Sidney Chambers and the Perils of the Night

by James Runcie

  ‘We will leave now,’ Sidney said firmly. ‘And are sorry to have disturbed the calmness of your evening.’

  ‘I would have thought that you had better things to do on this holy night,’ Professor Todd replied.

  ‘I do. But there are times when darkness needs a little light.’ Sidney glanced at Hildegard. She said nothing but raised a quick and quizzical eyebrow meant only for him.

  After he had seen Hildegard home, Sidney sought out Inspector Keating. They were just a few minutes shy of closing time and this was the ideal opportunity to discuss the current situation and the likelihood that Dr Cade had been murdered.

  ‘I don’t know what made you so suspicious in the first place,’ Keating began. ‘Do you worry about every death you hear about?’

  ‘I try to pray for every soul that is in my care. I didn’t know Adam Cade well, but the circumstances of his death were unusual, and the college was in too much of a hurry to get Charlie Crawford out of the way.’

  ‘And you don’t think he could have done it?’

  ‘I know it is not impossible for a man to deliberately implicate himself, but I do think that, in his case, it is unlikely.’

  ‘Mrs Staunton has expressed concerns about the Professor of Music. She told me about the musical code. Do you think that’s showing off, or something more sinister? I imagine both Richards and Cade preferred the company of men to women.’

  ‘I believe that may be the case but I don’t think that this is a matter of sexual jealousy.’

  ‘A different kind then?’

  ‘I think it is more to do with professional envy; with being outclassed or exposed.’

  ‘Which leads us back to Professor Todd.’

  ‘We need to get into his rooms.’

  ‘I imagine that is straightforward enough. You lot are always in and out of each other’s rooms. And there’s the rewiring as well.’

  ‘Todd has put himself in charge of all that. I imagine that if there is any evidence he will have got rid of it by now. But I’d like to know if the wiring to the bath continued into the rooms above.’

  ‘Professor Todd’s?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘This is a very complicated case, Sidney. A man has been electrocuted in a locked bathroom. The only chance we have of proving Todd’s culpability is if he tries to strike again. Do you think he knows we are on to him?’

  ‘I think Mrs Staunton may have let something slip about the music in chapel.’

  ‘To Todd himself?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘You mean that if Todd is the guilty party she has been deliberately putting Professor Richards’ life in danger?’

  ‘I don’t think she has been doing it on purpose.’

  ‘Good God, man, I have warned you about this before. You can’t entrap people.’

  ‘Mrs Staunton is rather new to the game, I am afraid.’

  ‘It’s not a game, Sidney. Do you mean to say that Todd might try the same thing on Richards?’

  ‘It is a possibility. That is why I have come. I’d like us to put a watch on Richards and his rooms.’

  ‘I have to be invited into the college, you will remember.’

  ‘We can act under cover of darkness.’

  ‘You want to start on all this tonight?’

  ‘Time is of the essence. I will clear everything with the Master in the morning.’

  ‘Are you sure this is wise?’

  ‘Trust me, inspector.’

  ‘Sidney, you know I don’t like it when you ask me that. It always leads to trouble.’

  ‘And sometimes,’ Sidney answered firmly, ‘it also leads to a conviction.’

  He returned directly to the college. Before he could proceed any further, one of the porters told Sidney that the Master wanted to see him in the Lodge. He was agitated that a search had been conducted of another man’s rooms with a former employee and a mere guest.

  ‘You do not want to make an enemy of Professor Todd,’ the Master advised.

  ‘I am aware of the dangers.’

  ‘What were you doing in Cade’s rooms anyway? This whole business has caused enough trouble. I do wish that you would keep out of the way.’

  ‘I was worried about the rewiring.’

  ‘That is nonsense. I do not believe you for one minute. It is also no concern of yours. As you know perfectly well, Professor Todd is dealing with all matters electrical.’

  ‘I have every confidence in him.’

  ‘It is clear that you do not. But I do not think you understand. The cost of the rewiring is likely to be far higher than we originally anticipated.’

