Getaway With Murder

by McNeir, Leo

  “Try not to find any dry rot,” he said.

  In the diocesan office, Mr Maxwell closed his file. Whatever you thought of women priests – and he was not at all sure about the idea – they did listen properly and they tried to learn. Not like some of the men – her predecessor being one of them – who did what they thought and told you afterwards. You had to be firm with that sort.

  In the vicarage, Toni read her notes and made a list of jobs to do. Even the prospect of arranging a meeting with the surveyor thrilled her. Everything about her work was a source of excitement. She looked forward to exploring the church and getting to know every corner of the building. She liked that idea very much indeed.

  *

  Marnie was rummaging under the desk for a swatch of curtain materials when the phone rang later that afternoon. Anne, immersed in some designs of her own, picked up the receiver.

  “Walker and Co., good afternoon.” It still made Marnie smile to hear Anne use that formula when taking calls. She half listened, expecting Anne to announce the caller’s name and was surprised when Anne turned her head away, as if trying to speak in private. If anything, this had the effect of making Marnie listen all the more. She could just make out what Anne was saying in a tone slightly louder than a whisper. “Hallo … Yes, it’s me … Look, I thought I told you not to call me at work … it’s embarrassing, that’s why … you know why … yes … of course I do … don’t be silly … me too …” Marnie sat up on her chair, looking across at the back of Anne’s head. Suddenly Anne turned round and Marnie was caught staring. “Marnie?” said Anne. “It’s for you.”

  “What?”

  “It’s Ralph.” Marnie picked up her phone.

  Ralph was laughing. “I feel as if I’ve become the straight man in a double act,” he said.

  “Yes, well after this call I’m going to take Anne down to the boat and make her walk the plank into the shark-infested Grand Union Canal.”

  “Sorry to be the cause of so much disaster.”

  “Ralph, I’m glad you phoned. When you were here, I’m afraid I went on so much about my interest in the history of the place, that I didn’t give you time to talk about you.”

  “What about me?”

  “Your decision about the chair in America.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Beth told me you’d turned it down. You probably wanted to talk about it, but I never gave you the chance.”

  “Not at all. I decided that I was making a new start here, with a new book, a new boat and … perhaps even a few other things. I just thought I’d give you a ring to say hallo and see how you were.”

  “But I told you not to call me at work, you know why.” The sound of a loud raspberry coming from the phone could be heard clearly right across the office.

  *

  Saturday 22 July

  “If I look at another lot of curtain material or a colour chart this week, my eyes are going to fall out,” said Marnie over breakfast on Saturday. “Why don’t we go off for a picnic somewhere? We could visit one of those gardens open to the public for charity.”

  “Great,” said Anne. “Or there’s some sort of fair on in Hanford. I saw a poster in the shop window.” They decided to check the details when they went up to buy food. It was another fine day and they met the vicar coming out of the church gate. She was as effervescent as ever.

  “Do you know, I nearly swore in the church when the battery gave up in my torch just now.” Marnie laughed and Anne feigned deep shock. They walked along together and Toni told them about her conversation with the surveyor. “Anyway, I’m having a grand time exploring everywhere. I thought I’d start with the crypt and work up to the belfry.”

  “The crypt,” said Marnie. “Isn’t that a bit creepy?”

  “That’s what you’d expect, but actually, it’s just like a coal cellar. There’s a few hundredweight of it down there, left over from when there was a solid-fuel boiler. I’m going to see if any old people burn coal and distribute it round the village for the winter.”

  “The crypt,” said Marnie again. “Is it possible to get down there from inside the church?”

  “From inside? No, I don’t think so. There are steps round the back, some of them crumbly. You take your life in your hands going down there. Talking of which, I must go round and see your grave outside the wall.”

  Marnie felt her face tingle. “Unfortunate choice of words,” she said in a light tone.

  “What grave?” said Anne.

  “Oh, it’s just an old tombstone I came across by the wall of the churchyard. That’s all.”

