A door could be heard opening and a man appeared from the left of the altar. He wore jeans with a navy knitted jumper, his white dog collar showing at the neck.
‘I thought I heard voices,’ the man said as he came down the two steps.
‘Reverend Timothy Daniels?’ Meadows asked.
‘Yes, but you can call me Vicar Daniels, Vicar Tim, or just vicar, whichever you prefer. How can I help you?’ He smiled.
Despite having a strong square jaw, Vicar Daniel’s face had a kindness about it and his soft blue eyes crinkled at the corners. Meadows imagined that he was easy to talk to and someone you could trust with your troubles.
‘I’m DI Meadows and this is DC Edris. I hope we’re not disturbing you.’
‘Not at all. I take it this is about Stacey Evans.’
‘Yes.’
‘Poor child.’ Vicar Daniels shook his head sadly. ‘My heart goes out to her family. I was just preparing for the vigil this evening. The headmistress has asked me to speak. I hope to be able to give them some words of comfort.’
‘We won’t keep you long. Do you know the family well?’ Meadows asked.
‘It’s a small village so you get to know everyone fairly well. I christened both Stacey and Becca. The family doesn’t come to church on a regular basis. Easter, Harvest Thanksgiving, and Christmas. Like other families here they work the land and that’s a seven-day-a-week job.’
‘Have you been here long?’ Edris asked.
‘I took over the parish some twenty years ago. I was a young man then and terrified of the responsibility, but they welcomed me with open arms. Please take a seat.’ He indicated the pews.
Meadows moved some hymn books and sat down.
‘Do many attend the services?’ Edris asked as he took a seat next to Meadows and turned to face Vicar Daniels who sat on the opposite pew.
‘On a good day about thirty-five. More on special occasions. Then there is the elderly and sick to visit so enough to keep me busy. My responsibility is to the whole of the parish here, not just the congregation.’
‘So you knew Erin Kelly,’ Meadows said.
‘Yes, poor soul. Another life taken too soon. Her mother, Sarah, is one of my parishioners, Erin is buried here.’
‘I thought that wasn’t allowed,’ Edris said.
‘You mean because she took her own life? Thankfully that’s a very archaic view. Although it wasn’t that long ago that the church lifted its ban on a full Christian funeral. May I ask why you are interested in Erin?’
‘It’s just a line of enquiry we’re following. We’ve been told that Stacey didn’t get on with Erin and there are some who blamed her for Erin’s death.’
‘Well, that’s putting it kindly,’ Vicar Daniels said. ‘I do not wish to speak ill of the dead, but Erin suffered greatly from the daily taunts. She was always a delicate child, she had a sort of fragility about her. She also was very kind-hearted. She attended Sunday school and stayed to take her confirmation vows. I dearly wish there was something I could have done to help her.’
Meadows saw the pain in Vicar Daniels’ eyes. He understood all too well how it felt not to be able to help someone, not to be able to prevent a death.
‘Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt Stacey?’ Meadows asked.
‘It’s not like the catholic church. I don’t take confessionals,’ Vicar Daniels said with a smile. ‘It’s also not my place to judge people, point fingers. I’m sorry if I’m not being very helpful.’ He looked around the church. ‘My calling is to help the souls of this parish.’
‘I appreciate your position,’ Meadows said. ‘I’m grateful for you answering our questions. I understand that Donald Hobson was good friends with Erin.’
‘Donald’ – Vicar Daniels raised his eyebrows – ‘yes, he was. He’s also one of my flock. A regular attendee and involves himself in all church activities.’
‘We’ve spoken to Donald and he says he was at the vicarage on Tuesday night.’
‘Yes, that’s right. We had a film night.’
‘The Shack?’ Edris asked.
‘Yes, have you seen it?’
‘No.’
‘Wonderful film. It did cause a bit of controversy when it first came out, particularly with those who hold a more extreme view of Christianity.’
‘What time did Donald leave?’ Edris asked.
‘About quarter to eleven. I remember thinking it was late for a school night. It wasn’t intended but we were late starting. The time we had a cup of tea and a chat.’
‘What time did Donald arrive?’
