This time the police arrived in Little Barrington in a much more discreet manner. The black Wolseley arrived without ringing its bell and slid round the back of Doctor Russell’s surgery to park. Inspector Grafton had a sergeant with him to take notes and drive the car.
‘We can’t keep meeting like this, Miss Duncan,’ he said in greeting. ‘Besides, I’m using up all this month’s petrol allowance driving back and forth to this village. What is it now? I’m told it’s urgent.’
They were soon all sitting in the doctor’s consulting room. Maggie, the doctor’s nurse-cum-receptionist was sending patients away, telling them that the doctor had another emergency and would be free in an hour’s time for evening surgery. She supplied the gathering in the consulting room with tea and biscuits and took herself off to do some filing.
‘Well, Miss Duncan?’
‘I’m sorry to bring you out here again, Inspector, but I think I may be getting somewhere with the murders.’
Inspector Grafton raised a cynical eyebrow. ‘You think you’ve solved the case, do you? Have you managed to connect the two murders as you suggested?’
‘Yes, I think I have.’
Over the next fifteen minutes Eve related to the policeman everything she had found out about Douglas Groome, his wife and the conclusions she had come to. He received the information with good grace considering that Eve was stealing his thunder.
‘That’s all well and good, Miss Duncan, and quite credible as far as it goes, but you have absolutely no proof for any of it. None of this speculation would stand up in a court of law. How could a jury find the man guilty on such flimsy evidence? You’re suggesting that the Reverend Groome murdered his wife because she couldn’t have children. Or had already had a child and hadn’t told him, or was having an affair with another man? Which was it? Or do you suppose it’s all three? I can see he may have had some sort of a motive to kill the girl, but where’s the evidence? And why, Miss Duncan, did he stab Miss Vera Gossard and try to kill young Stanley?’
Eve was trying hard to suppress her impatience and restrained the urge to shout at the Inspector. It all seemed so obvious to her.
‘I know there’s nothing concrete to prove he did any of it,’ she said in as calm a voice as she could muster, ‘except that I think Stan will be able to tell us something when he comes round. I think the vicar killed Vera because she knew something. When we were together in the pub I’m sure she wanted to tell us that someone from the village was missing; Amy Groome. Vera hadn’t taken his word for it that she’d died in an air raid and when the bones were found her suspicions were confirmed. She was sure that they must be Amy’s remains. Douglas Groome was there in the pub; he knew that she suspected something. I don’t know why the vicar tried to kill Stan, but I think Stan may have seen or heard something the day before. He came home in a state and was very worried all evening. I thought it was something trivial, like school, so I didn’t take much notice. But the next day he was poisoned.’
‘Hmm,’ the inspector mused. ‘So what do you propose we do about it?’
‘So far as I can see, we’ll have to get a confession out of the man. I hope I can get him to talk to me. You see, I’m not police, and he doesn’t know me very well. I’ll have to think of an excuse to talk to him – perhaps I’ll just confront him with it – and maybe he’ll own up...’
The inspector looked worried. ‘That’s all a bit vague, my dear. How do you propose to do it? It might work, but it very likely might not. It all depends on how strong a character this Reverend Groome is and whether he feels any remorse over what he’s done. After all, if he did kill Vera Gossard, it was only yesterday and it may be weighing heavy on his conscience, in which case he may be glad to get a confession off his chest. As a man of God his moral code should be impeccable, but it looks as if that may not be the case. With any luck he may be in a state of turmoil, torn apart by guilt and fear, and ready to confess to everything. This needs to be handled with care. I am inclined to agree that you, Miss Duncan, may be a better person to administer the blow than the police.’
‘Oh, thank you, sir.’
‘Yes, but remember, if he has done murder, it could be dangerous for you.’
‘I thought you could be nearby when I talk to him. After all, I need witnesses to his confession,’ Eve replied with blithe confidence.
