by Issy Brooke
Adelia had heard a few prepared speeches in her time, but this was one of the best. She had to act gently, however. She said, “Please know that I shall not judge you in any way. That is not for me, but for the Lord above to do. Tell me what is upsetting you. There is nothing so awful that cannot be overcome with friends, God, and a little good sense.”
“Oh Lady Calaway! I know we might have not fully understood one another in previous conversations but I can see now that you are an absolute treasure, and I can only apologise if my manner has been in any way offensive or rude!” Mrs Smith dropped her head again, hiding her face. In a much smaller voice, not much more than a whisper, she said, “I am told that the reverend is not at home. Is that right?”
“As far as I know, he is out visiting some parishioners in need.”
“Thank goodness for that. What I am about to say will shock you.” Her voice trembled but, noticeably, her hands did not. “I went to the church earlier today. I wished to sit in silence and contemplate the sad passing of Sir Phileas.”
Adelia knew she was lying. That was the most improbable thing she’d heard.
Well, that she had heard so far. It soon got worse.
“While I was there, I heard someone else come in, but when I saw that it was the reverend, I didn’t think anything of it. One trusts a man of the cloth, doesn’t one?”
“We do, yes. Go on.”
“He came to sit alongside me and once again, I thought nothing of it. He placed his hand on my own hand. I began to feel a little uncomfortable but I reminded myself that no harm could come to me in the house of God.”
“Harm comes through the work of men, regardless of the place,” Adelia said.
“Indeed! Exactly so! And that is what happened! Before I knew it, before I could react, he was upon me! Oh, Lady Calaway, I cannot tell you how scared I was. I could not call out. I could not move. He treated me roughly, pulling me to my feet, wrapping his arms around me – you have seen how tall he is, how strong!” She made sobbing sounds, her shoulders heaving, her head bowed.
Adelia felt a kind of fury rise up inside of her. She wasn’t entirely sure why. It wasn’t so much because Mrs Smith was so clearly lying to her – she was expecting her to do that, after all. Perhaps it was the subject about which Mrs Smith was lying? It was too serious a thing to use for one’s own selfish ends. It dealt an insult to every woman who had tried to speak out honestly about such a thing happening, and who had not been believed. Adelia took a deep breath and said, through slightly gritted teeth, “How far did things go? Do you need medical attention?”
“How ... oh ... I don’t know.” Mrs Smith hadn’t prepared her responses for all possible questions. “No, no. We remained upright, fully clothed, while he mauled me with his hands and pressed his face to mine. It was so utterly awful! And I think we were seen.”
“Who by?”
“This is why I have come to you, Lady Calaway, in spite of our misunderstandings yesterday.” She lifted her face at last and reached out to grab Adelia’s hand. “I was looking around the church, desperately willing someone to come in and rescue me from the dreadful assault, and I saw your own husband peek through the door. But before I could call out, he had gone! I do not understand why!”
Mrs Smith’s grip was firm and unrelenting. Adelia said, “I can only imagine that he thought it might be consensual.”
“How could he possibly think such a thing! What an insult. Oh, Lady Calaway, did he come here and speak to you of this?”
With an apology to the Almighty, she lied and said, “No, he has not spoken of it. He is a discreet man and you may rely on him. I can tell him what you have told me, and I can assure you that he will not think any less of you. As for Reverend Shale...this complicates matters.”
“No, don’t you see, this actually helps you to solve your puzzle!”
Murder was not a mere puzzle. Adelia cocked her head. “In what way?”
“I think it was staged,” Mrs Smith said rapidly. She was obviously back to her pre-prepared explanations again. “What if the murderer was not my husband after all, but the reverend himself? No, listen to me! Who has access to the bell tower at all times? He does! What if he is working with my husband? What if, between them, they are trying to frame me? Consider this – my husband could have given my handkerchief to the reverend to plant in the belfry for you to find. Is that not possible?”
