The Fossil Murder

by Evelyn James

  “Come through ladies, there is tea or lemonade, and fresh scones.”

  The morning room looked out onto a large garden at the back of the house. There were a dozen individuals in the room, nearly all were women. Clara was not entirely surprised. The timing of the meeting meant that most men who worked would not be around, also she suspected Reverend Parker’s slightly eccentric character was more attractive to women than men. She did note a couple of older gentlemen at the edges of the room.

  Wilhelmina settled Clara and Annie into chairs and then fetched them refreshments. The room was large and well-appointed. The sun flowed across a large Persian carpet and glinted on the glass front of a ticking grandfather clock. A chair had been placed alone near the windows, facing the others, and Clara guessed this would be Reverend Parker’s seat.

  “I suddenly feel nervous,” Annie confided. “I feel out of place.”

  “Far from it, Annie,” Clara told her softly. “This is where we are meant to be at this moment in time.”

  “That sounds almost spiritual!” Annie said in mild amusement.

  Clara rolled her eyes.

  “As part of my investigation, I mean.”

  Reverend Parker entered the room and accepted a glass of lemonade from Wilhelmina, before settling down on the solitary chair before the windows.

  “I am delighted to see so many of you here this afternoon,” he said warmly, smiling on all those present. “And some new faces too, always a pleasure.”

  Reverend Parker took a sip of lemonade.

  “I believe a half dozen of our members are stood outside the town hall as we speak continuing the good fight. I know some of you have felt we are achieving little, but let me point out that these two young ladies have come here today as a result of our protest. That is no small thing,” Reverend Parker pointed to Annie and Clara. Clara felt a fraud in that instant, but said nothing. “We cannot expect to change the world in a day, in a month or even in a lifetime, but we sow the seeds that will continue to grow after we have left this mortal coil and have been greeted by our Saviour. On the day we say goodbye to this harsh world, then we shall be welcomed into Heaven knowing we did all we could in this life to stop the spread of lies and secularism.”

  Parker’s eyes sparkled intensely as he looked upon his little flock. He clasped his hands before him.

  “There is so much work to do as yet, of course, we are not about to consider our task complete. It shall never be complete as long as there are those who can look upon these abominations and call them science. I see the lies of the Devil at work in these men of learning, who are so blinded by their supposed education, that they are ignorant to the truth. We must not be cowed by their fancy words, their spouted facts. We are the truth, we know where the Anti-Christ works his wickedness, how he twists the minds of weak men, making them think they see evidence, proof, when all they see is another hoax. A lump of stone that is meaningless in the face of the Bible’s teachings,” Parker had become rather breathless in his rant, now he paused to catch his breath and calm himself. “But, my friends, we must never condemn those who have been tricked, for we are all weak, we are all fallible. The Devil could work his falsehoods upon you at any moment, let us not forget that! We are here to help those who have been fooled, not to decry them. We do so with our steadiness, with our firm hearts and beliefs. We stand before them unbreakable, so that they can see how they have been misguided. I know, my friends, that it will not be so very long before we are heard, before we are understood. People will begin to listen.”

  Parker stopped and the people in the room politely clapped his speech. Annie nervously put her own hands together, looking about her as if at any moment someone might pounce on her and declare she was not fit to be there. Clara clapped too, but without Annie’s apprehension. She had heard such speeches before, for many different causes. Politicians made an art of such waffle that said nothing but did rally the troops. If Reverend Parker really intended to change the academic world, he was going to have to do a lot more than just remain steadfast to his beliefs.

  Maybe he had already considered that, which was why he had started sending threats – if it was the League for Christians Against Evolution behind those threats.

  Reverend Parker basked in the glow of his followers’ applause, then he held his hands up to quiet them.

  “Now my friends, let us pray.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Wilhelmina offered around the scones after Reverend Parker had given a second lengthy speech, detailing the plans he had for the league and how they would conquer the Archaeopteryx threat. As far as Clara could tell, these plans mainly involved further protests outside the town hall, a greater distribution of leaflets (all of which the good reverend wrote) and writing letters to the local press. Reverend Parker looked exhausted from his ranting, there was a film of sweat upon his forehead. He was most certainly a passionate preacher – how far would that passion take him?

  After the speech Parker mingled with his flock. Clara hoped to speak to him, but for the moment he had been ensnared by a couple of elderly ladies intently discussing the contents of the letters they meant to write to the papers. Clara would prefer to catch the reverend when he was not so surrounded by his supporters. Some of her questions were unlikely to go down well.

  Wilhelmina passed her with a plate of scones.

  “Oh, have you had one, my dear?”

  Clara accepted the offering with a smile, though she had already eaten one. It provided her with the opportunity to speak to her hostess.

  “Is the Reverend Parker a local preacher?” Clara asked. “I don’t recall him.”

  “Oh no, the reverend does not have a parish. He founded the League for Christians Against Evolution and he travels wherever the cause takes him. Currently he is following the fossil exhibition and in each place it stops, so he calls together the local members of the league.”

  “Then this is a countrywide cause?” Clara asked, surprised as she had never heard of it before.

