Don Gutteridge - The Bishop's Pawn

“There’s been some trouble on King Streetnear Galsworthy’s shop,” Cobb said with deliberate vagueness. “Wethink maybe your Mr. Epp might’ve been a witness to the incident -on his way to work, like.”

Again Hungerford smiled with everything buthis eyes. “I gather you don’t wish to reveal the details of the‘incident,’ as you term it?”

“It was a murder,” Cobb said. “Happened aboutseven-thirty. Somebody saw Reuben in the area about that time. I’dlike to talk to him about it.”

“I see,” Hungerford said, but instead ofcontinuing he went across to a pipe-stand, fiddled with filling oneof the bowls there, abandoned it, then turned and said coldly,“Tell me, who was murdered?”

Cobb hesitated, but had to respond. “Mr.Richard Dougherty. He was stabbed several times in an alley whilstout on his morning walk.” Something or other registered – briefly -in Hungerford’s eyes. Surprise? Satisfaction? Concern?

“And you have reason to believe that our Mr.Epp was . . . close by, as you say?”

Cobb detected an edge of threat in thequestion. He began to sweat, wishing now that he had taken his coatright off. “Dusty Carter saw Reuben movin’ along the service lanebehind the bakery around seven-thirty.”

“Coming to work,” Hungerford said with atwitch that was meant as a smile. “He’s supposed to unlock thefront doors of the church at eight o’clock and then ring thebells.”

“He was seen headin’ west, not east,” Cobbsaid quietly.

Hungerford did not seem pleased with what heconsidered to be Cobb’s impertinent probing, but managed to say, “Ithink I can explain that, constable. When I came into the vestry tofetch a garment I’d left there after evensong last night – at abouta quarter to eight – I noticed one of the front doors ajar. Itappears, for some reason you’ll have to get from Mr. Epp, that hecame in early to unlock the doors, and then returned home.”

Cobb said quickly, “Then you haven’t seen himthis mornin’?”

“Are you implying that I ought to have seenhim?”

Cobb wriggled to let the sweat run freelydown his back. “I just need to know, sir, if he’s in the churchright now, so’s I can talk to him.”

“And I’m telling you that I haven’t theslightest idea where the verger is. It is not my duty to supervisehis every move!”

Cobb took note of the anger in Hungerford’sreply, but he began to suspect that it wasn’t directed merely atthe impudence of a lowly constable. “Did the bell ring at eighto’clock?” he asked.

“Of course it did. Reverend Chalmers did thehonours.”

“Did he say whether Reuben helped him?”

“Damn you! Epp hasn’t been here since heopened the doors at seven o’clock! Is that what you want tohear?”

“Now, reverend, there’s no need to pop yercollar. If Reuben ain’t here, then I’ll go an’ find him.” Hestarted to get up.

But Hungerford said to him in a tone thatbordered on pleading, “Stay for a moment, constable. I’ll try toexplain the source of my uncalled-for outburst.”

Feeling he had gained the high ground, Cobbstood with his helmet in his hands.

“It was I who recommended Reuben Epp for thepost of verger, some years ago, at the behest of a woman whosejudgement I trusted. The man has been a burden to me ever since, across which, as a Christian, I’ve had to bear. Epp has always had aproblem with alcohol. He’s not an habitual drunkard, but he givesin to his demons two or three times month, arrives late for work,or not at all. Reverend Chalmers and I cover for him as best we can- we don’t want to bother the Archdeacon with such a petty matter,as that great man carries the weight of the country and itsfortunes on his shoulders. I assume that Chalmers noted Epp’sabsence and tolled the eight o’clock bell. You can check with himwhen he comes back from his pastoral visits at noon, if you like.But I myself have seen no evidence in the church that Epp didanything more than open the doors early and then desert hispost.”

“I’m sorry if I upset you,” Cobb said at thedoor. “I’ll head across town to Epp’s place. I’m sure I’ll find himthere.”

“Sober, I dearly hope. And I hope, too, thatyou don’t for a moment think the man had anything to do withmurder.”

“I won’t know that, sir, till I ask him.”

“True, but you should know that despite hisweakness the fellow is a model Christian, pious to a fault. That isprecisely why I have made allowances for his erratic behaviour overthe years.”

“I see,” Cobb said, substituting, in hismind, the word “fanatic” for “pious.”

“Moreover, I can’t for the life of me seewhat connection Mister Epp could have had with an apostate andpederast like Dougherty. May God forgive me, but I feel that theworld will be a better place with that fellow dead, however heinousa crime has been committed to render him thus.”

Cobb froze. He knew he ought to wheel andhurry away. But he didn’t. “I would’ve thought the connection wasobvious, sir. Wasn’t it the great man himself who just yesterdaycalled fer an eye to be plucked out?”

“What the hell are you saying, you impiousupstart!” The vicar’s rage was as fierce as it was sudden. His baldpate glowed crimson. “How dare you come into my home and – ”

“The killer stabbed Mr. Dougherty six orseven times in a blind fury. Then he left a note stuck to him,callin’ him a sodomite,” Cobb said calmly. He stared intoHungerford’s anger and added, “Then he gouged out the fella’s righteye!”

Hungerford reeled back as if struck. His jawdropped between his side-whiskers. There was fear in his eyes. Anddismay.

Cobb stomped all the way down the hall andout onto the stoop.

***

It was just after eleven o’clock, and the chamber ofMagistrate James Thorpe in the Court House was the scene of apost-mortem concerning the horrific death of Richard Dougherty. Themagistrate himself took little part in the discussion, but he wasnonetheless an interested party. Seated about him were MarcEdwards, Wilfrid Sturges, Robert Baldwin (who had arrived incompany with Marc) and Angus Withers (who had decided to deliverhis autopsy report in person).

“Angus, why don’t you start things off,”Sturges said.

“Well, I have examined the body carefully inmy surgery,” Withers said in his straightforward, no-nonsensemanner. “There were six stab wounds in all, every one of them inthe upper back. The angle of entry indicates that they were mostlikely inflicted while the victim was lying facedown. They wereexecuted with great force. As I suspected, one of them penetratedthrough to the heart, and was most likely the fatal stroke.”

“Then he was struck on the headfirst?” Sturges said.

“Yes, a blow to the right temple. AsDougherty was no doubt walking east towards home, I speculate thatthe killer sprang out of the alley between the two shops and tookthe victim by surprise. The blow fractured the skull and certainlyrendered the man unconscious, if not dead. He was either dragged orhe staggered into the alley, where we found him facedown. All theblood found there was consistent with the body not having movedonce it had hit the ground. There was bruising on the face and gritin the skin to suggest an unimpeded fall.”

“Any idea what was used to knock him out?”Marc asked.

“A large, rounded stone of some sort, I’dguess.”

“We found it,” Sturges said. “Constable Brownsearched the entire length of the alley, an’ found nothing. But awoman in the crowd around us stumbled on a bloodied stone about thesize of a muskmelon, lyin’ on the road. The killer must’ve struckDougherty an’ tossed the bludgeon away without thinkin’.”

“More concerned with getting poor Dick intothe alley and out of sight,” Marc said. He was finding it difficultto pretend that he was calm and detached, as he knew he ought tobe: one salient detail overlooked could result in the murderergoing free. And that, he had vowed to Celia and Brodie, he wouldnever allow.