Read Online Late of This Parish by Marjorie Eccles - Free Book Online

anyone could show amazement when trouble happened, when years of resentment surfaced and the burden was not to be borne any longer: a momentary aberration when everything added up to just too much, a second’s temptation, a pillow over the face, all over in a minute. When the victim was alone and in a helpless condition, preferably subdued with sleeping pills, conveniently in bed.
    He sat down and thought yes, why here and not at home? Well, why not? A stroke or heart attack, which was presumably what the killer had hoped it would be taken for, could happen anywhere, and the obvious suspicion of a domestic murder would hopefully be averted. Then time and circumstance must have been propitious for the killer.
    The clock in the tower was exact to the minute. It had just tolled eight and been checked by Mayo’s pedantically-correct wristwatch when the door opened and an elegantly tall, silver-haired man in a long black cassock, came through the screen, genuflected towards the altar and then approached him.

CHAPTER 5
    â€˜Lionel Oliver,’ the clergyman introduced himself, advancing towards Mayo with a springing step and outstretched hand. ‘I am the Rector here.’ He announced the fact in a mellow and resonant voice pitched to reach the back of the church and holding more than a hint of a Celtic lilt, as though reading a first verse from Hymns Ancient and Modern. Lowering his tone, he added, ‘This is a very terrible thing. I shall of course be happy to help in any way I can.’
    â€˜Thank you. If you could spare me a moment to tell me what happened when you found Mr Willard, sir.’ Mayo indicated a pew and sat down with the Rector beside him.
    â€˜Certainly.’ Oliver complied and collected his thoughts for a moment. ‘He was already here when I arrived to say Evensong at six-twenty. He invariably joined me, when he was up to it.’
    â€˜Which door did you use?’
    â€˜Which door? Oh, I came in through the vestry, as I always do if I have to robe. I thought at first when I saw him that he was at prayer. His head was bowed but then when I got nearer, I discovered he was dead, poor fellow.’
    â€˜How did you know he was dead? Did you touch him?’
    â€˜I felt his pulse, certainly, though there was no need. I am not, as you’ll appreciate, unfamiliar with death.’ Oliver paused. ‘It wasn’t entirely unexpected, you know, he’d been ill for some time. I never dreamed, however ... Surely it cannot be true that he didn’t die naturally? As I said, he wasn’t a well man and there were no signs of violence that I could see.’ His glance strayed, with a sort of appalled fascination, to where the two medicos were bending over the wheelchair, their murmuring voices only just audible. He added, ‘The doctor didn’t say how he’d died.’
    One up to Dr Hameed.
    â€˜I’d rather not say anything yet either. We shan’t know for certain until after the post-mortem, but meantime there would appear to be reasonable grounds for treating it as a suspicious death. So it'll be necessary for the time being to lock up the church, at least until the Scenes of Crime people have finished.’ A dismayed look passed momentarily over the Reverend Mr Oliver’s face, but was quickly erased. ‘After that, we’ll let you have it back as soon as possible. Also, as soon as it’s practicable, I’d like you to check that there’s nothing missing from the church, sir. I see the altar silver’s still there. Presumably there’s more – communion plate and so on?’
    â€˜Yes, and some very valuable old books, but I can tell you now there’s nothing missing. When the doctor told me of her suspicions I immediately checked both the Rector’s safe and the churchwardens’. I could think of no other possible reason why the poor old fellow should have been killed, unless he’d interrupted a thief