A Death at the Church Read online

  ‘Do you think we could possibly have some coffee or tea?’ I ventured.

  The spy frowned. The shutters remained closed and the dim light of the lamps made my head ache. Without thinking I massaged the skin around my eyes and my temples. Fitzroy pulled his pocket watch from his waistcoat7 and flipped open the hunter. ‘I suppose we have been at this a while,’ he said. ‘I tend to lose track of time when I’m working, but I’m used to it. Why don’t you make us some soup? There’s stuff in the kitchen.’ He gave a slight smile. ‘Seems only fair, seeing as I made breakfast.’

  ‘Of course,’ I said standing. I now realised how sore my back was. At least in the kitchen I would be able to stretch my tired muscles. Making soup could not be that hard. Essentially, it was no more than foodstuffs in water. I went through to the kitchen. I raided the cupboards and found some basic supplies. I piled together carrots, potatoes, rice (to make it thicker), tomatoes (I knew many soups were red or brown), a herb (at least I was pretty sure it was a herb, or why else would it be in the kitchen?) and some cheese (for flavour). Then I turned my attention to how the stove might be lit. A small neat thing, the device was obviously very modern. I studied it looking for where I might stick a flame.

  ‘You don’t have a clue, do you?’ said Fitzroy’s voice from behind me. I started and dropped the lit taper in my hand. Fitzroy stamped on it. ‘I presume Mrs Deighton never asked you to do more than chop a few vegetables?’

  ‘Not even that. Although I did sometimes sit in the kitchen while she worked.’

  Fitzroy blinked at me. ‘I suppose that explains last night.’ He sighed. ‘I didn’t realise I would have to teach you everything. This is going to be a very long day.’

  I could feel myself blushing. I knew I was not without talents, but at that moment under his mocking stare my mind went completely blank.

  ‘Get an onion and chop it. You do know what an onion is, don’t you?’

  The resulting soup tasted good despite my help. He showed me a quick and easy method and followed it up by showing me how to toast bread. ‘I am not a total idiot,’ I said stung.

  ‘No, but you have been spoilt by the life you’ve led.’

  ‘As a maid?’

  ‘As someone who has rarely had to do anything for herself.’

  ‘I didn’t realise that basic cookery skills were needed as an agent of the Crown. Perhaps Merry would have been a better choice,’ I said.

  I regretted the words the minute they were out of my mouth. Before I could apologise Fitzroy retorted, ‘You forget yourself. We are working, Alice, and I am your superior officer. This is a military service. You will never speak to me again like that when we are engaged on business. Do I make myself clear?’ He did not raise his voice, but he spoke in a cold, clipped manner. His face bore no expression, but his eyes were dark and flat. For the first time in our acquaintance I felt afraid of him.

  ‘I am sorry. I spoke without thinking. It was unforgivable. After all you...’

  He raised a hand, cutting me off. ‘We will not speak of this again.’ I bowed my head. We sat at the kitchen table in silence. Then we went back through and began working on each other’s notes. Fitzroy neither spoke to me nor acknowledged me in any way for several hours. To be so completely ignored, I found surprisingly painful. Fitzroy had been the only person who believed in my innocence and now I felt completely alone. I had just enough pride to keep back my tears.

  ‘I’m still working on it, aren’t I?’

  I looked up to find him watching me.

  ‘There is no need to look so doleful simply because I set boundaries in our working relationship. If I had thought you were hopeless, I would hardly waste the rest of the day working on all this.’

  I had an impulse to leave my seat and rush to hug him, but I did not dare to imagine what response this would bring on when a few ill-judged words had cost me an afternoon of silence.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said.

  Fitzroy nodded. ‘Now, finish that last statement. Then we should eat and come back to this whole mess with fresh eyes.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said obediently.

  ‘I’ll cook,’ said the spy. ‘I’m too hungry to take the time to give you another lesson.’

  We were halfway through a silent meal when Fitzroy said, ‘Don’t sulk, Alice. We don’t have time for it. From what I’ve read we’re not opening up any promising leads.’