“It is,” Adelia agreed. “But why would they wish to frame you?”
“To throw you off the scent, of course! It is simply misdirection to save themselves. And to further obscure their own part in things, and to make me look guilty, the reverend left the church door open and spotted Lord Calaway coming up the lane, and made his move upon me as Lord Calaway passed the open doorway. He knew that we would be seen and that I would be blamed, therefore fixing me in everyone’s mind as a wanton and fallen woman!”
Mrs Smith was a wanton and fallen woman, and Adelia had to concede that it was a clever trick on her part. By taking what people already thought of her, and twisting it for her own ends, she was halfway to convincing people about her version of events. If you started with the truth it was easier to make the rest of one’s lies sound true too.
“Let me get this straight in my head. You are saying that the reverend, in conjunction with your own husband, killed Sir Phileas? And now they both wish to blame you for it?”
“Yes.”
“But why did either of them kill Sir Phileas?”
“I don’t know! Don’t you believe me?” Mrs Smith said, her anger rising. Her face flushed dark red. “You cannot prove anything I have said to be false.”
“True, but...”
Mrs Smith leaped to her feet, knocking over the small table with her skirts. In a shocking and shameless display of anger, she kicked at the jug that rolled on the grass. “You have condemned me, you have all condemned me, just because I dared to be myself! I’ll show you – I’ll show you all!” She grabbed her shawl and spun around. She did not hesitate or look back. She stormed off across the lawn, and away down the side of the house.
It was true that Adelia would struggle to prove anything false. She bit her lip. Now what?
Adelia bent to collect up the scattered crockery and glasses. Mrs Smith was now on a knife edge, her decisions and reactions unpredictable, and her next move could be fatal – for someone.
Ten
Theodore did not return to the vicarage until just before dinner was about to be served, and Adelia had been growing increasingly anxious. He shot into their guest bedroom and began to dress in a hurry. Adelia was already in her evening wear. As he fought to get into a decent clean shirt and do up his collar, he rushed through an explanation of what he had learned that day.
“The reverend was seen by many people in Peverham that morning. I cannot see how he could have been there at the bell tower when the deed was done. He must be innocent.”
“That is interesting. You know, Mrs Smith came to see me earlier,” Adelia told him. “She claims that the reverend seduced her. Her lies make me feel quite sick. But are we absolutely sure that they are lies? Come here, my dear, let me do that collar for you before you become the first man to garrotte himself while dressing.”
Theodore stood still and tried to speak without letting his throat move. “I heard a woman giggling,” he said. “And I am convinced that the woman I saw on the road ahead of me was Mrs Smith. She looked back and saw me, and ran off ahead. I feel that we have indeed been set up, but not by Bertie Shale. It was her, her all along. She was not fighting him off when I saw her with him.”
“We must be completely sure on the fact,” Adelia said stubbornly. “Sometimes passion can look like resistance, or so I have been told.”
“My dear, believe me, I know what I saw. She was not resisting. She was not even passive. She was encouraging. And as much as I dislike the reverend, and more than dislike – his behaviour today has ripped out any remaining shreds of respect that I had for him
– I do not think that he was involved in Sir Phileas’s death. He is the victim of Mrs Smith’s machinations, as we are, though I am not sure as to what ends. What does she gain from this charade?”
“She seeks to put the blame on him. Her husband. Anyone else. She as good as challenged me to find evidence to the contrary. She knows the final battle is approaching and she is confident that she can win. Or desperate to try anything. A mix of it all, I think.”
“It is not like you to use such martial language,” Theodore said, taking her hands in his large warm ones.
She looked him directly in the eyes and saw only honesty, compassion and dignity. After spending the afternoon in the unpleasant company of Mrs Smith, she felt grubby and unclean. Theodore’s open expression was cleansing, somehow, and she felt a rush of love and gratitude for him. She kissed him, surprising him with her sudden movement.
