The Marlow Murder Club

by Robert Thorogood

  ‘Nothing of the sort.’

  ‘Very well, then perhaps you can tell me precisely when Mr Dunwoody died?’

  Judith was surprised by the question. How could Elliot talk so easily of times of death like this? But it was all part of his attitude that she couldn’t place.

  ‘About eight last night,’ she said. ‘Maybe ten past eight.’

  ‘Well, wouldn’t you know it, but I’ve an alibi for then.’

  ‘You have?’

  ‘At eight o’clock last night I was at All Saints’ Church. You see, I sing in the church choir. Have done for years. And every Thursday night, between the hours of seven and nine, we have choir practice. So that’s where I was. In front of the vicar, as it happens. Along with the verger, various sidesmen and women of the church. And the Mayor of Marlow.’

  Elliot smiled, and Judith suddenly realised what was unsettling her about him. He seemed to be enjoying the conversation. Like a cat toying with a mouse.

  ‘And don’t worry,’ he continued. ‘I won’t wait for that bill for your dress, we both know you were making that up, don’t we? Now why don’t you piss off before I call the police and have you forcibly removed?’

  Judith didn’t have an answer to that. For the first time in years, she was entirely lost for words.

  Chapter 6

  Judith cycled back into Marlow replaying the conversation with Elliot in her head. What had she been thinking? Despite herself, she couldn’t help but feel a delicious thrill at her audacity. She’d just confronted a man in broad daylight who might have been a killer! And the encounter had gleaned important information, not least the fact that Elliot believed Stefan Dunwoody had been a liar, a cheat, a fraud and a crook. Those were a serious list of crimes, weren’t they? Although, how could her lovely neighbour Stefan, who his assistant Antonia had agreed was a perfect gentleman, be in any way a criminal? It didn’t seem possible.

  Judith was deep in thought as she cycled down the High Street. She didn’t see any of the elbow nudges and amused looks from the locals as she passed, her dark grey cape flying behind her, her legs pedalling as hard as they could. Before she reached the suspension bridge, she lifted her feet from the pedals and freewheeled down the path that led through the graveyard to the entrance of All Saints’ Church.

  Judith leant her bicycle against the wall and tried to put her thoughts in order. Her immediate concern was simple. She had a theory that Elliot was involved in Stefan’s death. And if he were, then he could hardly have been at choir practice the night before, could he? She just had to prove it, which was why she was popping into All Saints’.

  Judith wasn’t a regular churchgoer. She was one of those people who’d happily tell anyone who asked that she only went to church on high feasts and holidays, whilst not quite noticing that she didn’t go to church on those days either. But she was on nodding acquaintance with the vicar, a very nice young man called Colin Starling. Perhaps he’d be in the church and would be able to tell her if Elliot had attended choir practice?

  Once inside, Judith took a moment to enjoy the feeling of peace that came over her. How a stone building many hundreds of years old could feel so light and airy was always a mystery to her, but she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the high, vaulted ceilings, the elegant stone pillars, and the ancient banners and standards of local regiments hanging from the walls. The Church of England was the perfect metaphor for the country as a whole, she felt: pleasing to the eye, staunchly old-fashioned, and waning very much in popularity.

  There were notices on a corkboard by the entrance, and Judith started looking for any kind of reference to choir rehearsals. Or, better yet, a list of everyone who sang in the choir. She couldn’t find anything that helped her, which she found briefly irritating. There must be choir notices somewhere. Where were they?

  Judith decided to go and look in the vestry where the choir got changed.

  Pushing open the oak door, Judith called out, ‘Hello?’

  There was no one about, so she entered. She could see that the choristers’ surplices and ruffs hung from pegs, there was an old cupboard built into the wall that Judith guessed contained the vicar’s vestments, and she also saw a desk with papers and a computer on it, but otherwise the room was empty.

  Or was it? Judith felt a prickling sensation, as if someone was watching her. But how could that be possible? There was no one else in the room. Very well, she thought to herself, it was time to find out about the choir’s rehearsals.

