Don Gutteridge - The Bishop's Pawn

“We’ve got to go in through the walkway,” shehollered back at him. “The front doors have been kept locked sinceMonday, except when one of the vicars is in the building.”

In order to enter the church through thewalkway, however, they had first to go through the rear door of thevicarage. Mavis McDowell did not bother knocking. She pulled openthe door, checked to make sure Cobb was at her heel, and bargedinto the narrow hall. Missy Prue, who had been expecting them, wasnonetheless startled enough to drop her broom on the carpet.

“It’s all right, Missy,” Mavis said in a muchgentler voice that the one she had used on Cobb. “Please wait forMrs. Hungerford to come back from her errand and then inform herimmediately. The vicar’ll have to be told as well when he returnsfrom Danby’s Crossing.” Then she turned to Cobb. “Follow me.”

Cobb meekly trailed her into the walkway thatconnected church and vicarage. As they went past the vestry andstepped out into the church proper, Cobb felt the hair on his neckrise. He wasn’t much of a churchgoer, but the mysterious, hushedsilence of a house of worship never failed to move him, not quiteto awe but something close to it. Mavis McDowell loped down thenave between the pews towards the big oaken doors. Beyond the lastpew there was a wooden stand upon which the Poor Box normally sat.At this moment it lay on the floor, its ornate wooden door wideopen, its interior empty.

“That’s the way I found it, constable. Rippedopen and all the money stolen! Such sacrilege! Such blasphemy!”

Cobb wondered whether the loss of a fewdollars or pounds was worth all that indignation. He bent down toexamine the pillaged container.

“I’ve only been in town since October andMrs. Hungerford was kind enough to make me treasurer of the LadiesAuxiliary. One month later, and what happens? Ten dollars goesmissing from the bazaar! And now this !”

“You ain’t responsible fer a thief robbin’you,” Cobb said.

“Perhaps not, but, you see, I am supposed tocheck this box every Monday morning – Constance trusted me with thekey – ”

“Why don’t the vicar just empty it after theevenin’ service?” Cobb said, puzzled as usual by the needlessintricacies of religious practice and protocol.

Mavis seemed startled by the question butsaid, “The Poor Box is the province of the Auxiliary, as are thebazaars and socials we use to raise money for the Widows andOrphans Fund.”

“Ah . . .”

“But everything was at sixes and sevens onMonday – as you know – and I was kept busy entertainingwell-wishers come to praise my husband’s speech and seek hisadvice. So I didn’t get around to it until half an hour ago. Andhere is what I found. You must apprehend the thief – atonce!”

“You say the box was locked?”

“Yes. It didn’t use to be, but after therebellion Dr. Strachan apparently insisted.”

“Who has a key besides you?”

Mavis had to think about that. “The vicars ofcourse have keys for every door in the church and vicarage. No-oneelse.”

“I hardly think the vicars’d rob their ownpoor box,” Cobb said, but he had read Marc’s notes on the interviewwith Chalmers and, like Marc, suspected that Mrs. Hungerford wasthe likely culprit. However, he noticed that there were two greasyand distinctly male thumbprints on the Poor Box, made very recentlyby the look of them. Perhaps the good parson’s wife had found somevillain from the town to do her dirty work for her. Or it waspossible, though not probable, that this incident had nothing to dowith the Chalmers’ episode.

“But the church has been pretty much closedsince the tragedy on Monday,” Mavis was explaining. “Even the bellhasn’t been rung.”

“That means the only way the robber couldagot in is through the back door of the vicarage, like we did.”

“That’s right, constable. Even so, how couldhe get the box open without a key?”

“There’s no damage to the lock or the hingeson the lid here. But this is a simple lock. It could be jimmiedquite easy. Somebody may’ve left the vicarage door unbarred lastnight an’ even filched a key to the box.”

“To help the thief, you mean?” Constancesaid, then added ruefully, “Honest servants are hard to come by, Iknow. I’ve had to dismiss three since October. But I must insistthat you consult Mrs. Hungerford before approaching any of herhired help.”

“Consult me about what?”

The lady herself had arrived.

Constance suggested that Mavis go back to thevicarage and have a cup of tea while she sorted matters out withthe constable. Mavis looked much relieved. Cobb felt otherwise.

Cobb began by going over the points that heand Mavis had just raised between them.

“Of course it wasn’t Missy or Myrtle. I willnot have you badgering them. If you insist, I’ll ask themdiscreetly whether they checked the back door before going to bed.But I know they did. They are punctilious to a fault. Moreover,they are handsomely paid and would have no reason to steal or abeta criminal.”

“Perhaps a penniless boy friend?”

“Don’t be absurd! Myrtle Welsh is amiddle-aged spinster and Missy Prue is too young to consort withmen. We don’t permit it.”

“Then I’m afraid I ain’t got any leads tofollow up,” Cobb said. “All I c’n do is have my snitches keep theirears to the ground.”

“You do realize, constable , that thistheft could prove an embarrassment to a man about to be made abishop and to another man about to take a leadership role in theTory party? Mrs. McDowell has been placed in a very delicate andfragile position. She feels responsible.”

“So she told me.”

Constance glanced back up the nave, thenmotioned for Cobb to sit down. She sat next to him with an ominousrustling of skirts. “I’m going to give you a ‘lead,’ as you termit. I want it pursued vigorously but with tact and with a constanteye towards any ill effects your inquiries might have upon St.James and the Archdeacon.”

“You know who done this?”

“I do, though it will be up to you to findthe proof.”

“If it’s there, I’ll find it.”

“I’m telling you this in strictestconfidence,” she said in a voice that transparently suggested theopposite. “The Reverend Chalmers has money problems. His mother andsisters down in Windsor are destitute, and one of them requiresexpensive medicines. The Archdeacon – saintly soul that he is – haslent him money, as has my husband. But it seems never to be enough.A few weeks back, ten dollars was embezzled from the church bazaar.Chalmers was the only person who could have taken it, but he denieddoing so, and the Archdeacon like a good Christian chose to believehim. Now he has done it again. He has a key to this box. Theentrance to the walkway is across the hall from his rooms.”

“But he’ll be sure to deny it,” Cobb said,stating the obvious. “And I can’t very well go in an’ ransack theplace.”

“Well, sir, you must think of some thing. If Chalmers is to be involved in a scandal, itmust be exposed and dealt with before the bish – theArchdeacon leaves for England.”

Cobb tried to think of something that hemight do. “Ya figure he’ll do this again?” he said.

Constance smiled, sending a chill down Cobb’sspine. “I know he will. The poor wretch is desperate.”

“Then I think there’s somethin’ we cantry.”

“Such as?”

Cobb pulled a crumpled banknote out of hispocket. “I got a Halifax dollar here. I’ll just fold an’ tear off alittle corner – like this – an’ put the rest of it in the box.” Heset the container back on its stand. “You c’n lock this up rightaway?”