‘Of course, we’ll do what we can. Yes,’ the inspector had come to a decision, ‘I think that’s the best way to go about it. You need to beard him in his lair, the vicarage or the church, and get him to talk.’
The group spent the rest of their time together planning what to do next. Eve was anxious to speak to Stan before she did anything, so they agreed that she’d challenge Douglas Groome on the following afternoon after she’d been to the hospital. He wasn’t going anywhere as there was no reason he should think they were on to him.
By then the doctor was impatient to proceed with his delayed surgery. ‘You’ll have to go now, I’m afraid. My patients will be going elsewhere,’ he said, ‘I do have a living to earn.’
‘Perhaps they’ll find they’re miraculously cured,’ suggested Inspector Grafton as he stepped into his car. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, Miss Duncan. In the meantime, be careful, the man may already think someone suspects him or Stanley has said something. If you’re right, he’s clearly a dangerous character, however pious he may seem.’
*
As it happened Eve didn’t have to endure the slow journey to the hospital the following morning. An hour after the remaining children had left for school, the doctor’s car arrived with Stan wrapped in a blanket on the back seat.
‘The hospital don’t want him any more,’ the doctor joked as he carried Stan into the house. ‘He’s too much trouble.’
He dumped the little boy on the sofa and stood back. Stan snuggled down into the cushions, prepared to make the most of his convalescence.
‘I ain’t no trouble,’ he said with a mock scowl on his face. ‘I was very good.’
‘I’m sure you were, Stan,’ said Grace, waiting to spoil him. ‘Thank you, doctor, for bringing him home. The others will be thrilled to see him. Should I put him in his bed, do you think?’
‘Nooo!’ protested Stan, ‘I’ve been in bed for days. I’m better now.’
‘I think he’s right, Grace. No need for that. In fact I think a bit of fresh air will do him good. Perhaps he could sit in the garden for a while.’
Eve came forward and sat on the edge of the sofa by Stan’s feet.
‘Shall we go and sit outside? There’s a few things I want to talk to you about.’
‘’Course, Miss,’ said the boy, fondling Jake’s ears. The dog had leapt on to his lap and was making a fuss of him. ‘Can we take Jake out too?’
Grace and the doctor were on their way to the front door and he was giving her advice for Stan’s care. Eve stood the boy on his feet. He seemed a little wobbly at first, but refused any further help as she gathered up the blanket and a cushion and they went out into the garden. The sky was blue with a few fluffy clouds and it looked likely to remain fine for a while. They sat on a wooden bench near the old apple tree.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind me asking you some questions, Stan?’ Eve said.
‘No, Miss. What about?’
‘Well, on Monday, after school, what happened that frightened you so much?’
Stan shuddered and thought hard for a moment. ‘Teacher kept me in ‘cos she said I hadn’t been consingtrating and she wanted to go over the reading with me again. I was cross ‘cos I wanted to come home with the others. When she let me go I started to run up the hill.’
‘Yes, and what happened then?’
‘Well, I was passing the wall by the church. You know, miss, where that big tree hangs over the pavement. And I heard a man shouting. I couldn’t see him, but he sounded really cross. I heard a lady’s voice too, and I knew who that was because she’s been here, to the house. She’s got a high, girly-sounding voice like Daisy, even though she’s a grownup. It was one of them twin ladies.’
‘What was the man saying, Stan?’
‘He said he was going to kill her if she said anything to anyone. It sounded as if he hit her then, or shook her. I don’t know what she wasn’t to say, though, because the lady started crying. She sounded very scared and the man kept on and on about what he’d do to her. I tried to see over the wall, but I’m too little and I fell over and yelled ‘cos I hurt my hand on the stones. And the man must have heard me because he swore and came to the wall and looked over and saw me. I couldn’t see who it was, but I got up and ran like billy-oh up the hill, to leg it home as quick as I could.’
‘You have no idea who the man was, Stan?’
‘No, I didn’t see his face proper, the sun was behind him and hurt me eyes. He were just a black shape.’