  Judith searched the desk, but she still felt unsettled. Some sixth sense was telling her she wasn’t alone. But the room was so tiny, there was nowhere to hide. Although, Judith supposed, there was the built-in cupboard. But why would anyone hide inside a cupboard?

  Judith saw some choral music on a shelf, so went over to see if she could find a list of choristers there, but she had to stop herself again. She still felt as though someone was looking at her.

  To settle her mind more than for any other reason, Judith went over to the cupboard, opened the door and saw that it contained nothing more than the vicar’s robes on hangers. Just as she’d suspected.

  Although it also seemed to contain a middle-aged woman who was looking straight at her.

  ‘Oh,’ Judith said, surprised. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Yes, sorry, about being in a cupboard,’ the woman said, embarrassment pinking her cheeks. ‘You must think me quite strange.’

  Judith was baffled. The woman in the cupboard looked entirely respectable. In fact, more than that, she positively glowed with expensive good health. She was in her early forties, with sleek blonde hair, and was wearing a quilted black gilet over her top half, tight-fitting jeggings over her lower, and bright pink running shoes. What on earth was she doing hiding in a cupboard in an empty church?

  ‘It does seem a bit unconventional,’ Judith conceded.

  ‘I can explain,’ the woman said in a rush. ‘You see, I only came in to tidy up the vicar’s crockery.’ The woman held up her hands, each of them brandishing a floral mug. ‘Colin is so bad at tidying, and they’ve been in here gathering dust and mould for days. Anyway, I didn’t think I’d meet anyone. And then I heard someone come into the church, and I panicked. I just didn’t want to meet anyone today. Especially one of Colin’s parishioners. Oh God, that sounds bad, doesn’t it? You’re not one of his parishioners, are you?’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about that,’ Judith said with a smile.

  ‘Good! I mean, not that it’s good that you don’t come to church, oh I’m sorry, I’m making rather a hash of this, aren’t I? But anyway, the point is, when I heard footsteps approaching the vestry I hid in the cupboard.’

  ‘And closed the door behind you?’

  ‘That’s right. It sounds mad, doesn’t it, now I’m saying it out loud. Do you think it’s mad?’

  ‘Not at all. But let me introduce myself. I’m Judith Potts.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’

  ‘You do?’

  Now it was Judith’s turn to be surprised. She was sure she’d not met the woman in front of her before.

  ‘And I’m Becks Starling,’ the other woman said, offering her hand. ‘Becky, actually. Although most people call me Becks.’

  ‘You’re the vicar’s wife?’ Judith asked, delighted.

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ Becks said with a bashful smile. ‘Someone has to be. Do you mind if I get out of the cupboard?’

  ‘No, please do.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Becks said, and clambered out.

  This left the two women at something of an impasse. There wasn’t any kind of agreed etiquette for continuing a first meeting between two middle-class women when one of them has just been found hiding in a cupboard.

  ‘I mean it’s not ideal, is it?’ Becks said. ‘Hiding away like that. At my age.’

  ‘Oh I don’t know. I remember at university I had a ground-floor set of rooms and I hid under my desk when a friend came to visit who I didn’t want to see.’

  ‘Yo
u did?’

  ‘Only for a few moments. Or so I thought. Turned out my friend really, really wanted to see me. She waited outside my window for nearly three hours, which meant I had to hide under the desk for nearly three hours. But I could never reveal I was hiding from her, it would have been too embarrassing. I ended up having to pee in a metal wastepaper bin, and you’ve no idea how hard it is peeing in a metal bin while hiding under a desk.’

  ‘I don’t normally hide in wardrobes,’ Becks said in an attempt to distance herself from the woman in front of her who openly admitted to peeing in bins, and who, she now realised, could very well be mad.

  ‘But how can I help you?’ she continued. ‘Are you looking for Reverend Colin?’

  ‘Oh no, nothing so grand. I was just wondering if there was a list anywhere of the people who sing in the church choir.’