‘Around eight. He helped me move around the furniture so we would all have room to sit. He’s a good kid.’
‘I’m sure he is, but we have to follow up or we wouldn’t be doing our job,’ Meadows said. ‘Who else was at the film evening?’
‘Erm, Sarah Kelly, Gemma Lewis, and Tomos John.’ Vicar Daniels counted the names on his fingers. ‘Oh yes and Mary Beynon, six of us.’
‘Mary Beynon?’
‘Yes, as you are probably aware she lost her granddaughter, and her daughter is in prison. It’s been a very difficult time for her.’
‘I can imagine,’ Meadows said. ‘One last question. What can you tell us about William James?’
‘Bill? He attends church regularly. Likes a good theological discussion. He’s very well read. He also has strong political views. Not always the best mix. He can come across as narrow-minded and he’s not very sociable; partly I think it’s to do with a childhood trauma. His older brother was killed in a farming accident and Bill witnessed it. He was never quite the same after that or so I’ve been told. His father died and his mother is in a nursing home. He was left to run the farm, but he had no interest. Both the house and farm are in a bit of a state. Bill doesn’t care for worldly goods, as long as he has books to read and enough food to live on he’s content.’
‘Well, thank you for your time.’ Meadows stood and knocked a hymn book from the pew. He bent down to pick it up and a piece of paper fluttered out. As he replaced the paper, he noticed Eph6:12 written on the top.
‘Is this a Bible reference?’ Meadows handed it to Vicar Daniels.
‘Yes, Ephesians was our text word on Sunday. Some of the members like to write down the verse to look up and read the whole chapter later.’
Meadows opened the hymn book and looked at the inside cover. ‘There is no name.’
‘The hymn books are the property of the church so anyone can use them.’
‘Who was sitting here on Sunday?’
‘Erm I’m not sure. Some of the older members take the front pews so it’s not so far to walk to communion. Mary Beynon and Elsie Jones were there.’ Vicar Daniels frowned in concentration. ‘I can ask them who else was sat in the front. I tend to look at the congregation as a whole, not at individual people when I serve.’
‘If I said REV17 what would come to mind?’
‘The Book of Revelation, chapter 17.’
‘And what’s that about?’
‘I’m afraid I don’t know the Bible off by heart,’ Vicar Daniels said. ‘I can check for you if you like.’
‘Please,’ Meadows said.
Vicar Daniels stepped up to the pulpit, picked up a bible and flicked through the pages. ‘Ah, here we are. The whore of Babylon.’
‘The what?’ Edris said.
‘I take it you’re not a church goer,’ Vicar Daniels said.
‘I went to Sunday school but there was certainly no mention of a whore,’ Edris said.
‘I suppose there wouldn’t be.’ Vicar Daniels chuckled as he came down from the pulpit carrying the bible. ‘The Book of Revelation is quite difficult to interpret. The whore of Babylon, or harlot, is symbolic, a female figure, or a place among some theories.’ He looked down at the bible and scanned the words. ‘It talks of her judgement and her fornication with the kings on earth.’
Edris’ lips twitched. ‘So, she’s being judged for putting it about a bit.’
Vicar Daniels laughed. ‘That wouldn’t be my interpretation. Like I said, Revelation is symbolic, it’s not talking about some loose woman.’
‘But it could be taken literally by some?’ Meadows asked.
‘Yes, I suppose so if you took the text word out of context. I’m a little curious,’ Vicar Daniels said.
‘Oh it’s just something that came up,’ Meadows said.
‘Meaning you can’t tell me. I understand.’
‘You’ve been a great help, thank you. We’ll leave you to get back to your preparations.’
‘You’re welcome. If there is anything else I can help you with you’ll usually find me here or at the vicarage.’ Vicar Daniels smiled then turned and walked back towards the altar.
Steel-grey clouds had formed in the sky while they had been inside, casting a dark shadow over the church.
‘Do you really think that the writing on Stacey is a Bible verse?’ Edris asked.