“I have had a trying day,” she said, and left it at that. It was all too complicated to try to explain why Mrs Smith had unsettled her so much but it was enough to know that he cared about her, regardless. “Come on. We had better go down. Theodore, my dear, do present a pleasant face to the reverend in spite of what you know about him now.”
“I shall. But I will not drink tonight; it loosens the tongue rather too much.” He opened the door for her and led her out. “But after this is over, I shall be cutting all ties with this man, and I shall let him know exactly why. I won’t need alcohol to help me express my feelings to him, either.”
THEODORE RESOLVED TO stick to his declaration that he would abstain from alcohol and treat the reverend exactly as he had done before he knew the truth about the man. Still, he could not help feeling a ripple of revulsion as he looked at him.
And Adelia was right, too; what on earth did Mrs Smith see in him as a lover? She could have her pick of men if she cared to try, and by all accounts, she had done so.
Theodore then felt a slight prickle of annoyance that Mrs Smith had not set her cap at him. He shrugged it off as an unworthy sort of thought but still, that niggled, just a little. Why choose the vicar? He looked like a stick, he was not young, he was not rich, and had no prospects. If he were going to climb the greasy pole of the Anglican Church, he would have begun to distinguish himself by now. His only possible future was to sink into rural obscurity like a thousand countryside curates before him.
He remembered that Shale harboured a deep lust for Mrs Smith. She must have known of it. She might have rebuffed him endlessly over the years – until now. Perhaps, then, this display of passion was a new development.
His thoughts were interrupted by Shale making polite conversation about orchids or toll roads or something equally pointless, and he was glad when the soup course arrived and he was able to sip at his food without seeming rude for not talking. Adelia managed to eat and carry on the conversation but Theodore returned to his ruminations.
Mrs Smith could not have been unaware of the reverend’s interest in her. And when Adelia and Theodore had first arrived, he had asked Adelia to find a possible match for him. Surely at that point, then, he had not had his passion for Mrs Smith requited in any way. He must have been resigned to the fact that he could only lust after her from afar.
Theodore could see it now. Mrs Smith had definitely set up the encounter to somehow throw suspicion onto the vicar as well as, or instead of, making her own husband look guilty. Theodore nodded to himself. Yes; he and Adelia were looking for some rational motivation on the part of Mrs Smith, but the truth was, she was simply reacting in a panic as Adelia and Theodore got closer and closer to the real facts of the matter. She had no logical plan. She was merely acting out of desperation, trying everything to throw them off the scent.
Adelia and Theodore would never find an explanation for her actions, because there was none.
“Theodore? Theodore!” Adelia said.
“No, it was delicious,” he said hastily.
“Excuse me?”
“Ah – the soup?” he hazarded. He had finished and a maid was waiting to take his bowl. “I meant, it was delicious, but I do not require a second helping.”
“No one was asking you if you wanted a second helping,” she said somewhat snippily. “We were discussing the unveiling in the bell tower.”
“Goodness! When will it be? I thought it was all up in the air. Ha ha!” he said, unable to resist the joke he had just made. “Do you get it? The bells...”
“No,” she said, glaring at him, but he was sure there was just the hint of a twitch at the side of her mouth. Oh, why could she not be as free and open in company as she was with him in private?
“I am sorry. Please, do go on,” he said, chastened.
She nodded towards Reverend Shale, who was looking strained and unhappy.
“The problem is that I ordered the casting last week, before all this ... um, unfortunateness happened. There is a bell-foundry not too far away and the casting itself is not a long process. Once bells are cast, the cooling process takes many days but this morning I got word that the tuning was complete. Delivery and installation will be in the coming day or two. Mm.”
“But whose name will be on it?”
Shale wrung his hands, his plate of food lying untouched before him. “I fear that I cannot do right for doing wrong. I shall go ahead and perform the unveiling and take the consequences then. I do not think I have pleased everyone. Indeed, I rather suspect that I will have upset everyone possible with the solution I have come to.”