  I bit my tongue. I wanted to say I thought he was sulking as much as I was. I wanted to say I thought he was being very heavy-handed, but what I actually said was, ‘It isn’t my intention to sulk, but rather that I am unsure what to say –how to interact with you in my new position.’ I thought about adding ‘sir’ at the end but doubted I could do so without being sarcastic.

  Fitzroy ran his hand through his hair; a sure sign he was feeling exasperated. ‘I know. The relationship between handler and asset is much more informal. An asset, although we call on their duty to their country, is essentially doing us a favour. We have no power to stop them walking away. It is normal to act towards them with a degree of friendliness that you would not find between working agents.’

  ‘I see,’ I said.

  Fitzroy shook his head. ‘No, you don’t, and I regret circumstances do not allow a longer period of adjustment. If things progress as they should you will shortly be meeting other agents and you need to behave in an appropriate and professional manner. Not only because you are that rare commodity, a female spy – and some of my comrades abhor this idea and will be looking for fault – but because the people you will be meeting may all in their way be exceptional, but none of them have been acquired due to the pleasantness of their personality nor, in some cases, their evenness of temper. In short, agents of the Crown are dangerous people, playing a dangerous game, and you are shockingly naive.’

  ‘If I had not been facing a murder accusation would you have recruited me?’

  Fitzroy was silent for a while. ‘Honestly, I am unsure. I would have tested your aptitude for this work to a greater degree and then made my judgement. But circumstances did not allow that, and we have to deal with where we are and what we have.’

  ‘So, I am to treat you as my superior?’

  ‘I would hope I had won your respect over the time we have known each other. I expect respect, dedication, an application to the work that is intense and near all-consuming, and that, in critical situations, you obey me without question. At other times, but not in front of other people, you may respectfully question my decisions if you have sufficient reason to do so. Until your training is complete, I am your instructor and responsible for you.’

  At this point I would have previously pointed out that it would have helped matters if this has been explained to me at the start, but I could not think of a way of phrasing it that would not sound rude. I looked up to see the spy still watching me. ‘I am aware you are thinking I could have spelled this out earlier, but generally I find that learning occurs better through experience than lecture for most. Besides, you were in no emotional state to take it all in.’

  ‘You mean that we are no longer friends?’ I blurted. ‘That the previous way we interacted was merely an example of how to handle an asset?’

  Fitzroy frowned.

  ‘I am sorry,’ I said. ‘I –’

  He held up his hand to stop me. ‘Of course we are friends. You began as an asset, but for heaven’s sake, I made you my executor. I have trusted you with details of my background – I have trusted you more than anyone I have worked with in the past ten years.’ He leaned forward over the table, ‘But we cannot be friends, or act as friends, when we are working. There is no room for emotion. Do you understand?’

  I shook my head. ‘But I will try to.’

  ‘Good, now eat up and stop looking so goddamn forlorn. It’s putting me off my meal.’

  Afterwards we moved back through to the lounge with a pot of coffee. Fitzroy indicated we should sit in the chairs by the fire. He brought the notes we had been
working on across but placed them on the small table.

  ‘Summarise,’ he said.

  ‘Of the people I know personally, particularly of the ones who observed me in the antechamber, I believe only Hans has the stamina to have slipped away, killed Richard, and rejoined the others without being missed. Looking at the map and from my memory I traced the shortest discreet path and I do not believe Richenda could run that far without becoming obviously red in the face and sweating from exertion. I would have included Merry too, but if she is pregnant it seems less likely. Bertram certainly could not have managed it. So, while those four all had a degree of motive, some more than others, only Hans could have managed it successfully – I believe.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Fitzroy, sipping his coffee. ‘What are Hans’ motives?’

