Furious Old Women

by Bruce, Leo

  “You were saying that you went to the church?”

  “Yes. At about five o’clock.”

  “That would mean that its lights were on and could be seen from outside?”

  “Yes. When I arrived the church was in darkness. I switched on the main light over the chancel.”

  “Was there anything unusual or out-of-place?”

  “Not that I observed. All seemed quite as it should be. Mrs Rumble keeps the church in order. I saw nothing to criticize though I was not that moment looking for anything.”

  “Was there any sign of the brass having been recently cleaned?”

  “Now there you have me,” said the vicar. “I did not notice the brass.”

  “Not even the lectern?”

  “No. The lectern is in the form of a magnificent brass eagle with outspread wings. It was a gift from the father of the Misses Griggs and Mrs Bobbin before I had the living. You may know the kind of thing?”

  “I do indeed.”

  “I certainly did not notice that afternoon if it had been recently polished.”

  “Pity. Did you happen to see a pair of galoshes near the door?”

  “Galoshes?” repeated the vicar.

  “Rubber overshoes.”

  “Near the door?”

  “Yes, Mr Waddell. Near the door.”

  “No. That would be most unusual.”

  “But it was dark when you arrived? You could have passed them?”

  “I think not. The switches for all the lights are at the West end of the church.”

  “Still, you can’t be certain?”

  “No. I can’t be certain.”

  “You see, Mr Waddell, there is a suggestion that Millicent Griggs went to the church that afternoon to clean her brass. She may have been murdered on the way to the church, or coming away from it, or even in it, for all we know.”

  “Terrible. Terrible.”

  “So anything you could tell me which would suggest that she had been there, or had not been there….”

  “I hardly know what to say. On the one hand all seemed so peaceful yet on the other I suppose that shortly before or after my visit…. Terrible. My wife would like you to take a cup of tea with us.”

  “I shall be delighted. You saw nothing?”

  “Nothing unusual, no.”

  “And heard nothing?”

  “Not in the church. Not at that time.”

  “Then?”

  “After returning here I set out to call on Miss Vaillant. Miss Vaillant, as you may know, occupies the Old Vicarage just opposite the church. I couldn’t possibly afford to keep it up and got permission to let it while we have moved into these more modest quarters. It was past six when I approached Miss Vaillant’s house. The church was, of course, in darkness. The village seemed quiet. A dark peaceful night. Then, just before I rang the bell, I heard the sound of a motor-bike engine starting up.”

  “Where?”

  “It sounded as though it came from the lane behind the church.”

  “Was that very unusual?”

  “Well, no. That lane is used, I gather, by the young people of the village. Harmless, I’m sure … I suppose … I hope. Our village policeman seems perturbed about it. He explained to me that once the young folk imagine they can do what they want….”

  “Yes, he gave me his views on public morality. So why did you particularly notice that motor-cycle being started?”

  “I hardly know. But I did notice it.”

  The cheerful daughter came to the door.

  “Tea’s ready,” she said, and Carolus found himself following her to a small drawing-room where Mrs Waddell was already seated behind a silver tray. “A lean and hungry-looking woman who seems thoroughly dissatisfied with life” was Mrs Bobbin’s description of her and it fitted. She did not look too pleased at the inclusion of Carolus in the party. She gave him a toothy and unwilling smile and after a minute or two spoke to him.

  “I may as well tell you, Mr Deene, that I was against my husband giving you any information in this matter at all. It seems to me wholly a police affair”

  “You think the police will discover the murderer, Mrs Waddell?”

  “I daresay. I’m not much interested. But I see no reason to assist a private detective. Milk and sugar?”

  “Please. I hope the police are successful,” said Carolus and added mischievously—” It would be disgraceful if a kind, generous and devout old lady could …”

  The thin face of Agatha Waddell had turned scarlet.

  “Is that the impression you have been given about the late Millicent Griggs?” she asked.

  “Agatha, my dear …” protested the vicar.

  “Now, mother,” said his daughter.

  “I don’t know who can have told you that,” said Agatha Waddell. “Millicent Griggs was kind to no one but herself, she was generous only to gain her own ends and as for her devoutness she was the most hypocritical, narrow-minded….”

  “Agatha, my dear, what will Mr Deene think of us?”

  “I don’t care what he thinks. If he’s fool enough to believe that Millicent Griggs was kind….”

  “You must forgive my wife’s strong feelings, Mr Deene. She had her difficulties with the late Miss Griggs, as we all had.”

  “Perhaps you were of the other faction, Mrs Waddell?” suggested Carolus.

  “Grazia Vaillant’s? Certainly not. A gushing insincere woman.”

  “My dear, we must be charitable in our judgments.”

  “There’s a limit to charity. I’ve seen my husband’s life here made a purgatory by these two self-centred, bigoted women.”

  “Aren’t you somewhat overstating the case, dear? They have been most generous.”

  “When it suited them. More tea, Mr Deene? I wonder how you would like being a vicar’s wife in a small country parish.”

  “I’m sure I should find it a most difficult transformation,” said Carolus, pacifically.