  ‘Well, as it happens, there is,’ Becks said, heading over to a piece of paper that was hanging on the back of the door to the vestry. ‘It’s here.’

  Judith saw thirty or so names on the paper written out in different hands and different inks, with quite a few crossed out.

  Before Judith could find Elliot Howard’s name, Becks straightened the piece of paper as it wasn’t hanging neatly from the drawing pin.

  ‘Sorry, if you could let me read—’

  But now it was skewiff in the other direction, so Becks rotated it back.

  ‘Sorry, it’s not straight.’

  ‘If you don’t mind—’

  Becks yanked the paper from the wall and carried it over to the desk.

  ‘I’d better write this out again, it’s a mess,’ she said, getting a sheet of A4 from a printer to the side of the desk.

  ‘I only wanted to see if Elliot Howard was a member of the choir.’

  Becks stopped what she was doing and looked at Judith, surprised.

  ‘Elliot? Oh yes. He’s been in the choir for years.’

  ‘He has?’

  ‘For as long as I can remember.’

  ‘Then can you tell me, was there a choir practice last night?’

  ‘There was.’

  ‘And he was here, was he?’

  ‘He was.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Quite sure. You see, I sing in the choir as well. He’s a baritone, I’m a soprano.’

  ‘What time was choir rehearsal?’

  ‘Well, we first have a full rehearsal with the boy trebles from seven to eight. And then at about eight we let the trebles go, and the adults stay on to rehearse until about nine.’

  ‘So Elliot was here at eight o’clock?’

  ‘He was here the whole time from seven until nine.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Absolutely sure. But why are you asking?’

  Judith hesitated, wondering what to say. Then, as was so often the case with her, she decided that honesty was the best policy.

  ‘I think he’s involved in a murder.’

  Becks shot up from her chair.

  ‘What?’

  ‘In fact, I think there’s a chance he killed my neighbour last night.’

  Judith could see Becks’ mind spinning, speech very much beyond her.

  ‘I know,’ Judith agreed. ‘It’s quite the statement.’

  ‘He’s a murderer?’

  ‘Would that surprise you?’

  ‘Of course, we’re talking about Elliot Howard here.’

  ‘You know him well?’

  ‘Not really. Now you mention it. He’s one of those men who prefer the company of the men in the choir, I think. Sorry, what murder? There’s been a murder?’

  Judith explained the chain of events that had led her to the church, and Becks hung on her every word.

  ‘You think Elliot killed Mr Dunwoody and you went and talked to him?’ she asked when Judith had finished her tale.

  ‘Someone has to. The police are being useless. They think Stefan’s death was an accident or suicide.’

  ‘Well, I can tell you that Elliot was here last night between seven and nine.’

  ‘And you’re sure he didn’t slip off at all?’

  ‘Oh yes. Quite sure.’

  ‘Not even for a few minutes?’

  ‘There’s always a short break at about eight o’clock, as the trebles leave, and people go for a loo break. So it’s possible Elliot left then.’

  ‘You think maybe he left the rehearsal at eight and didn’t come back for the second half?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I don’t know. Although, now you mention it, I remember seeing Elliot arrive for seven, but I’m not sure I noticed him after that. It’s possible he left during the loo break at eight and didn’t come back. It’s like I said, he and I don’t really talk.’

  Judith was thrilled. If Elliot left the rehearsal at eight, he’d maybe have had time to get in a car and drive over to Stefan’s house to shoot him dead at ten past eight. It would have been tight, but just about possible, she thought.

  ‘I don’t suppose the church has any security cameras, does it? Any kind of video recording that might show the choir rehearsal last night. Or people coming or going.’

  ‘As it happens, we do. There’s a little camera in the gallery. In case of break-ins or any other sort of anti-social behaviour.’

  ‘Do you think we could look at the footage from last night?’

  Judith could see that the idea shocked Becks.

  ‘I’m not sure about that. I don’t think I should be showing you anything on Colin’s computer.’