  “It is. We all subscribe to become full members and the reverend writes a regular newsletter to inform us of what is going on, what we must be aware of and how we can assist the good fight.”

  “That must consume a great deal of his time, not to mention the financial burden of such travelling,” Clara said, aiming for a sympathetic tone, though she was really rather cynical about it all and wondered how much Reverend Parker was pocketing from his loyal supporters.

  “We are always fundraising for the league,” Wilhelmina smiled proudly. “And the reverend never wants for a place to rest his head on his travels. There is always a league member ready to give him a bed.”

  Clara nodded as if she fully understood and was not wondering how big a scam this all was. She didn’t doubt Reverend Parker’s belief that he was right in his cause, but she could not help but wonder that he was making a living deluding these people into some great agenda to deny the truth that science had made plain. Clara did admit to herself, that her own lack of religious feeling probably made her harsher on the good reverend. She could not fathom how he could be so blind to reality.

  “Then, once the exhibition moves on, so will Reverend Parker?” Clara asked Wilhelmina.

  “Yes,” Wilhelmina gave a sad sigh. “It shall be most awful when he leaves. He has stirred up such a determination in us all, I fear without him that will be lost. But he is needed elsewhere, and we cannot deny others the benefit of his presence.”

  “And, aside from inspiring you all, he helps with the protests? Standing outside the town hall? Distributing leaflets?”

  “Reverend Parker does attend many of the protests, yes. But he must be careful. The police might arrest him.”

  “Whatever for?” Clara said, feigning astonishment.

  “There has been malicious talk. The police say the reverend has been making threats against the exhibition, they say he is causing a public nuisance. I think there is pressure being placed upon them by those behind the ex
hibition,” Wilhelmina’s eyes narrowed. “There is money at the heart of this exhibition and money is the root of all evil.”

  “I thought the exhibition was a public-spirited act?” Clara said. “To enable the wider world to see these finds.”

  “I’m afraid that is the lie that is being spread, but if you really looked into things you would know that a lot of money has been made already from this ‘tour’, with a lot more to come,” Wilhelmina snorted derisively. “You ask the reverend about it all. Don’t think this is about bringing science to the people, or some such rot. This is about people making a lot of money.”

  Wilhelmina was distracted by a woman waving at her and she excused herself from Clara’s presence. Clara felt confused. She had thought that the exhibition was, if anything, a means to lose money rather than make it. The sponsors and the Natural History Museum had put up the money for the venture and, as far as she had been aware, they were not expecting to recoup even half their costs. Could it be she was wrong?

  Clara glanced about for the Reverend Parker. He was talking to an elderly gentleman and they had moved to the edge of the room, a little way from the rest. It was the perfect time for Clara to strike.

  “Reverend Parker?” Clara politely interrupted the man. “Might I have a word?”

  “Ah, our newest initiate!” Reverend Parker flashed a smile at her. “Will you excuse us, Mr Bunn?”

  Mr Bunn removed himself and Clara was alone with the reverend.

  “How may I help you?” Reverend Parker asked her.

  “I have a lot of questions,” Clara said plainly.

  “No doubt, I shall endeavour to answer them all,” Parker was beaming with confidence, as if there was not a question in this world Clara could ask that would trouble him.

  “I understand the purposes of your cause,” Clara began, trying to be diplomatic. “I have read your leaflet.”

  “I am glad to hear it,” Parker sounded delighted.

  “I have no issue with public protest, as a means of having your voice heard,” Clara added. “However, I have heard disturbing rumours that vicious threats have been made against the exhibition in town and that troubles me.”

  “My dear, that is understandable. Let me assure you that none of those threats have come from the League for Christians Against Evolution, and certainly not from me. It would be against everything I stand for to take aggressive action and would harm us rather than aid us.”

  “But I hear the police believe you, or some of your supporters, are responsible?”

  Parker seemed a little put out by Clara’s question, she guessed it was not often he was interrogated. Mostly people fawned over him.

  “The police have been misled, that is all,” Parker shrugged. “I have explained to them that we protest in a perfectly legal fashion. I do not promote violence in any form. May I ask who has been saying such things about me?”

  Clara saw no reason to hide her source for the information.

  “The gentleman who spoke to me gave his name as Sam Gutenberg.”

  “Oh, the Golden Archaeopteryx Society,” Reverend Parker rolled his eyes. “They are almost as bad as those pushing this exhibition. Their argument hinges on the Archaeopteryx being an early bird. They still believe in evolution and thus are anathema to us.”

  “Mr Gutenberg takes the threats against the exhibition very seriously.”

  “As he should, as we all should. Anyone prepared to write about such violence cannot be ignored. Maybe it is just a malicious writer, or maybe it is someone who would do something if an opportunity presented. It is not any of my people, however,” Parker was beginning to look annoyed by this line of questioning and Clara knew she would get no more from him on the subject, so she changed direction.

  “Wilhelmina said something to me that I found most curious, she said I should ask you more about it.”

  Parker’s frown eased a fraction.

  “And what is that?”