  “Intrigue, suspicion, back-biting, jealousy the whole time.”

  “You are not suggesting that Millicent Griggs was murdered from sheer malice, are you?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything. But there’s enough malice in Gladhurst to murder fifty people.”

  “You alarm me.”

  “Millicent Griggs herself was capable of it.”

  “Really?”

  “I know for a fact that she wrote to the Bishop.”

  “What about?”

  “Prejudice again. Fortunately the Bishop knows my husband. He has been here to lunch. Otherwise it might have meant all sorts of difficulties for us. She said that my husband intended to ride into church on an ass on Palm Sunday.”

  “And didn’t he?” asked Carolus who unfortunately knew very little about ritual.

  “Certainly not. She even implied that there was something between my husband and Grazia Vaillant.”

  “And …” Carolus stopped himself in time. “And that was an obvious lie,” he said.

  “Of course. There was no limit to what that woman would say.”

  There was a long pause.

  “I wonder whether just for the sake of form, Mrs Waddell, you will tell me how you spent that afternoon? I have to ask everyone that.”

  To Carolus’s surprise she acceded without protest.

  “I had my Mothers from four to six.”

  “Where?” said Carolus not revealing his ignorance of her meaning.

  “At the Institute.”

  “Oh, I see. And afterwards?”

  “I came home.”

  “And you, Miss Waddell?”

  “Who? Me?” laughed Rosa Waddell. “I was out on my bike. Went over to Burley, as a matter of fact.”

  “For anything particular?”

  “Not really. More for the run than anything.”

  “See anyone you knew?”

  “No. Can’t say I did. Why? Don’t say I’m a suspect? I often felt like bashing Millicent Griggs but you surely don’t think I actually di
d it?”

  “I haven’t got to the point of having suspects. I’m only just beginning to get a notion where it happened. I certainly don’t pretend to guess when or through whom. Were you back before your mother?”

  “Yes. I got my own tea. I was hungry, too. Then I settled down to a book. Thirkell. You know, goes on and on but you feel you have to find out what happens to the dreary people. Daddy popped in for a few minutes and rushed out again. Then mother arrived.”

  “You didn’t notice any times?”

  “I suppose daddy came around six and mother a good bit later.”

  “What do you call a good bit?”

  “Well, it was about a quarter to seven when mummy turned up.”

  “Thank you, Miss Waddell. I think you said, Mr Waddell, that you called on Miss Vaillant after coming home?”

  “I said I went to her house. I did so. In fact I had arranged to do on the previous morning.”

  “Did you stay long?”

  The vicar beamed good-humouredly. “I didn’t stay at all. I didn’t enter. Miss Vaillant was out. I rang several times without result.”

  “That’s interesting,” said Carolus seriously.

  “Yes,” smiled the vicar, who seemed to think he had made a good remark, “Miss Vaillant was out.”

  6

  MUCH though Carolus wanted to meet Grazia Vaillant he felt it more important to see the Rumbles, husband and wife separately. In piecing together his picture of events that afternoon, in fixing times and forming an idea of where the various inhabitants of Gladhurst were likely to have been, he needed to hear what the Rumbles would tell him.

  Another fine clear day found Carolus over at Gladhurst, making for the churchyard, since he understood that at this time the sexton would be working there. As he approached he heard a cheerful voice singing Rockin’ Along in the Breeze.

  He found Rumble, who stopped singing and looked up with a grin.

  “You’re the one who is going to find out who did for her, aren’t you?” he said.

  “I hope so,” returned Carolus briefly. Coming straight to the point, he said: “You found the body, I understand?”

  It seemed that Rumble did not like this short cut across his reminiscences.

  “I found the body,” he said, “but how did I find it? How was it I came to disturb the grave waiting for Mr Chilling? How is it Miss Griggs isn’t down there now and no one the wiser?”

  “Ah!” said Carolus who from many cross-examinations had learnt the value of this long-drawn monosyllable in such contexts.

  Rumble grinned.

  “There’s a lot to know about burying,” he said. “And from what I hear we’re not a patch on the ancient Egyptians. What do we do, when all’s said and done? Make a box for ’em with brass fittings and drop it under six foot of soil. Well, not six foot really because the ground doesn’t have to be dug more than six foot down. I always do mine seven. Seven to the inch. That’s how I came to know Chilling’s had been tinkered with. I dropped my tape down the evening before and said to old Mugger who was helping me, there you are, I said, that’s seven foot to the inch so Chilling’ll have the best part of six foot on top of him when he’s in tomorrow. Next morning when I measured it, it was scarcely more than five. So I said to myself this is funny, I said, something peculiar’s been going on here and I jumped in and started digging down again. It wasn’t two minutes before I came on Miss Griggs.”

  Rumble smiled broadly.

  “I suppose that was rather unnerving for you?”

  “Well, you get used to anything like that in this job.”

  “Do you really?”

