There seems to be a murder every few weeks. I thought I was in Dallas!” Buck’s laugh was like being in the hold of a spaceship’s tractor beam. Once it trapped you in its field, there was no escape.

  He narrated anecdote after anecdote, and each time the volume dialled up another notch. There was little room for anyone else to speak. His performance was at times overbearing, but always captivating. He used charm as a weapon of defence, disengaging his opponent with compliments and smiles. Tragically though, I suspected he saw everyone as an enemy to win over. Everyone.

  I finally broke through. “Buck, it must have been strange to find Tizzy on your doorstep after all these years?”

  “Yes, ma’am. She could give that Inspector Levington a lesson or two in detectiving.”

  “Lovington.” I tried to correct him, but I don’t think he was listening as he rolled on with his story.

  “She never did tell me how she tracked me down, but I’m sure glad she did. I had no idea that her poor mother had fallen on such hard times. I mean, I’m sure she did the best she could. I’m in no position to cast stones. Soon as I knew what was going on, I scooped her up and placed her in a clinic. It’s a disease like any other, isn’t that right, Reverend, and needs treatment. You don’t expect to get well without professional help for cancer, now do you? Alcoholism is just the same. I have bought her the best help that money can buy. And when she’s out, I will move her in here. Reverend, have you seen the rathole she was living in? And having my daughter there too!”

  “I'm delighted that Tizzy is enjoying getting to know you after all these years. I hope you don’t think me rude, but why did you leave?” It was rude to ask, but the shared sisterhood inside couldn’t sit and listen to another woman being berated for struggling to be a single mother, especially not by the father who had walked away.

  Buck slammed down his hand on the table and then laughed. “Hey, and I was just getting to like you!” I think he was joking. “Let’s just say that Her Majesty wanted me to stay in one of her less refined palaces.”

  The penny dropped. “Oh, you were in prison! What were you charged with?”

  “No flies on you, Reverend? Don’t look so scared, I’m toying with yah. Fraud, though of course, I’m innocent of all charges. I was simply giving the firm’s partner’s money a well-deserved vacation in my bank account. Just to attract a little interest. They got their money back. No harm, no foul.”

  “But there was harm, you missed your daughter growing up,” I countered. Poor Tizzy. I genuinely hoped that this would be the start of a wonderful new life. I thought it was a good time to steer the conversation in a new direction. “Anyway, that’s in the past. No point to looking back, is there? However, talking of crimes and punishment, I was wondering, Tizzy, if the police had spoken to you again at all.”

  Tizzy shot a look at Luke and shook her head. There was still something they weren’t telling me.

  “Luke? Tizzy? Is there something else? You know the police think Ernest Woodward did it. They have a witness who says that they saw him in a fight with Norman outside the church at around nine o’clock.”

  “It wasn’t him,” answered Luke. “Tizzy, we have to tell my aunt what really happened.” Tizzy played with the cold peas left on her plate. “It’s okay. They will understand. Jess is cool.” Luke caught her hand and brought it to rest on the table. With his other hand, he curled a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

  Tizzy sighed. Still fixing her eyes on the plate in front of her, she stuttered, “W-w-we were there. We saw the two old men fight, and we saw Mr Woodward walking away. The professor carried on towards the church.”

  “I don’t understand. Luke? Tizzy? Why couldn’t you tell the police? They have Ernest under virtual house arrest, and you know he didn’t do it, right?”

  “He couldn’t do it. We would have seen him.” A muscle was twitching in Luke’s flushed cheek. It was unusual to see any colour in his complexion.

  Buck’s earlier bravado had softened, he took his daughter’s other hand “So, princess, what were you both up to that you are so scared to tell us?”

  She snatched her hand away. “I’m not your princess, I’m a whore!”

  “Tizzy, don’t!” Luke held her tight. Their embrace muffled whatever they both said next.

  I gestured to Buck to step away and leave them be.

  “We didn’t want to come forward because,” Luke took a fortifying breath, “we were making love on the tombstone.”

  “Oh, is that all!” Buck’s relief cut a slice through the rising tension, “I thought you were going to say you’d off’d the guy!” He refilled everyone’s glasses. “I think we could all do with another drink!”

  “I’m with your father on this, Tizzy. You are young, there’s no shame in what you were doing.” Well, there was, a little but… “That said, I would have preferred that you had waited until you got married. But it’s not a hanging offence!”