  ‘Although not as costly as the life of a man,’ Sidney said almost to himself.

  The Master heard his words all too clearly. ‘What are you implying?’

  ‘I would rather the task of overseeing the rewiring was given to someone else.’

  ‘That is quite absurd.’

  ‘I would feel a little easier.’

  ‘Sidney, this really is none of your business. You are surely not volunteering for the job yourself?’

  ‘Charlie Crawford knew what he was doing. He thinks the wiring has been tampered with. I would like your permission to bring in the police to deal with matters.’

  ‘Again?’

  ‘I am afraid so.’

  ‘You are fully aware of what you are asking?’

  ‘It is why I have delayed this request for so long.’

  ‘Can they be relied on to act with discretion?’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘That is not very reassuring.’

  ‘I am trying to be honest with you, Master. This is a very delicate situation.’

  Sir Giles poured himself a stiff whisky. ‘When is Dr Cade’s funeral?’

  ‘Wednesday.’

  ‘Very well. You can have until then to prove any theory that you might have. I am not at all convinced that Dr Cade met his end through foul means but I will allow you limited freedom to investigate. If you are proved wrong, it will be the last time I concede to such a request. Then we must let the funeral take place in peace.’

  Hildegard tried not to let her worry about the dangers of the situation show and felt guilty about returning to her piano practice. It was selfish, she thought, to resume normal life, as everyone else in the college seemed to be doing, so quickly after a death.

  She was working her way through Beethoven’s last piano sonata, No. 32, Opus 111. The first movement, Allegro con brio ed appassionato, was in one of Beethoven’s most emotional and impassioned keys, C minor, and the underlying melody was the text of Bach’s famous cantata Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott. It lay behind the main theme, just as her anxiety underpinned each current thought.

  Was it really Sidney’s duty, she worried, to involve himself in Adam Cade’s death? If she were to see him more often, and even perhaps become his wife, would the business of criminal investigation become part of their marriage on a regular basis or would Sidney consider giving it up? She could tell that he enjoyed the thrill of investigation more than he was prepared to let on, and she knew that once he had started it was impossible for him to content himself with the business of being a priest. Faith alone was not enough to quell his curiosity about life.

  She turned to the second movement of the sonata, the arietta, and struggled with the trill and the subsequent division of bars into eighty-one parts. She slowed her performance down, first to half tempo and then stopped completely in order to work methodically on each individual bar, going over it again and again, gradually increasing the speed as she became more aware of the technique required.

  The third variation, with its dance-like character, felt like playing boogie-woogie and she smiled at the notion of telling Sidney how close she thought it was to ragtime. She even imagined the horror that would spread across the face of Orlando Richards if she expressed the idea that Beethoven was one of the founders of jazz.

  As she did so, she wondered how possible it would be
to return to England. She couldn’t imagine Sidney going to live in Germany and assumed that if they were to spend more time together then she would have to come back to Grantchester: unless, of course, her future husband had some form of promotion. She could tell that he had the intelligence and the talent to rise through the ranks of the Church of England but she worried that his detective work was impeding his career. He had already confessed to the archdeacon’s warning. But perhaps the fact that he was involved in all these investigations was an inevitable part of his character; testimony to his willingness to engage in the darker side of the human story? To take away this sphere of activity would make him a lesser man; less involved, less committed, and less like himself.

  Her task, she decided, as she took the music at a run once more, was to help him become a more complete priest; and his task was to realise what she had to offer and how much more they could achieve if they were together. In the meantime, however, there was a mystery to solve.

  Hildegard sighed as she finished the piece and closed the keyboard. She could play so much better, she knew, and there was so much more work to be done.