  “I’ve never found what you might call a recent one before but I’ve come on old ‘uns. Been there hundreds of years and not much left. It’s not so bad as it was but my dad and grandad had the job here before me and I’ve heard it was a proper sardine tin before they enlarged the churchyard. There was vaults under the church cram-packed with coffins. You could smell it. Well, I think you can still, very often. Sort of musty smell. Outside in the old graveyard, which only went as far as that yew tree, they used to pop ’em in one on top of the other till they were only just under the surface. So it’s not surprising that now’n again when I’m digging a new grave I come on something, is it?”

  “I suppose not.”

  “Though of course not like this. She was lying on her back and the earth had been just shoved in over the top. It looked as though it might have been done in the dark. It was lucky I looked; otherwise she’d have been under old Chilling till Judgment Day and that would never have done, would it?”

  “Never,” agreed Carolus sternly. “What did you do when you found the body?”

  “Nipped straight over to see the Reverend Waddell. Course, he was very upset. He got on to the police right away and I will say they weren’t long in coming out. Then—you should have seen them. You’ve never seen such a pantomime in all your life. Every bit of ground was gone over inch by inch. They must have taken away a couple of hundredweight of soil. They was taking photographs and measuring up and examining the ground. But after all that, they said it was all right. We could go ahead burying Chilling that afternoon as arranged. That was a relief to everyone.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, the expense. He’d been taken over to Worsley’s the undertakers at Burley and was Lying there. It all costs money. And though I believe he’s left his widow comfortable no one likes to see it wasted, do they? Besides it was all arranged for that afternoon. Reverend Waddell was going to bury him himself. It would have meant time wasted. But the police seemed to understand that. They said it was all right to go ahead. So we did and Chilling’s down there on his own. Just the one bell, he had, and the organist without the choir. All very nice but nothing extravagant. You should have seen it when the Miss Griggs’s father was buried. That was a funeral. You’d have thought it was royalty. Of course he’d been very good to the parish. Fiver for me every Christmas and fifty quid in the Easter Collection. Not to mention other things.”

  “Were you digging the grave on that Thursday afternoon?”

  “That’s right. Me’n Mugger.”

  “What time did you finish?”

  “Must have been well before four. It was beginning to get dark and you know what time that happens. I daresay we’d finished and put our tools away by half-past three.”

  “Where did you put your tools?”

  “In the furnace room.”

  “Is that locked?”

  “No. No need in a place like this.”

  “So anyone can have used those tools to throw the earth over Miss Griggs’s body?”

  “I don’t suppose anyone knew they were there. The police examined ’em all for finger prints and there was only mine on them.”

  “I see. What did you and Mugger do when you’d finished?”

  “I went home. He lives over the other side of the village. He left me near my cottage and went on.”

  “While you were digging did anyone come to the churchvard?”

  “Not while we were digging, they didn’t.”

  “But afterwards? Did you meet anyone as you came away?”

  Rumble looked somewhat perplexed.

  “It doesn’t seem worth mentioning,” he said, “but as me’n Mugger left the churchyard we did happen to meet George Larkin and his son Bill.”

  “Where were they going?”

  “They went into the churchyard.”

  “To the church?”

  “I don’t know. It was getting a bit dark and we wanted to get home.”

  “Were you surprised to see the Larkins?”

  “I was a bit. George isn’t much of a churchgoing man though he does come sometimes on Sunday mornings.”

  “Did you speak to them?”

  “Just passed the time of day.”

  “They didn’t say where they were going?”

  “No. They never say much, as you’d know if you went to the Black Horse. Anyhow we didn’t
stop and ask questions.”

  “Have you ever seen them there before?”

  “Can’t say I have. But that’s not to say they’ve never been. No. I said good-night to George and Bill and went over to my home.”

  “Was there anyone at your home?”

  “Do you mean my old woman? There was no one else to be at home. No. She hadn’t come back from Vaillant’s then. She came in about five. I remember that because she said there was a light on in the church. Not often she’ll bother to speak. She’s a funny-tempered woman, my wife. Still, she did say that afternoon, there’s a light on over in the church. So I went out to look and she was right.”

  “What did you do about it?”

  “I was just going over when I saw old Flo coming across.” Rumble paused to laugh reminiscently. “You know Flo?”

  “By sight.”

  “She’s all right, is Flo. She’s a good sport! Liked all round except by some of the wives. They hate her, some of them. Think their husbands are too friendly with her. Well, so they may be. Flo doesn’t mind. Anyway, there she was. ‘It’s only Mr Waddell,’ she said, ‘I just saw him go in.’ I asked her where she was going and she said wouldn’t I like to know, then I heard my old woman coming so I shut the door to save trouble and argument.”

  “Quite.”

  “I didn’t bother any more about the church till after I’d had my tea, then when I looked out the lights were off. So I walked over and locked up.”

  “Did you look round before doing so?”

  “No. I didn’t go in at all. There was nothing to go in for.”

  “You didn’t meet anyone when you went across?”

  “Not a soul.”

  “Nor hear anything?”

  “Nothing unusual.”

  “Thanks, Rumble. You’ve been very helpful.”