  “But we were in a cemetery. Next to a church!” Tizzy reminded us.

  “In public. Like, isn’t it sacrilegious?” Luke asked. “Mum will kill me!”

  “Don’t be silly, Luke.” I smiled, “She will just make you wish you were dead, for a week or two.”

  Buck jumped into the conversation like a grizzly bear into a vat of fresh salmon, “Tizzy, me and your mother used to get up to all sorts when we were your age. Why, there was this one particular carnival ride, hoo-wee, don’t know how I didn’t get hauled off for public indecency!”

  Tizzy giggled. “Well, you looked fully respectable in that picture on the mantelpiece.”

  “I proposed to her on that ride, and that darn fool woman accepted. I’ve brought her nothing but pain and suffering ever since.” The man mountain wiped a tear from his lashes. “But I’ll make it up to you now, girl. I promise.”

  Buck reached over the corner of the table to encase the young couple in his extended arms, his fingers stretching to round Luke’s shoulder.

  I hated to break up this tender moment, but I had questions. Lots of them.

  “Okay, just so I’ve got this straight. You were getting to know each other better when you heard Ernest and Norman arguing in the churchyard. You saw them fight, and you also saw Mr Woodward walk back to his house. Did you see the professor go into the church?”

  “No, er, we weren’t erm quite finished,” Luke answered, understandably bashful in front of Tizzy’s father.

  Tizzy picked up the baton. “Luke wanted to walk me home. We decided it would be quicker to go around the side of the church and that’s when we, well I, noticed that the side door was open. I thought it would be fun to, you know, go inside. Luke wasn’t sure but, well, anyway when we got there the lights were on and I thought Luke would like to see all the Venuses, so we went up to the altar.”

  “Okay, so that’s when you found the body?” I asked.

  Luke looked to his girlfriend for support. “Not exactly. Well, not straight away. But -”

  “I saw him over Luke’s shoulder,” she shivered, “He must’ve been there all the time.”

  “So why didn’t you call the police straight away?” Buck asked, pulling back into his chair with a glass of wine in his hand.

  “I wanted to,” said Luke.

  “But I stopped him. I was frightened. I have a past I’m trying to forget. I didn’t want people to hear that we were, you know. It’s a small place. People talk. It’s not the big city. I want a fresh start. So, I ran home, and Luke waited a few minutes before calling the vicarage.”

  This deception piqued Buck’s curios
ity. “You called for a priest before alerting the authorities?”

  “Aunt Jess, has a, er, gift for routing out murderers. I knew she’d know what to do,” Luke explained.

  “But I was out for dinner.” Don’t think about Lawrence. I felt my breath quicken. Too late! I need to focus. “And you didn’t see anyone else enter or leave the church?”

  “No, we were a little preoccupied.”

  Buck placed his glass in front of him and held the base between his thumb and forefinger. The stem was so fine I imagined he could snap it with one tiny flick. “So how long were you preoccupied? Five minutes, ten?”

  “Maybe more,” Luke’s earlier bashfulness was dissolving into pride at his sexual prowess. “I wasn’t watching the clock.”

  “No, of course not, son. I understand.” Buck was taking these revelations of young lust in his stride. “But whilst you were busy, the murderer had plenty of time to slip away.”

  Tizzy suddenly fired up; her entire body engaged with her response. “I think the professor was meeting with someone,” she said. “He wasn’t in the church on a whim. This someone lay in wait for him. Maybe they exchanged words, or maybe Norman didn’t know what hit him. But the murderer wasn’t hanging around. They probably went out the side door, leaving it ajar. That's how we got in and there was no one else inside.”

  “So,” Buck continued to roll the glass stem between his fingertips, “the murderer knew the victim well enough to lure him into the church, late at night. Probably offering him something he wanted and wham! Blunt object upside the head.”

  “Exactly!” squealed his daughter. “But who? It had to be premeditated. Isn’t that right, Reverend? They must've had a motive.”

  “Tizzy, do you want to help me solve this?” I asked.

  She nodded repeatedly.

  “Whoa, slow down there a moment, Reverend. I hope you’re not leaving me out of this. I get cons, remember. I was one.”

  “Of course, Buck. The more the merrier. Tizzy, I think we need to inspect your secret files.”

 

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