  “She told me that the exhibition is a scheme to make money. I thought it was a philanthropic endeavour to bring exhibits at the Natural History Museum to a wider audience?”

  Parker chuckled.

  “That is what they want you to think!” He declared. “There is nothing philanthropic about all this. Do you know who the main sponsor for the exhibition is?”

  Clara admitted she did not.

  “The Earl of Rendham. He has his own private collection of fossils he wants to sell, including an Archaeopteryx. This exhibition is stirring up interest for him. As soon as it is over, he shall put his collection up for sale and the extra publicity will see the price soar. Not to mention the money he is already making in the sales of tickets and booklets. There have been fancy dinners held among the exhibits with the Archaeopteryx as the guest of honour, the cost of attending those was extortionate. Private viewings have been arranged for foreign royalty and other notables, all with suitable fees. The Earl has already recouped his costs and is now looking at making a tidy sum for his efforts,” Reverend Parker snorted with indignation. “The Devil strikes a man who is a fool to money easily. He plays on his greed and therefore the fellow is lost.”

  “Then, the Earl would be extremely upset if something were to happen to prevent the exhibition continuing?” Clara observed.

  “I imagine he would not be pleased if he had to lose the ticket sales, but then again the publicity this threat business is providing him with is all to the good of his main scheme,” Reverend Parker tilted his head to one side. “Why all this curiosity?”

  “I am merely getting my head around this all,” Clara explained. “I like to have all the information at my fingertips before I commit myself to anything. It is upsetting to hear that what I thought was a charitable endeavour is really a money-making ploy.”

  “You shouldn’t be surprised. There is very little real charity in the world.”

  “Surely that is a rather cynical statement from a man of God?” Clara replied, genuinely surprised.

  Reverend Parker’s eyes had taken on that familiar sparkle once again.

  “I see the world as it is, I am not blind. Man is hard and cruel, he must rise above his natural instincts to be anything better.”

  “I don’t suppose you ever heard of a man named John Morley?” Clara asked him.

  “The name doesn’t ring a bell,” Parker seemed to be telling the truth. “Who is he?”

  “A man hired to smash the glass display case containing the Archaeopteryx.”

  “Ah, so whoever has been making those threats has decided to act.”

  Clara did not disabuse the reverend of this idea.

  “John Morley was murdered in the course of his crime,” she said instead. “His killer is unknown.”

  Reverend Parker looked at her curiously.

  “You do have a remarkable knowledge of the exhibition,” he said, “and of all the people involved in it.”

  “I keep my ears open,” Clara smiled. “I like to know what is going on. Honestly, I have a cynical heart too.”

  Reverend Parker’s smile slowly returned.

  “I hope you have found our meeting enlightening.”

  Clara could not say she had, but she did not speak that aloud.

  “Thank you for your time Reverend Parker, I am glad to hear your cause is devoted to peaceful protest. I feared it might be otherwise.”

  “Violence begets violence,” Reverend Parker said solemnly. “If we want to be heard and taken seriously, we cannot go about causing harm. No one listens to people who punctuate their words with acts of rash violence.”

  “That is certainly wise,” Clara agreed.

  Clara wandered across the room and found Annie who had become embroiled in a deep conversation about lace-making. Clara gently tapped her shoulder and motioned they were leaving. Annie made her excuses and followed.

  “Well?” She asked as they headed towards the front door.

  “Reverend Parker is a very clever man. I don’t think he is stupid enough to
make threats against the exhibition. They would achieve little.”

  Annie was confused.

  “But I thought that foreign fellow said he had made the threats?”

  “Sam Gutenberg and his society suspected the threats came from the League for Christians Against Evolution, which would be easily done. After all, why look further than the organisation that is protesting against the exhibition for potential suspects?” Clara opened the front door and let Annie through first. “The obvious assumption was that the group who has been calling the exhibition the work of the Devil would be behind any threats.”

  “You know, I found some of their talk very…” Annie gave herself a moment to think of the right word, “persuasive.”

  “Annie,” Clara groaned.

  “Well, no, Clara, I mean why would God make animals that are not perfect from the start?”

  “Why do we plant seeds and watch them grow?” Clara replied. “The keen gardener takes pleasure not just from his fully-grown shrubs and flowers, but from the growing of them from scratch. He takes delight in the first sprout and every inch of growth. Perhaps God takes such delight in watching creatures develop and change? Look at humanity. We have changed dramatically from our earliest ancestors. We have learned so much, invented so many things, from trains to cars. We may not have evolved in a physical sense, but we have mentally evolved and adapted our world. We created vehicles so we could travel longer distances faster. Reverend Parker, himself, takes advantage of such transport to get across the country. Yet, those trains, those cars, even the carriages our grandparents rode in, were not the work of God. Should we deny them too because God did not create them at the dawn of time?”

  Annie was frowning and looking perplexed.

  “You know I am not religious, Annie,” Clara told her. “But it seems to me that if there is a God, he likes to see his creations grow and develop, just like a keen gardener, or a devoted father watching his children mature. Evolution is a part of that growth. I honestly do not believe God and evolution need to be viewed as exclusive of one another. I think evolution is all part of God’s plan.”