  “It may only be a village church,” said Toni, “but it’s absolutely full of history. I never cease to wonder at it. I’m going to get to know it thoroughly from top to bottom, at least, I will do when I’ve got new batteries in the torch.” They walked on towards the shop and had gone only a short way when Anne suddenly stopped.

  “What’s the matter?” said Marnie. Anne cocked her head to one side.

  “Can’t you feel it?” she said. “The ground. Listen.” They did as she asked.

  “I can’t feel anything …” Marnie began.

  “Yes,” said Toni. “There is something.” Now, the trembling in the ground became a vibration in the air. Marnie saw Anne’s eyes widen and she turned to look over her shoulder. Rounding the corner about fifty metres away, their harness clinking, stirring up a small cloud of dust under their hooves, came a group of riders. They were dressed in the unmistakable uniforms of cavalry from the time of the Civil War. They reined in outside the pub. One of their number, evidently the officer in charge, spoke rapidly to his men and broke away from the group, riding towards the three onlookers. Marnie stepped forward as he drew near.

  “I’d know that hat anywhere,” she said, “even if I can’t see the face under it.”

  “I thought I recognised you,” said the rider. He sat tall in the saddle.

  “Is this a raid, or are your intentions peaceful?” said Marnie.

  “We’re doing a tour to publicise the fair in Hanford.”

  “The tour involves visiting the pubs in the nearby villages, no doubt.”

  “By coincidence it does.” Marnie turned to introduce Raymond to Toni and Anne.

  “Perhaps we’ll see you at the fair,” he added. He grinned amiably at the vicar and her dog-collar. “We can always do with some wenches.” Toni threw back her head and laughed.

  “Thank you, kind sir,” said Marnie, with a mock curtsy that contrasted interestingly with her jeans and slip-on shoes. Raymond raised his hat, wheeled round and re-joined his troop.

  “How do you know him?” said Anne.

  “Would you believe we met at Milton Keynes bus station?”

  “There’s more history about than you might ever imagine,” said Toni. “Now, where were we? Ah yes, torch batteries. What was it that you were wanting, Marnie?”

  “Just a few things for a picnic. I think we’ll visit a garden today. You can have too much history. What do you say, Anne?”

  “Suits me.”

  24

  Monday 24 July

  No wonder people make a fuss about Monday mornings, Anne thought, as she wrote her fourth message for Marnie and it was still only just after nine o’clock. She wondered what it must be like for people who did not love their work as she did. Three of the messages were from Willards, even though Anne had told the same person that Marnie had set off for the meeting over half an hour ago. Why did people have to panic? Marnie had organised everything down to the smallest detail and she had allowed two weeks for slippage. It was an odd state of affairs, she thought, when a sixteen year-old was making re-assuring noises to a major company worth millions. The phone rang again. She pulled the message pad towards her.

  “Walker and Co, good morning.”

  “Oh, er, yes … um …” The voice was familiar. Certainly not the woman from Willards. Very agitated.

  “Hallo. It’s Anne here, Anne Price. Who’s calling, ple
ase?”

  “Oh, sorry Anne. I was expecting it to be Marnie. It’s Toni.”

  “I’m afraid Marnie’s out this morning, at a meeting. She won’t be back till lunch-time at the earliest. Can I help?”

  “Er, I don’t think so. Thank you.”

  “Is something the matter? If it’s urgent I can get her on the mobile.” Anne had a vision of the porch fallen down, a pile of dusty rubble.

  “No, it’ll keep, but could you ask her to ring me urgently when she comes back?”

  “Would you like me to tell her what it’s about? Unless it’s confidential. I’ll just say you want her to contact you as soon as possible, shall I?”

  “Thanks, Anne. You could tell her it’s, it’s about her grave.”

  “Her grave?”

  “I’ll be back at the vicarage from about twelve onwards. Thanks a lot. Bye!”

  Well, thought Anne. The world’s going mad. I’m the only sane one left. And I haven’t even got my GCSE results yet. There must be someone sensible to talk to. She noticed Dolly curled up on Marnie’s chair and was about to engage her in lively conversation when the phone rang again.

