A VOW OF FIDELITY an utterly gripping crime mystery

by Veronica Black

  ‘So you killed Bryan,’ Sister Joan said.

  ‘He liked to take long country walks,’ Derek said. ‘Very early in the morning I waited and saw him, tramping along and whistling. He never knew what had hit him! I had a quick look through his pockets in case he had some money on him. Then the police could’ve thought it was a robbery. He had the photo we’d had taken, copies of it, all ready to send out to remind people of the reunion this year. I decided to send them out nearer the time. I even sent one to him, but I don’t think it was ever opened or any notice taken of it. There are other people living in his cottage now.’

  ‘You really wanted a reunion?’ Sister Joan looked at him, at the handsome head silvered by moonlight, the proud stance.

  ‘I enjoyed college,’ he said simply. ‘I thought it would be interesting to meet everybody again. I told Serge that.’

  ‘You were seeing Serge?’

  ‘Now and then, just as a mate. Serge only liked girls. The Platonic ideal escaped him.’

  ‘Did it indeed?’ Sister Joan said dryly. Her fear was ebbing and something akin to anger was replacing it.

  Derek had killed a child out of spite. It was as clear as that. He had killed Johnny because Johnny was the son of the man he considered had betrayed him.

  ‘I went round to see him one evening,’ Derek said. ‘You know that Sally and I had lived for a time when we were first married in the same apartment block? Serge moved in as we moved out, but we weren’t close. Anyway he told me he’d been sent a copy of the photograph and had decided to go to it. He said more. He told me about Barbara having returned to this country because she wanted to keep track of her child, and he said that he was building up a dossier of dates when various things had occurred with a view to checking up, to finding out who’d killed Johnny Clare and Bryan. He felt there was a connection somewhere. He said that you’d been involved in a case down here, helping the police, and he thought that you might put your finger on some clue. Oh, Serge always rambled on when he was drunk. All about Paul suddenly deciding to act the queen in the hope of infiltrating the gay scene and learning something relevant! He was too keen on finding out the facts. I had some dope on me. I don’t use it myself but sometimes one has to give a little present in the circles I move in. I simply emptied a nice little selection into his drink when he was in the toilet and left him. He was already dead I think.’

  ‘And then came to the reunion as if nothing had happened.’

  ‘I had to work out who knew what,’ Derek said. ‘I had to go along with the idea that Barbara and Dodie and Paul had cooked up, that somehow we could put our heads together and find out the truth. Without telling you, of course. You’re a nun and nuns don’t play private detective unless it’s forced upon them. I was worried though, very worried when you went round to the flat. Serge had mentioned a new girlfriend, a girl called Patricia Mayne. I didn’t know how much he’d told her. I didn’t know if you’d bump into her at the flat and learn something or other. I decided that she would be much safer out of the way.’

  ‘So you killed her,’ Sister Joan said flatly.

  ‘After the theatre when we went our separate ways. I went to the flat, saw her coming out, introduced myself as an old friend of Serge’s, walked up the road with her, paused by the betting shop, took a step back — it was over in a moment. Then I went back to the flat; the lock on the door was broken so no difficulty there, had a good look round and saw nothing. Maybe Serge hadn’t any dossier at all. Maybe it had all been in his own head. But the rest of them weren’t stupid. Sooner or later someone might start making connections and that might lead to me. Then I decided that it would be best if another child was killed and Colin Mason took the blame. He’d known the Clares and if he was linked to one murder he could easily be linked to the others. He’d lent me a tie-pin once. Rather a vulgar thing, but I’d worn it once or twice, so I brought it down with me.’

  ‘And killed Finn Boswell,’ Sister Joan said.

  ‘Yes, that was the name.’ Derek sounded indifferent. ‘I slipped out while we were all milling around after we arrived, saw the kid playing and told him the sisters wanted to see him. We were just walking off when some crazy loon turned up. I pulled up my scarf, saying that I’d toothache, and the kid did my work for me, even called me Colin. I killed him straight off, hid him under some branches, dropped the tie-pin, and came back to help the little nun pick apples. It was so easy.’