  ‘His potential motives include the way Richard has treated his wife, if he did actually expect to inherit Stapleford Hall when Richenda gave birth – as the will indicated – and he mentioned when he came to speak to me that he had had difficult business dealings with Richard. I remember, before we went north for the New Year to Richard’s castle, it was discussed between us that he needed to acquire more business. His German name was already beginning to affect his success. Richard offered to help.’

  Fitzroy nodded. ‘And he asked you to run away with him. Do you believe that was an attempt to divert attention from himself and stall the case?’

  I gazed into the fire. I did not trust myself to face him. ‘Not entirely. Before he married, Hans made it clear on more than one occasion that he would have preferred to marry me over Richenda if he had not been in need of a bride with a dowry.’

  ‘Good God, girl. Will you stop making these stupid men fall for you!’

  ‘I have actually thought about this and I do not believe it is my fault.’

  Fitzroy tapped me on the arm, so I had to face him. ‘This I have to hear.’

  ‘In general, the men who have “fallen” for me have been with me in a number of difficult situations when emotions, often fear for their lives, is heightened...’

  ‘And you survived. I will allow that would affect their judgement.’

  ‘Also,’ I said carefully, ‘I have frequently been the only attractive young woman present and I believe I am unusually articulate.’

  Fitzroy shrugged. ‘At least you are aware of why these things happen. Do not, for heaven’ s sake, go putting the cat among the pigeons in the service and setting agent against agent as they vie for your affections.’ He shivered. ‘It doesn’t bear thinking about.’

  I assumed he was joking but didn’t press it. ‘I do believe, regardless of his intentions, that Hans looks on me with fondness. His marriage to Richenda has its difficulties, and we are aware that he has a preference for small dark-haired mistresses rather than more... professional women.’

  ‘He doesn’t use prostitutes,’ said Fitzroy. ‘I understand that, but why did he think you would run away with him? Are you more involved with him than I have realised?’

  I clenched my coffee cup tightly. ‘Bertram is without question the love of my life, even if he no longer feels the same way. I will allow that Hans Muller is attractive, but I have no desire to be his mistress – or even if it had been possible, his wife.’

  ‘Do you think he is our killer?’

  ‘I think it is possible, but there is no hard evidence.’

  ‘Do you think he did it?’

  ‘I think it would be unlike him to stab someone. He prides himself on being even-tempered and diplomatic. He is charming and I have never felt that he is concealing a hot temper.’

  ‘No, he’s more coldly determined to get his way. He allows logic to rule him,’ said Fitzroy. ‘I actually don’t mind him. But you’re right, I cannot see him stabbing Richard in a fit of passion, and in such a way that drew an enormous an amount of attention.’

  ‘I agree. He would plan a murder carefully,’ I said. ‘So, you believe the stabbing was an impulsive act?’

  Fitzroy nodded. ‘They usually are. And rarely by women – though some, such as yourself, would not be beyond stabbing someone if they deserved it. That’s a compliment, by the way.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘In summary, Hans could have done it, but it is very unlikely that he did.’

  Fitzroy nodded again. ‘Always useful to have a back-up culprit who’s believable if you need to get the real culprit off.’

  ‘Are we trying to do that?’ I asked.

  ‘Not this time. We agree this is an impulsive, unplanned crime by someone who had a serious grudge against Richard...’

  ‘Someone who perhaps had no other opportunity to get close to him...’

  ‘Because they were a servant, or were normally living some distance from him,’ finished Fitzroy for me. ‘Your mother could have done it. She has a coiled viper of anger inside her. Fortunately, her bishop appears to be able to keep her in line.’

  ‘You’re suggesting my mother...’

  ‘No,’ said Fitzroy, ‘I’m giving an example of the personality type who might have done this. Someone who had suffered for a long time at Richard’s hand and...’

  ‘Snapped,’ I said.

  ‘Exactly,’ said Fitzroy. ‘We, at the very least, have an idea of the sort of person who committed this crime.’

  ‘And we also know it is someone Richard was either once fond of – if that’s possible –’

  ‘Or he didn’t regard as being very important,’ said Fitzroy.