“How intriguing,” said Adelia.
He picked up a fork and stabbed at a piece of potato. “For all I know, my decision will simply precipitate more murders. And speaking of that,” he said, suddenly looking from Adelia to Theodore and back again, “Are you any closer at all to solving this case? Hm?”
Theodore felt awkward. Knowing what he did now, and after what he had seen that afternoon, how could he tell the reverend that their prime suspect was the woman with whom he was having a dalliance?
It turned out that his dear wife had no such scruples. She said, “Yes. Mrs Selina Smith is acting very suspiciously.”
Theodore realised what Adelia was doing as he saw the colour drain from Shale’s already pale and wan face.
“No – that is not possible, I mean, her husband ... perhaps ... but it is unthinkable ... you cannot. No. Surely?”
Adelia popped a morsel of food into her mouth and ate slowly, letting a gap develop in the conversation that the reverend tried to fill with his desperate babbling. “Mrs Smith is a paragon of good influence in the local community,” he said at last, firmly, and stabbed at another potato.
Adelia sipped at her watered wine. “Yet she holds secrets,” she said. She put her glass down and fixed the reverend with her stare. “I have discovered most of them.”
He was puce.
Before he could collect his wits enough to answer her, she said, in an altogether different tone of voice, “Oh, Theodore, dear, we must be here for the great unveiling, mustn’t we?”
“Oh, it is not for two days yet,” Shale said. “You know, if you have other things to attend to, you need not stay...”
It was noticeable that the reverend did not ask again about the progress of the investigation. Indeed, it was almost as if he wanted to drop the whole matter completely, and for Adelia and Theodore to go home at once.
ADELIA AND THEODORE spent the next day in Pever Magna. They wanted to get away from Peverham and the church, and allow all the principle players in the sordid little drama to relax a little – and potentially make mistakes. They had their own plans to make, too, and they did not wish to be overheard. They took a private dining room in the upstairs of a good hotel in Pever Magna, and ordered a large lunch to be delivered while they talked about their choices and the likely results of various courses of action. Adelia admired the cosy little room which was tastefully furnished in a way that reminded her of somewhere else. Perhaps it was just that all inns and hotels looked virtually the same.
&nbs
p; “I do feel that we must exclude, or include, Frankhaus in our list of suspects before we commit entirely to Mrs Smith,” Adelia said.
“It is a problem. The fellow won’t speak to me,” Theodore said. “But you are correct, as usual, my dear.”
She smiled briefly. “And I also think we need to rule him out – or not – before the unveiling of this new bell.”
“Bells,” said Theodore.
“Oh, do you think that’s how Shale has got around it?”
“He can’t have done anything else,” Theodore said. “The Smiths and the Frankhauses remain in the area, so even if Hinge is out of the picture, those two families both want to be seen as the main donor to this cause. They only thing that he can do is to have two bells cast, of equal size.”
“But the bells will then sound the same. It will make the tunes rather boring.”
“True. But he cannot afford to upset one family by appearing to favour another.”
“What utter nonsense. Oh – I wonder if Mrs Smith’s seduction of him has anything to do with it? Could she have ...” Adelia grimaced. This was very distasteful. “Could she have been acting on the orders of her husband in order to curry favour with the reverend?”
Theodore’s face showed the same disgust as she felt. “I believe that anything is possible.”
“How vile.”
“Quite.” Theodore poured a large glass of wine for himself, although it was only midday. She frowned at him but he shrugged. “I am making up for my sobriety last night. Anyway, I shall make this glass last, don’t worry. So, today, we must concentrate on Frankhaus.”
“I will go and speak to Mrs Frankhaus. Now that I know her secret, I shall tell her all of ours – don’t worry! Just whatever pertains to this investigation! She and Mrs Smith are not great friends and I think she will be interested in the whole thing. She might have insight for us.”