  ‘And then he was missing and the men from the camp came looking for him.’

  ‘They would’ve found him sooner,’ Derek said, ‘but the loony—’

  ‘Don’t call him that!’ Her anger bubbled forth. ‘Luther is slow-witted, but not crazy. He’s an innocent!’

  ‘As you say. Anyway it wasn’t up to me to find the body, so we came back to the postulancy. That’s all really. I’ve been waiting all day for someone to connect the tie-pin with Colin Mason. And then you said Dodie had gone with the police—’

  ‘Accused of murder.’

  ‘I spoke too soon,’ he said with charming regret. ‘I assumed that Colin had been picked up and the police wanted to ask Dodie questions about him. That was a very careless thing for me to do.’

  ‘So you’ve come back.’ She rose slowly, standing with her back against the wall.

  ‘I made an excuse to Fiona and Barbara, nipped out of the pub and drove here. You did say you’d be in the stable.’

  ‘And now you’re going to kill me too?’ Her hands were cold and she held them clasped tightly within the sleeves of her habit. ‘What good will that do? You can’t put the blame on Colin Mason. You can’t stop the others from finding out the truth. Not now. The police know that Serge was working things out in his own mind — he left dates scribbled on a pile of old newspapers that contained accounts of Johnny Clare’s killing and the finding of his remains. It’s too late now.’

  ‘Quite right, Sister!’

  The two men who had just emerged from the stall where Lilith drowsed were, she decided, the most welcome people she’d ever seen.

  ‘The police were here already?’ Derek laughed, a sound horrifying in its casualness.

  ‘I didn’t know they were,’ Sister Joan said.

  ‘Miss Ford and Miss Madox came to the police station to see if they could help Mrs Mason,’ Detective Sergeant Mill said, nodding to Constable Petrie. ‘We drove up here, and concealed ourselves while you were in the chapel. Miss Ford said you’d announced that you’d be in the stable, so it seemed the logical place to wait. Mr Derek Smith, you’re under arrest for murder—’

  ‘It was a necessary punishment,’ Derek said. ‘Bryan was unfaithful to the promise we’d made to live together. He and Barbara had had a child. They’d had a child that Barbara gave away and my Sally couldn’t have children. My Sally started suspecting something was wrong and Serge talked to her; Serge put suspicion in her mind, so she didn’t want to go on living. She fretted and fretted and in the end she didn’t meet Barbara at all. And the others were getting together for the reunion, starting to piece things together. I wasn’t going to kill you, Joan. Why bother? You haven’t been disloyal.’

  ‘Be with you in a moment,’ Detective Sergeant Mill said.

  She nodded, turning to where Lilith stood, snorting slightly as the voices and the movement roused her from her doze, Lilith’s coat felt rough and warm and safe.

  The sound of a car starting up was followed by footsteps in the cobbled yard.

  ‘Are you all right, Sister?’ Detective Sergeant Mill asked.

  ‘I think so.’ She turned, her hand still stroking Lilith’s nose.

  ‘He’s mentally sick of course.’

  ‘Yes, that’s what they’ll say, isn’t it? Evil has no place in the modern world.’

  ‘I’m merely a policeman,’ he said.

  ‘You knew it was Derek?’

  ‘Your friend Dodie knew that her husband and Derek Smith met occasionally. She’d blotted out the fact that they probably enjoyed the same —
shall we say pleasures? — but when she saw the tie-pin she knew that her husband was already dead and couldn’t have had anything to do with Finn Boswell’s death.’

  ‘Perhaps deep down they were all beginning to know,’ Sister Joan said. ‘Paul said he’d lost his driving licence and came down with Derek and Dodie in Derek’s car. I wonder if he felt uneasy about their being alone together without quite knowing why. And Dodie insisted on going with Barbara and Derek when they went for a walk. Somewhere in her mind she must have felt uneasy about him.’