Meadows stopped at the lychgate and looked back at the church. ‘Yes, it fits and it’s the best theory we have so far. Stacey was seeing an older man, possibly a married one, while seeing Jack at the same time. Erin by contrast was a quiet girl and attended church regularly. So if this is about Erin we’re looking at someone who thinks that Stacey was sinful and had to be punished. Think of the way the killer left her body. He made no attempt to hide her. The writing has to be a statement, not only meaningful to the killer but also to those who would find her.’
‘Makes sense, I suppose. The vicar said Sarah Kelly and Bible Bill are regular attendees of the church. Both would know the Bible reference. Sarah Kelly could have put Bill up to it,’ Edris said. ‘She was reluctant to give his name. He’s got motive and he knows the Bible. He could be easily persuaded to take revenge for his daughter.’
‘I agree, when we’re on our way you can give Paskin a call, get her to run a check on Bible Bill.’
Meadows drove to the edge of the village, past Stacey’s farm and took the next turning. Grass spouted up the centre of the track with overgrown hedges each side which scraped against the side of the car.
The car rocked as the wheels dipped in and out of potholes.
‘This isn’t doing your suspension much good,’ Edris said.
‘If I’d known it was this bad I would have parked and walked.’
They reached the yard and the first thing they saw was ‘Jesus loves you’ painted on the side of the house. Meadows stopped the car, got out and looked around. Old farm machinery stood covered in weeds and rusting. Chickens roamed freely almost filling the yard, they pecked at the ground while keeping their beady eyes on the strangers.
‘Ew.’ Edris picked his way through the muck and came to stand next to Meadows.
‘I don’t like the look of this,’ Edris said looking at the lettering on the wall. ‘What if he has a gun? Most farmers do.’
‘Can’t see him getting a firearms licence.’
‘Yeah but his father could have kept guns,’ Edris said.
‘The victim wasn’t shot. It sounds like he’s more likely to hit you with a bible,’ Meadows said with a grin. ‘We’ll just take things gently. Paskin’s check came back clear so I don’t think you have to worry.’
They walked to the front of the house where brambles snaked their way through the hedge and snagged on their clothes.
‘Doesn’t looked lived in,’ Edris said.
‘Probably only uses the back door,’ Meadows said as he knocked.
The door opened and a man looked them up and down. He was dressed in orange overalls. The top three poppers were unclasped and revealed a hairy chest. He had wild dark hair peppered with grey and brown serious eyes. There was no hint of a smile.
‘What do you want?’ the man said.
‘William James?’
‘Yeah, but I go by Bill.’
‘I’m DI Meadows and this is DC Edris. We’re investigating the murder of Stacey Evans.’
‘Nothing to do with me,’ Bill said.
‘We are talking to anyone who may have seen Stacey on Tuesday and given that you are the Evanses’ neighbour we thought you’d be able to help.’
‘Didn’t see her,’ Bill said.
‘Right, is it okay if we ask you a couple of questions?’
‘That’s how it starts, innit?’
‘How what starts?’ Edris asked.
‘You say you want to ask questions, next thing you arrest me and take away my freedom.’
‘We just want to have a chat,’ Meadows said. ‘Perhaps we could come in for a minute.’
Bill seemed to be wrestling with the decision.
‘We won’t keep you long,’ Edris said. ‘If you’d rather talk here that’s fine but it’s a bit cold and it looks like it’s going to rain.’
‘A storm is coming.’
‘You could be right,’ Meadows said.
‘I am right. I can smell it in the air. Alright, you better come in then.’
He led them down a gloomy passage which smelled of mould and decay. Meadows noticed the wallpaper was peeling at the corners. The staircase was directly in front of them and as Bill veered through a door on the left a ragged looking cockerel came into view perched on the third step. Meadows came to a stop and Edris who had been looking at a strange painting bumped into him.
Bill turned and followed the detective’s gaze. ‘That’s Frank, I keep it inside as the ladies have been having a go at him. He’s just become a father again, come and see.’
Meadows followed Bill into the sitting room and tried not to show his surprise. The walls had been stripped down to the stone. There was no carpet, and the flagstones were covered in dirt, feathers, and dog-ends. The only furniture was an armchair which looked on the point of collapse. Books were piled high in the corner of the room and mould was creeping across the ceiling. A chicken was roaming around, and chirping was coming from a box in the corner.