  “Hi Anne, it’s me. There’s no-one here. The place is deserted. Any messages from Willards?”

  “They’re on their way. Should be with you any time now. They’ve been panicking about the timing for the re-opening. I’ve told them everything’s under control, but they seem to be in a tizzy.”

  “Some people are scared of their own shadow,” said Marnie. “Ah, here comes a car. They’ve made it. See you later.”

  “Before you go, the vicar rang up. She was in a bit of a state, too. Wants you to be in touch as soon as poss.”

  “They’re all at it. Must be an attack of the Mondays. That porch has been standing for six hundred years. It can manage a few more weeks.”

  “It’s not about the porch, Marnie. She wants to talk to you about … your grave, she said.”

  “My grave? Blimey. Things aren’t that bad, are they? My nervous breakdown, now that could be imminent, but the grave can wait a little longer, I hope. Okay. I’d better sort this lot out. I’ll talk to her later. Everybody’s gone mad except for us. See you!”

  And we’re heading that way, thought Anne as she put the phone down.

  *

  “Just collecting the empties,” Anne called up the ladder to Bob, the foreman.

  “Righto, me dook.” He waved down at her. Like all the men working on site, he liked Anne, liked her friendly manner, the way she was always around to keep the tea and coffee supplied. Not like some people. Marnie and Anne looked after you, especially Anne. She really spoiled them, so much that they would be quite sad to leave when the job was completed. There were some jobs where everything fitted into place. The foreman put it down to luck.

  Anne picked up the empty mugs and arranged them on the tin tray she had been given by Willards. She looked up at the foreman, who was fixing a new window into place.

  “Shall I bring some more in about an hour?” she called up.

  “Ta, very much, love.”

  “It looks great. Nice window.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Is that tarpaulin okay?”

  “Tarpaulin?”

  “From down here, it looks a little bit loose at the corner. Probably my imagination, I expect.” Without another word she turned and walked back to the office. She did not look back.

  When she was out of sight, Bob made his way to the end of the scaffold and examined the tarpaulin, pulling it back into position and making it secure again. It would have been a nuisance if the wind got up and lifted it off. He was glad the girl had spotted that, especially as the guv’nor drove into the yard a moment later. He liked Marnie too, but differently. Quite differently. She waved as she strode over to the office, but left him to get on with the job. They were okay, those two. They knew when to leave things alone. Leave men’s work to the men.

  Marnie dropped her bag on the desk and was glad to see that Anne was already putting the kettle on.

  “Phew! What a morning! How are things?”

  “Not bad. Coffee?”

  “Lead me to it.”

  “I’ve put your messages by the phone. Nothing urgent, oh, except the one from Toni. You can ignore the Willards ones, I expect.”

  Marnie quickly read through the list. “I don’t know why they’re making such a fuss. We’re ahead of schedule.”

  “That woman this morning,” said Anne. “She kept phoning to ask me things.”

  “Mobile phone-itis,” said Marnie. “It’s a well-known syndrome. How’s our work coming on?”

  “Fine. You were right about the tarpaulin. I dropped it casually into the conversation. Bob’s fixed it already.” Anne poured coffee and took it over to Marnie, who was pressing buttons on the phone.

  “I suppose I’d better ring Toni and see what’s bothering her.”

  “Have you had anything to eat, Marnie?”

  She shook her head. “Toni, hallo, it’s Marnie. Problem?” Marnie listened. “I see … first thing this morning … right … I’d better come and look … okay, I’ll see you there.”

  Marnie was already slipping her jacket off as she walked to the back of the office where the wardrobe stood. She quickly slipped out of her business clothes and pulled on a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans.

  “You can’t go round like this without eating,” said Anne. “It’s not good for you.”

  “No, mummy.”

  “I’m serious. Have a banana. It’ll keep you going till I can make you a sandwich.”