  ‘Mrs Mason will get bail and, I’m certain, after all the facts are known, a suspended sentence,’ the detective sergeant said.

  ‘I hope so. It’s all such a tangle!’ She pushed a straying curl of black hair back beneath her veil. ‘Everyone had a little piece of the puzzle. Even Fiona had been a teacher at Johnny Clare’s school and Serena must’ve sensed that Paul was heterosexual all along.’

  ‘We expect to get a lot of help from the gay community on this,’ he said. ‘Contrary to what you might think most of them are very much against child molesters.’

  ‘I never thought anything of the sort!’ she said indignantly. ‘Alan, if Bryan had kept his promise and made his life with Derek maybe none of this would’ve happened. Promises are so important! A broken promise is a breach of fidelity and when that is breached then there’s no truth or trust left.’

  ‘It’s getting late.’ He put out his hand, briefly touching her arm. ‘You’ve been very brave and rather foolish, as usual. With your written statement about this last interview and Derek Smith’s own state of mind the case will be cut and dried. No need for you to be involved further.’

  ‘He really loved Sally, you know.’ She spoke soberly and sadly as they left the stable together. ‘He really did depend on her. After Sally died he went after Bryan, and then after Serge and then poor Patricia Mayne, and then — all because of a broken promise!’

  ‘I’ll have a few words with the others and then get back to the station to complete the formalities. Are you coming?’

  ‘You talk to them. I’ve taken advantage of Mother Dorothy’s leave to speak for long enough.’

  ‘Sister, you ought to talk to somebody,’ he said. ‘You’ve just been on an emotional rollercoaster, not knowing what to believe about people who were once your friends, not knowing whom to trust. Even nuns require a bit of counselling now and then.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Alan.’ She gave him a teasing, kindly glance. ‘I have good counsel already, a friend who always listens. Good night.’

  Turning, she walked briskly down the side of the great house, heading for the outer door which gave access to the chapel at every hour. There would be good counsel there, she thought, and no broken promises. Nothing but the silence that calmed the heart.

  Later she would talk to the others, do what she could to help Dodie, but for the moment she must go where her first fidelity was housed.

  THE END

  ALSO BY VERONICA BLACK

  SISTER JOAN MYSTERY SERIES

  Book 1: A Vow of Silence

  Book 2: A Vow of Chastity

  Book 3: A Vow of Sanctity

  Book 4: A Vow of Obedience

  Book 5: A Vow of Penance

  Book 6: A Vow of Devotion

  Book 7: A Vow of Fidelity

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  GLOSSARY OF ENGLISH USAGE FOR US READERS

  A & E: accident and emergency department in a hospital

  Aggro: violent beha
viour, aggression

  Air raid: an attack in which bombs are dropped from aircraft on ground targets

  Allotment: a plot of land rented by an individual for growing fruit, vegetable or flowers

  Anorak: nerd (it also means a waterproof jacket)

  Artex: textured plaster finish for walls and ceilings

  A level: exams taken between 16 and 18

  Auld Reekie: Edinburgh

  Au pair: live-in childcare helper. Often a young woman.

  Barm: bread roll

  Barney: argument

  Beaker: glass or cup for holding liquids

  Beemer: BMW car or motorcycle

  Benefits: social security

  Bent: corrupt

  Bin: wastebasket (noun), or throw in rubbish (verb)

  Biscuit: cookie

  Blackpool Lights: gaudy illuminations in a seaside town

  Bloke: guy

  Blow: cocaine

  Blower: telephone

  Blues and twos: emergency vehicles

  Bob: money

  Bobby: policeman

  Broadsheet: quality newspaper (New York Times would be a US example)

  Brown bread: rhyming slang for dead

  Bun: small cake

  Bunk: escape, i.e. ‘do a bunk’

  Burger bar: hamburger fast-food restaurant

  Buy-to-let: buying a house/apartment to rent it out for profit