  It was not clear how soon Keating’s ‘watch’ on G staircase would begin and Sidney asked Hildegard whether they should warn Orlando Richards that a surveillance operation was about to commence. She reminded Sidney that, despite his undoubted charms, the Professor of Music had still not been ruled out as a suspect. What exactly were his motives in planting coded messages within his compositions? Could their implementation simply be explained as some kind of donnish exhibitionism and was there anything that had been overlooked? Why, for example, had the professor so willingly vacated his rooms to Hildegard, and was there anything significant in the choice of Peterhouse as his place of refuge? Had he either suspected that some foul play was in the air or even been the perpetrator?

  Sidney walked across New Court and climbed to the first floor of G staircase. Cade’s rooms were closed but the Professor of Music was not only sporting his oak; the inner doorway was ajar. On pushing it open Sidney could see Edward Todd in the far corner of the room in a kneeling position behind Orlando’s two-bar fire. He was fiddling with the back and rummaging around by the socket. After Sidney had expressed surprise at finding the dean of the college in another man’s rooms he asked what was going on.

  ‘This is my fire. I am collecting it. Professor Richards has failed to return it to me.’

  ‘Then why do you not simply unplug it?’

  ‘That is what I was doing.’

  ‘I don’t think you need a screwdriver to do that.’ Sidney had noticed the thin metal object in his hands. ‘What are you doing in his rooms in any case?’

  ‘I might ask the same question of you.’

  ‘Professor Richards has invited me in for a drink. He will be along shortly,’ Sidney lied.

  ‘I wanted to get my fire back.’

  ‘How did you know Professor Richards had it?’

  ‘The porters asked me. It was meant as a temporary measure. It was an act of goodwill on my part, if you must know. Not that this is any of your business.’

  ‘And are you aware of Professor Richards’s routine?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You know that he plunges his hands into warm water before playing?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And you are aware of the dangerous combination between water and electricity?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then you will not mind if I examine the plug that is affixed to his fire.’

  ‘Why would you want to do that?’

  ‘Because I believe you have hard-wired the fire to the mains. A man touching it with damp hands would receive a severe, possibly fatal, electric shock.’

  ‘That is nonsense.’

  ‘There is a basin in the room behind you. Perhaps you would like to wash your hands and touch the fire yourself.’

  ‘Don’t be absurd.’

  ‘Touch it.’

  ‘I will not.’

  ‘Touch it.’

  ‘For God’s sake.’

  Edward Todd made a quick, and potentially fatal, decision. He advanced with the screwdriver in his hands, the metal tip raised as a weapon. Sidney took a step back and realised that he was either going to have to dodge his assailant’s approach, enter into some kind of fight, or retreat through the door as quickly as he could.

  Todd blocked off the exit. ‘None of this is any of your business.’

  ‘Everything is my business.’

  ‘You are only making matters worse, Canon Chambers.’

  Sidney wanted to say that the reverse was the case but knew that such a remark would only place him in further danger. ‘Put the screwdriver down.’

  ‘I need it. It is about to come in very useful.’

  Sidney played for time. ‘Why have you done all this, Todd?’

  ‘I haven’t done anything.’

  ‘You killed Cade.’

  ‘I did nothing of the kind. It was a heart attack.’

  ‘No,’ Sidney replied. ‘It was an electric shock.’

  ‘I don’t know how you’ve come to that conclusion. By what logic . . .’

  ‘You know far more about wiring and are more practical than you have been prepared to let on. I see that . . .’

  ‘Then I’m going to make sure you don’t see anything else.’

  Todd lunged forward. Sidney picked up a chair and threw it in his way. He was going to have to get to the door as soon as he could. ‘This is not going to help, Todd.’

  ‘No one has ever helped me. I have to do everything myself.’

  ‘That’s not strictly true, though, is it?’

  Todd stopped for a moment. He was still holding the screwdriver. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You used some of Cade’s work in your thesis. He certainly helped you, not that he was aware that he was doing so.’

  ‘I’m not admitting to that kind of nonsense.’

  ‘He was about to accuse you of plagiary, wasn’t he?’

  ‘That is a lie.’

  ‘No, Todd. It’s why you killed him.’