‘That’s Greta.’ Bill pointed at the chicken then bent over the box and pulled out a fluffy yellow chick. ‘There’s twelve of them.’ Bill stretched his hand towards Meadows. ‘Would you like to hold it?’
‘He’s a vegetarian,’ Edris said.
Bill frowned and snatched his hand back. ‘It’s not for eating. I don’t kill any of my chickens, I have named everyone and I can tell them apart. I only sell the eggs.’
‘I’m happy to hear that,’ Meadows said with a smile.
‘It breaks my heart to see the way God’s creatures are treated. I don’t mind the dairy farms. Taking the milk is fine, but the sheep and pigs.’ Bill shook his head. ‘Sometimes I let them out before slaughter day. It gives them a chance but don’t go telling tales on me.’ He gently laid the chick down in the box. ‘Do you want a cup of tea?’
Meadows didn’t want to think about what the kitchen looked like. ‘No, thank you.’
‘Okay, do you mind if I get myself a drink?’
‘No, you go ahead,’ Meadows said.
Edris walked over to the box and peered at the chicks. ‘They’re kinda cute.’
The sound of the back door slamming made them both jump.
‘Shit,’ Edris said.
Meadows dashed through the kitchen and out the back door. Bill could be seen sprinting across the field. He took chase with Edris close behind. Parts of the field were sodden and mud flew from his shoes splattering his trousers. A couple of times he lost his footing and slid in the mud. Up ahead Bill had reached the gate and scrambled over. Meadows picked up speed and easily vaulted the gate. He heard a grunt behind him, turned and saw Edris had fallen face down in the mud.
‘I’m okay,’ Edris panted.
Meadows took off and could see that Bill was slowing.
‘There is no point in running,’ Meadows shouted.
It wasn’t until he had cleared the second gate that Meadows gained enough on Bill to tackle him to the ground.
‘Give it up, man,’ Meadows said as Bill thrashed around on the ground. He managed to cuff h
im and haul him to his feet.
‘Justice will never be done now,’ Bill said.
Chapter Ten
Meadows sat in the interview room opposite Bill and the duty solicitor. He didn’t know which of them looked worse: Bill, Edris, or himself. They were each caked in mud and Edris was fidgeting next to him, clearly uncomfortable about not looking his usual groomed self. They had got the worst of the mud off in the station toilets but couldn’t do much about their clothes or Blackwell’s laughter. Bill sat quietly with his hands folded as if he was praying.
‘Why did you run from us, Bill?’ Meadows asked.
‘I knew this would happen, that you would arrest me.’
‘Because of what you did to Stacey?’
‘I didn’t do anything to Stacey.’
‘Then why run? We only wanted to ask you a couple of questions. You must see how it looks from our perspective.’
‘I see alright. You decide someone is guilty, choose an easy target and once you’ve got them inside you don’t let them go. You’re part of the establishment and it’s pointless trying to fight it. Just like the early Christians, they were persecuted. I ran because it was my only chance of escape.’
‘You said when you were arrested that justice wouldn’t be done. What did you mean by that?’
‘Exactly what I just said. You fit me up for killing this girl and the killer goes free. You have to make yourselves look good. Someone has to pay for what happened. It doesn’t matter if it’s an innocent man. Look at what’s happened in the past. How many convictions have been overturned? Those men have lost years of their lives, and what about those on death row?’
This isn’t getting us anywhere, Meadows thought. ‘I can assure you, I’m only interested in the truth. The longer you take to answer our questions the longer you will be kept here.’
‘You can’t keep me here.’ Bill’s face creased with worry. ‘Who’s going to look after my chickens? They can’t be left alone.’
‘Your solicitor can make arrangements for you.’
Bill turned to the solicitor. ‘You’re going to feed them and put them to bed?’
‘No, but I can make a call for you,’ the solicitor said.
‘There is no one to call.’ Bill looked at Meadows. ‘I’m not saying another word until you guarantee that my chickens will be safe.’
A Knot of Sparrows Page 6