  ‘Because he would rather I took the blame.’ ‘You must have got deeply under his skin,’ said spy with a smile. ‘Well done. Useful skill.’ ‘I didn’t do it deliberately.’

  Fitzroy shrugged. ‘Oh well, you can always reflect on how you did it later and learn from it.’

  Or how you do it, I thought silently.

  ‘What conclusion did you come to with the guests?’

  ‘It is likely the absence of someone from the front pews would have been noticed. None of the witness statements mention this. Neither was anyone observed with blood on their clothing.’

  ‘That is a point that is bothering me,’ said Fitzroy. ‘But continue.’

  ‘Then it starts getting more difficult. Everyone present knew one or two people other than Bertram, myself, and our families, but most of them did not know each other. There also seems to have been some confusion with the ushers and the seating, so that people were milling around.’

  ‘Good, you noticed that. Only three people referred to that – and then obliquely.’

  ‘You think it might have been orchestrated?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s hard to see how it might have been done if this was an impulsive act, but I may be missing something. Wedding etiquette is not my forte. You’ve discounted Joe, of course?’

  ‘My brother?’ An icy wave slid down my spine.

  ‘Don’t worry. He is neither strong enough or tall enough to have inflicted the damage. Although I bet he could have run fast and unnoticed, if he wanted to. Plus, if he had any idea how Richard treated you, he might have decided to stab him on impulse. I doubt he would have been motivated by more than anger – certainly, he wouldn’t have thought of the consequences. Don’t look so worried. I told you he didn’t do it.’

  I let out the breath I hadn’t realised I had been holding. ‘It does require a lack of emotion, this work.’

  ‘I did tell you. Everything and everyone must be considered in matters of intelligence, despite one’s personal bias. But it’s been a long day, let me cut matters short. Neither of us have alighted on any one person in particular who wished Richard desperately ill. Many of the guests may have disliked him – and indeed we both identified several we know did – but I suspect that whatever drove someone to this desperate act was not only a recent turn of events, but something they were desperate to keep silent.’

  ‘You mean they were in some way complicit?’ I said.

  ‘Possibly. Generally respectable people, like those at your wedding, will go to the polic
e with a grievance. If they haven’t...’

  ‘There has to be a reason,’ I finished. ‘But could it not be that they thought they would not be believed over a powerful and influential man like Richard?’

  ‘Also possible,’ said Fitzroy. ‘Here,’ he handed me over a piece of paper. On it he had written

  Culprit

  Desperate Reasonably strong

  At least five foot five by angle of entry Impulsive, passionate crime

  Culprit’s motive is either incriminating or has to be kept secret

  Does Culprit usually have no access to Richard – due to station or location

  Must be able to move quickly to not to be spotted

  Why were they not observed to have blood on their clothing?

  Culprit considered unimportant by Richard who would rather blame Euphemia

  Unlikely to have been direct family, unless observed leaving the pews

  He had scribbled at the bottom, Problem with ushering? Caused by culprit? ‘When did you write this?’ I asked.

  ‘Just before I came to see you,’ said Fitzroy. ‘After I’d had a quick squint at the corpse.’

  ‘I expect it took you – what, half an hour? To formulate this?’

  ‘More like ten minutes,’ said Fitzroy. ‘I’ve been doing this a long time.’

  ‘But we spent all day...’

  ‘This is the boring bit about intelligence work,’ said Fitzroy. ‘I might have been able to think of this in the moment, but I needed to verify my thoughts. That is what today was about.’

  ‘I think I see,’ I said. ‘It’s very frustrating. Of course, we are assuming everyone is telling the truth and that no one is concealing matters for the sake of another.’

  ‘Ugh, don’t. If we had found something of note we would have re-interviewed the subject. I did cross-reference what was said, didn’t you? And I found no inconsistencies. The last thing we need is some kind of conspiracy,’ said Fitzroy. ‘Fortunately, I thought of that before we started, so we don’t have to go over it all again. A person’s word is generally worth less than the air used to form it.’