Eve paused her questioning and went into the house to get some milk for Stan and tea for herself.
‘Don’t come out for a minute, Grace,’ she told her sister. ‘I’ve got him talking and he’s perfectly fine.’
She went out after adding a few biscuits to the tray and sat down on the bench again.
‘The next day, Stan, after school, you went into the churchyard, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, was that all right? No-one said we wasn’t to go into the churchyard.’ The boy sounded defensive.
‘No, love, that was perfectly all right. But someone gave you something, didn’t they? Do you remember who that was?’ Eve held her breath as she waited for his answer.
‘That tall man all dressed in black saw me and gave me this little box with all raspberries in it. I said thank you, like you said I should, and he went off into the church.’
‘Had you seen the man before?’
‘It was that boring bloke what talked to us in church that time when I nearly fell asleep. All in black like I said, with that funny collar on, but not the white floaty thing he was wearing before.’
No, Douglas Groome wouldn’t be wearing his surplice to walk around the graveyard in the afternoon, thought Eve.
‘Thank you very much, Stan, you’ve been very helpful. I’m going in now, but would you like me to bring out a book for you?’
Stanley looked at her in astonishment. ‘Wasn’t you listening, Aunty Eve? I’m useless at reading, teacher says so.’
As Eve walked back into the house she chuckled. There was clearly little wrong with young Stanley that a day or two’s rest wouldn’t put right. Then she realised what he had called her – Aunty Eve – what a result!
Now all her suspicions had been confirmed Eve desperately wanted to confront the vicar with his crimes. Inspector Grafton had said he’d come to the village with a couple of constables after lunch, so she would have to contain her impatience until then.
*
It was half past two before the police car drew up outside the house. Eve told the inspector what Stan had related and how it confirmed the vicar’s involvement in Vera’s murder and Stan’s poisoning.
‘Yes, I can see that, Miss Duncan. But the only way we can prove it is with a confession, so now we’re going to have to tread very carefully.’
‘Actually I have thought of something, Inspector. After he killed Vera his cassock must have been covered in blood. When Emily met him on the hill he must have been in a hurry to get home to get changed. The blood wouldn’t have been visible on the black, but I’m sure there’ll still be traces. Let’s hope he hasn’t had a chance to throw the thing away.’
‘Good thinking. We’ll search the vicarage later and if we find the cassock at last we’ll have some concrete evidence.’
They were sitting in Grace’s kitchen and started to work out an outline plan of action for Eve to trap Douglas Groome into a confession. Two constables and a sergeant had accompanied the inspector. That should be enough manpower to capture the vicar if he tried to make a run for it.
‘Start with the vicarage, Miss Duncan. If he’s not there he’ll probably be in the church. Don’t worry, we’ll be nearby, but out of sight.’
Eve didn’t want to sit around talking about it any longer. She jumped to her feet. ‘Come on then. Let’s get on with it. I’ll go first, I just hope he doesn’t notice you and your men going to the house.’
‘No, we’ll walk round the back way, down the lane. It’ll take us a bit longer than your journey, but we’ll catch up.’
Eve had no wish to dawdle in her walk down the hill as she wanted to confront the vicar before she lost her nerve. At present, fury at the way the man had behaved was firing her up. He’d treated his victims with contempt, as if they had no importance at all; as if they were mere dross. The faster Eve flew towards her goal the more her temper flared and by the time she arrived at the vicarage she was in a mighty rage. So it was a bit of an anti-climax when her heavy knocking on the front door met with no response. She waited for a few moments before knocking again but could hear no footsteps within. Eve turned on the doorstep and looked around, but there was no sign of the vicar or, fortunately, of the police that were supposed to be watching. She assumed they were lurking somewhere behind the rhododendron bushes.