  “Yes, mummy.” She took a bite on her way to the door and winked over her shoulder.

  *

  “It really is good of you to come, Marnie. I felt so upset when I got here this morning and found it.”

  “I can understand why,” said Marnie, kneeling down to examine what remained of the headstone. “What do you think did this, a sledge hammer?”

  “I suppose so. It must have been a terrific blow to break it like this.”

  The headstone had fallen in three large pieces. Smaller chips of stone lay all about and fragments were scattered over a large area. The grave had been trampled and the flowers trodden into the ground. Marnie looked up at Toni, who was obviously still distressed at the sight of the desecrated grave.

  “Any idea when it could’ve happened?” said Marnie.

  “Yesterday, last night perhaps. Who knows? It’s horrible to think someone might have done such a thing at any time, but on a Sunday …”

  Marnie stood up. “Someone must have heard something,” she said. “Those houses aren’t all that far away. Although there was the fair at Hanford and it was a nice weekend. People would be out, I suppose.”

  “Do you think,” Toni began. “Do you think someone was watching, waiting until people had gone out, before doing this?”

  “Dunno,” said Marnie. “We’ve got to decide what to do about it. Sorry, I mean it’s your decision, of course, but we can’t leave it like this, can we?”

  Toni seemed to pull herself together. “No,” she said firmly. “No, we can’t. I don’t care what she may have done that made them bury her out here. She belonged to the village and has a right to a decent grave. I’m going to see she gets it.”

  “Toni …” Marnie spoke softly. “I believe there’s evidence that she committed suicide. You need to be aware of that.”

  “That’s what I figured. That’s what you hinted at, when we were looking out from the tower. Apart from witchcraft, it’s the obvious reason. Do you know why or how?”

  “She appears to have been mixed up somehow in the murder of the vicar in the Civil War. She hanged herself.”

  “You don’t mean … she could have been the one who did it?”

  “No. Not at all. There’s no evidence that she was anywhere near the church that night. It’s possible she may have found out who did it, perhaps someone in her own family. She may have felt remorse, who knows?”

&nb
sp; “How do you know all this, Marnie?”

  “Her father’s will, a bequest that paid for this headstone. I’ve been following it up and a colleague of Ralph’s came across some papers dealing with the period. I can show you the evidence.”

  “And you’re sure she could not have been the murderer or an accomplice?”

  “Quite the opposite, I think.”

  “Then I’m going to give her sanctuary. Can you help me shift these pieces of stone?”

  *

  They stood in the semi-dark, stretching their backs, breathing heavily in the dusty air that smelled of damp, old stone, mice droppings, coal. At their feet lay two pieces of headstone.

  “They were heavier than I imagined,” said Toni, gasping. “I shouldn’t have asked you to carry them with me.”

  “Don’t worry,” said Marnie between breaths. “We can probably manage the other piece between us.”

  Toni shook her head. “No-one’s going to run off with it,” she said. “It’s pretty well hidden by the undergrowth. I’ll come over later on with the wheelbarrow. That’ll make it easier.”

  “Okay,” said Marnie. “Take care on the steps. They’re more dangerous than the tower. I’ve never been in a crypt before. What’s it used for?”

  “Not a lot, really,” said Toni. “Mostly for coal, as you see, or nearly see. They used to bury people in them. Or keep relics if they had them … saints, martyrs. They sometimes used them as chapels for private prayer, even places of pilgrimage. This is rather a sad, dark place, I think. Pity, really. I’m going to clear it out and clean it up. But not today.”

  “No,” said Marnie. “Not today.”

  At the top of the steps Toni pulled the door shut behind them. “I’m going to have to get a lock for this door,” she said. “Sad, isn’t it? I’ve always been opposed to locking churches and here I am in my first church as vicar planning to put a lock on the bloody crypt! I’m sure nobody’s set foot in it for years.”

  “What are you going to do now?” said Marnie. “You said you wanted to give her sanctuary.”

  “I’m going to begin proceedings to have the grave relocated inside the churchyard.”