  ‘No one can prove that.’

  ‘When you explained your theory . . .’

  ‘I don’t expect a man like you to understand any of this. You are a troublesome priest and you are out of your depth.’

  Sidney was still far from the door and wondering how on earth he was going to attempt an escape when it opened suddenly, a whistle sounded and Inspector Keating came into the room with two police officers.

  ‘How dare you?’ Todd shouted before he was brought to the ground. ‘You can’t interfere in college life like this.’

  He was disarmed and handcuffed. ‘You have no authority here,’ he complained.

  Inspector Keating was having none of it. ‘Professor E.D.F. Todd, I am arresting you for the murder of Dr Adam Cade and for the attempted murder of Professor Orlando Richards and Canon Sidney Chambers. You do not need to say anything now, but anything that you do say . . .’

  Hildegard did not hear the news of the night’s events from Sidney but during a surprise visit to her lodgings by the Master of Corpus. He had come to explain the situation in person to Charlie Crawford, to apologise for all that had happened, and to offer him his job back.

  ‘That’s a relief, I must say,’ Charlie began. ‘I have a reputation, as well you know. That man was trying to ruin me.’

  ‘I think he was trying to protect himself, Charlie.’

  ‘With no thought for the working man.’

  Rather than accept a swift return to full employment, Charlie now used the opportunity to negotiate a rise in salary and the full payment of all the overtime that he considered due.

  ‘I must say,’ the Master had replied, ‘I think perhaps they could do with some of your negotiating skills in the Foreign Office.’

  ‘I just want to be paid for the work that’s done.’

  ‘At least in your line of business it is easier to establish wha
t is being done and what is not. Within academia it is so much harder to tell whether anyone is being productive or not.’

  ‘That’s why they pay you more.’

  ‘I’m not sure they do, Crawford,’ the Master added wistfully. ‘If you divided a fellow’s annual salary by the number of hours he works then he’s probably paid less than a plumber.’

  ‘I promise that I won’t charge you for this hour, Master.’

  ‘Then,’ Sir Giles observed tartly, ‘I won’t charge you for my time either.’

  After he had left, an appalled Grace Wardell tackled her brother, as she laid the table for their Saturday tea. ‘That took some nerve,’ she said.

  ‘You have to let them know where you stand. The fellows like a bit of banter anyway. Wouldn’t you agree, Mrs Staunton?’

  ‘I am not sure what you mean by “banter”?’

  ‘Quick chat, having a laugh.’

  Mrs Wardell poured out the tea. ‘It’s just being cheeky, if you ask me.’

  Her brother offered Hildegard an explanation. ‘You have to be English to understand it. It’s not something you’d find on the Continent, I imagine.’

  Grace Wardell was fussing. ‘I don’t know how you can be so sure about that. Do sit down, Mrs Staunton.’

  Hildegard was thinking about Dr Cade’s murder and how differently her stay had been to anything that she had been expecting. Tomorrow would be Easter Day and lunch with Sidney and they had hardly had a moment alone together.

  Her landlady put the food on the table. ‘Sausages in batter,’ she announced. ‘You know we have a special phrase for this dish, Hildegard?’

  ‘Yes, I think I know it. And in another house in Cambridge it would not be “toad in the hole” but “Todd” in the hole.’

  ‘Very good,’ said Charlie. ‘I see you have a sense of humour after all.’

  ‘Not really,’ Hildegard smiled. ‘After all that has happened, I am only just beginning to put my toe in the water.’

  ‘Now that,’ Charlie Crawford laughed, ‘is what I call banter.’

  Earlier that afternoon, Sidney had looked in on Keating in the police station in St Andrew’s Street. He wanted to discover if Professor Todd had made a full confession and if his suspicion as to the motivation of the murderer had proved correct. Todd had at first refused to answer any questions, quoting the ancient charter of 1231 given by King Henry III that awarded the university the right to discipline its own members, ius non trahi extra, and expressing a haughty disdain for the workings of the police.