The church then. A path from the vicarage led into the churchyard and she weaved through the gravestones to the arched doorway whose heavy oak doors stood open. The sunlight outside was intense, so walking into the church was like being struck with blindness. It took a few seconds for the thin light penetrating the stained glass windows to allow Eve to see into the nave. The heavy, sweet odour of incense filled the air. That was new, she didn’t remember there being incense at matins that Sunday. The church appeared to be empty until she walked further down the aisle and finally spotted the vicar.
Douglas Groome lay prone on the stone floor of the church in front of the altar in the classic posture of supplication. His body lay flat against the floor with his arms stretched wide at his sides like a person prepared for crucifixion. Eve could just about hear that he was murmuring words of confession, or prayer, to his God. As she approached he must have heard her footfall on the flagstones and he sprang to his feet with amazing agility and turned to face her.
‘You!’ he cried. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I’ve come to talk to you, Mr Groome.’
Eve hoped the Inspector and his men were nearby as promised; the manic glare in the man’s eyes made her nervous. Her heart speeded up and her mouth felt as dry as dust; she was more fearful than she had ever felt before. She moved closer to the altar, but unexpectedly the vicar backed away, an expression of horror on his gaunt face.
‘Why did you kill Vera?’ she asked in a steady, strong voice. ‘Was it really necessary to try to poison that little boy?’
Douglas Groome stared at Eve, clearly terrified at her accusation. He stumbled backwards until he was standing with his back right up against the altar. Eve followed until she was so close that she could hear his rasping breath and smell his fear. It crossed her mind that he should feel no fear of her as she was half his size.
Suddenly, with a snarl, he whirled his right hand back and grabbed one of the heavy brass candlesticks from the altar and without a pause he swung it in a great arc towards Eve’s head. If she had been any taller and not standing a step lower than he, the candlestick would have connected with her skull and certainly rendered her unconscious, if not dead.
Douglas Groome bellowed in hatred and panic as he stepped forward and swung the weapon towards her again, ranting as he did so.
‘Get lost, you interfering bitch! Stop meddling in other people’s business. Vera knew. She knew all about Amy. I had to do it or she would have told everyone in the village. But it’s got nothing to do with you.’
Eve felt and heard the violent disturbance of air as the weapon rushed towards her again, lower this time. She ducked below his advancing arm and almost missed the sight of Groome folding up and collapsing onto the floor with a scream of agony.
When Eve looked up Lady Passmore was standing over the man, the second brass candlestick clutched in her expensively-gloved hand. She had better aim than the man of God. The vicar squirmed and groaned on the floor, his right hand nursing his broken left shoulder.
Moments later several policemen stormed down the aisle and soon stood over the injured man. The inspector arrived at a more leisurely pace.
‘Did you hear him?’ gasped Eve, quaking with delayed shock. ‘Did you hear what he said?’
‘We heard enough, Miss Duncan,’ he said, ‘In any case, he made an attempt on your life and there were plenty of witnesses. I’m sure it won’t be difficult to get the truth out of him back at the station.’
The vicar groaned as they dragged him to his feet and he was formally arrested. He glared at Eve and Lady Passmore with seething hatred in his eyes. It was the most animated that Eve had ever seen him.
‘She deserved it,’ he spat at Eve as they led him away. ‘She was a whore. She’d had a child before she married me and was having an affair with that Miller boy. God is on my side.’
‘I doubt that, Mr Groome,’ murmured Lady Passmore. ‘Anyone who could harm a child like that deserves no redemption. But we will see, won’t we?’
The police led him from the church.
‘Thank you, Lady Passmore,’ said Eve, ‘I think you saved my life.’
‘Think nothing of it, my dear. Come on, let’s get you home. The Rolls is outside. Grace and the children will wonder what’s happened to you.’
They went out to the street and climbed into the car’s soft leather seats. Eve was still shaking with nervous energy, astonished at how swiftly the end had come. Sitting back in the wonderful comfort of the car as it purred up the hill, Eve thought of Persephone. At last she’d fulfilled her destiny, bringing destruction on her murderer and freeing Eve to go home.
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Murders in the Blitz
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