  Judith considered Becks for a moment, and then she reached into her handbag and pulled out her tin of travel sweets. She popped the lid in a puff of icing sugar and held the tin up for Becks.

  ‘Travel sweet?’ Judith asked.

  ‘No thanks,’ Becks said, who was startled that someone would offer her a sweet. Did she look like someone who ate sweets?

  Judith put a sweet into her mouth and sucked on it while she considered her options.

  ‘Then I suppose we’ve no choice,’ she said, snapping the lid closed and putting the tin back into her handbag. ‘We’ll have to get the police involved.’

  ‘You think the police will need to look?’

  ‘It’s inevitable, I’m afraid. Once I tell them about Elliot, there’ll be police with search warrants crawling all over this place. I imagine it will cause quite the scandal, and the press will follow, you know what they’re like. There’ll be paparazzi hiding in your shrubbery and publishing unflattering photos of you taking out the bins.’

  Becks was waking up the computer before Judith had even finished speaking.

  ‘No, you’re right. We should have a look for ourselves so the police don’t need to get involved.’

  Judith smiled warmly.

  ‘Now that’s an excellent idea.’

  Becks began clicking various icons on the monitor and opened up a window that showed a live black-and-white feed of the main body of the church, including the choir stalls.

  Becks double-clicked a video file and another window opened, looking exactly the same as the live feed, but Judith could see it was dated the day before. She then watched as Becks dragged the slider on the window until the time stamp read 7 p.m. As she did so, the choir stalls started filling up with an assortment of boys in the front pews and twenty or so men and women in the others.

  It was possible to see that Elliot Howard was standing in the back row.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ Becks said in horror.

  ‘What is it?’ Judith asked, excitement blooming as she wondered if this was the moment she was about to discover that Elliot Howard was the killer.

  ‘Am I really that fat?’ Becks said, pointing at the recording of herself as she chatted to friends.

  ‘You’re not fat.’

  ‘I am if that’s how I look.’

  ‘Believe me, you’ve nothing to worry about,’ Judith said.

  ‘That’s it, I’m going to cut all dairy out of my diet.’

  Judith struggled
to be sympathetic. Why couldn’t people be happy with who they were? But there was no point arguing with a woman like Becks, she was too far gone. Instead, Judith peered at the monitor.

  ‘That’s Elliot there, isn’t it?’

  Becks refocused on the screen.

  ‘That’s him. And if I fast-forward, let’s see if he leaves.’

  Becks hit the button a few times until the time stamp in the bottom corner started whizzing forward, and Judith could see that the choirmaster and choir were in position the whole time. Then, as the clock rushed up to 8 p.m., the boys all suddenly left, and plenty of the adults left their positions, chatting to each other or heading off for a few minutes. But Elliot stayed where he was.

  By 8.07 p.m., the adults were all back in the choir stalls, and the rehearsal carried on. And still Elliot hadn’t moved. Not once. Nor did he pluck out his mobile to make a call or check it in any way. He just sat on his own in quiet contemplation.

  ‘He didn’t go anywhere,’ Judith said, disappointed.

  ‘Well, that’s good news, isn’t it?’ Becks said.

  Becks kept the footage whizzing forward, and the two women saw that Elliot didn’t leave his position until shortly after 9 p.m., when the rehearsal began to break up for everyone.

  Becks took her finger from the mouse, and the footage resumed playing at normal speed.

  ‘So there we are,’ Becks said. ‘Elliot was there from seven to nine. He can’t be your murderer. Thank heavens.’

  ‘I suppose not.’

  Judith felt cheated. This wasn’t the answer she’d been looking for, and as she watched Elliot chatting easily with three other men as they left the rehearsal, she had to admit that he wasn’t behaving like someone who’d been involved in a murder, either. He seemed relaxed and in good spirits.

  ‘Hold on,’ Judith said, indicating the monitor, ‘what was that?’

  On the screen, Elliot had just passed out of shot with his friends.

  ‘What was what?’